Yesterday we went back to one of our favorite summer spots, Old Orchard Beach.
We've been two other times this summer and both times, Lizzie has been less than impressed.
She doesn't like the waves.
There are lots of people.
I think it's really overwhelming for her.
And DOH and I find this very disappointing, because we love OOB and we wanted her to love it as much as we did. But it didn't seem as though she would...
...until she did.
I am the queen of the rush. I rush, rush, rush through things, through life, through fun. But yesterday I stood and just watched (and not just because I didn't want my little girl to be carried off by the abnormally huge seagulls that make OOB their home). I watched my daughter have the time of her life and saw a memory for make itself right before my eyes. I knew that she was going to remember the day she learned to love the sun and surf here at one of her parents' favorite places. I knew she would remember the freedom of crashing through the waves, the smiles on her parents' faces, the idea in her mind that she's "really a brave girl."