Truro Top Ten, Part Two.

5. Family Portrait Time! Look out, people on our holiday card lists! You might just get a Yuletide greeting featuring a deliriously happy seaside family. Our first night in Truro, we got to a bayside beach as the sun was setting and quickly realized the potential for a flattering portrait session. This was about a half-hour after I practically gave myself a concussion by opening our car's passenger-side door with such frenzy and enthusiasm that its top corner slammed into my forehead and I needed hasty first aid and momentarily considered stitches. I must have been all pumped up about getting to the beach. Now I have a scar that will always remind me of Truro 2010, as well as the dangers of over-excitement. As if the girl who won't watch pulse-quickening films needs that.

In the following photos, you can see that Heather and her family chose to recreate their 2009 shot by posing the exact same way, Danielle and her family were adorable at dusk, and I screamed for someone to grab a camera when I realized that Todd and I were in the water at the same time, with our kids, who were simultaneously enjoying the ocean. Ah, Beach Life. (See #4, below.)

4. Beach Life. At least eight times a day, I quickly and emphatically uttered the phrase "Beach Life," whenever an adult was managing to relax or a child was happily occupied by sand or surf. Kids racing around with kites, munching on potato chips or watermelon, or riding astride H-Town's head hockey coach: it was all just so great. And then there were the margaritas in the plastic red cups and the salty breezes and and the waves rolling in and, probably most importantly, the just sitting with nothing to do but enjoy the day and our kids. Sunset on the beach is pretty delightful, too. Feeling chilly enough to wear an oversized sweatshirt but warm enough to stroll around barefoot. And one night Todd and I ate ice cream at the beach while our kids were in bed and the other adults were at home. I savored the Bacon Maple that had tantalized me after my first curious taste, and he shared his coffee-something-or-other. And I went on and on about how the green light I kept seeing made me think of Gatsby.

Beach Life means one thing when you're nineteen and laying around with your friends and a pile of magazines and planning your night with or without the other nineteen-year-olds setting up camp nearby, but it means something else, and I think something better, when you're there with your teeny, sweet kids. And the margaritas.

3. Provincetown. First of all, two summers ago when Todd and I took a quiet trip to Truro with Bean, and a Toot in the oven, we made a special point of bringing our almost-three-year-old to what is basically the Pride Parade in the neighboring town of Provincetown, held during Carnival Week. That year's theme was the Wild, Wild West. Imagine the chaps. Second, when I was an intern at Boston's #1 for Hip Hop and R & B (Hol-ler! By the way, I interned with a girl named Melissa, who had her eyes on the prize and is now a morning personality, for crying out loud.), I drove the JAM'N van through Boston's Pride Parade and tossed JAM'N condoms at the people lining the streets. Third, I am a graduate of Smith College, and can attest to the rather large percentage of the student body who would identify themselves as lesbians. I remember working the phone banks to help pass some sort of civil union bill in Northampton.

What I'm saying is, I believe in gay rights, and more to the point, I believe gays should have the right to just be who they are without it being a big deal. That's why I love P-Town. Because it is a gay mecca, but when you're there, it's like, yeah, people here are gay. Whatever. It's sort of like Northampton in that way, where I lived for about four years, and that's one reason Provincetown feels familiar to me. And then, it's a Portuguese town. And because of living and growing up in H-Town, that makes it feels like home even more. And lastly, it's a casual, beachy place, and P-Town has great pizza and ice cream and seafood, and I just feel so relaxed when I'm there. And as night falls, there are more and more pretty drag ladies on Commercial Street, and when I explain to Marley that they're in costumes for a show (which, in fact, many are), she nods and admires their dresses and hair, and it's no big deal. Which is a big deal to me.

2. Boogie Boarding. On our first or second day at the beach, when I realized that no kids had ventured out on the boogie boards yet, I grabbed one and floated around in the chilly but refreshing Atlantic Ocean. And it quickly became my happy place. The sloshing, salty water and and the sunny sky, just bobbing around out there, sometimes sliding on waves for a second but more often just paddling along. And then Heather joined me and we screeched through some waves and floated behind others. Later, Riley joined in, and a few separate mornings, Marley paddled along like a champ, too. And we were so not doing it right. But it was just so much fun and then just so soothing. An integral part of Beach Life. (See #4, above.)

1. Toot! Our first night and first morning at the beach, Rudy was a hysterical, frustrated mess. She wanted to go home; she exploded in irrational irritation when she got sand on her; she was hot and sweaty and unhappy. And then she turned a corner somehow. Maybe it was learned helplessness that grew into acceptance and then appreciation. Whatever. Let it be a lesson to all of us.

It turns out, she loved the waves and thought the water rolling in at her feet was hilarious. She developed a routine of relaxation and play, and totally on her own, would head into the beach tent where Jackson was cooperatively snoozing in his car seat, grab her pacifier and her Lambie, and lie down beside him. She wouldn't necessarily sleep. Sometimes she'd just lie there for a half-hour or so, looking at the blue roof of the tent, and then her toes, and then Lambie. It was like, she understood that Beach Life is about taking it easy. Then, when she was ready, she'd lay the pacifier down and venture out to play in the sand for a while. She'd waddle to the shore. She'd play with beach toys and whale-shaped towel holders. And she'd go back to the tent for snacks or rest if she felt like it. This Tootily display of intrapersonal intelligence makes me feel as though her tantrums, when they come around, won't last as long as Marley's do. Marley could clock in at forty minutes, easy, but Rudy's Beach Life self-soothing techniques make me optimistic. And she is so cute and ridiculous, too.