Baby’s First Sunday Night at the Rocky Beach

The big kidlets were at soccer practice Sunday evening, and Grandma Kathy announced, “I need to get out.  I think I will go to the grocery store to pick up some eggs.”

“Ok,”  I said.

“Do you need to get out? Do you want to come with?” she asked.

“Well, I do kind of need to get out.”

“Well, let’s go!  Maybe we should get some ice cream.”

“Hmmm.  Well, actually.  How do you feel about a quick, spontaneous trip to the beach?  I have an idea of some pictures I want to take.”

“Sure!”

She’s so agreeable, my mother-in-law.  I fed the baby, and we buckled him into his carseat.  I grabbed my camera and we were off down the hill.  We got to the beach, changed the baby’s diaper and wrapped him all up tight.  Grandma carried the baby over the rocks, and I executed my plans.  My mother-in-law is a supremely patient person.  She didn’t complain ONCE about all the crazy things I was doing.  There’s a lot to be said about having your own kids, because you cannot usually get away with torturing other people’s kids photographically in the same ways.  When Squirmy protested about laying his head down on a bed of rocks, she found a handkerchief to hide carefully under his noggin.  When it seemed like he might roll off the big granite rocks next to the water, she carefully rolled up a blanket on the other side and was waiting just out of the picture to catch him if need be. At one point she looked at me and said, “I’ve been a lot of things, but I’ve never before been a photographer’s assistant.”  I kept her on her toes.

When we were all done and buckled into the car (and I was pretty exhausted) I said, “Wasn’t that FUN!”  She looked at me a little strangely and giggled, but she didn’t protest.

There are a few images that I actually like better than these, but I am saving them for something special.