My kids love sand. My husband hates sand. I do not have strong feelings about sand but I do know that it is insidious. We are currently vacationing on Silver Lake in Michigan. That means that there is a beach. That also means that everything we own is covered in sand. The kids, camper, car, shoes, clothes, beds, hair, food, and even my morning coffee has traces of sand. It does not matter how hard I try to rid everything of these tiny particles, they will continue to multiply until our lunch sandwiches are actually made from real sand. The bright side of this sand takeover is that my kids are having the best time playing in all the dirt and sand.
My mom and her family have been vacationing at Silver Lake since before she was born. Every year my grandma and grandpa would load up four girls for a week of fun in the sun with of course sand. My mom and aunts have always talk about this time fondly. Silver Lake was kind of like a second home when they were growing up. They would all look forward to the special summer trip and all the fun that is to be had here. Riding on the dunes, getting ice cream every night, and playing in the lake were just some of the activities that made them want to keep coming back. I only have three girls but I am sure that adding one more would have doubled the sand. I am confident that my mom and her three sisters were covered in sand just like my girls and my grandma probably washed it out of their things for weeks after the trip was over.
My husband hates sand. I actually don't think that hate is a strong enough word. Loathe and detest are probably more accurate. Even when our first was little he was adamant never to have a sandbox in the backyard. I think his revolting feelings of sand stems from his bath time duties. My husband is always the one that gets the girls clean at the end of the day. Sand makes that task virtually impossible. No matter how hard you scrub there will always be at least one particle that escapes. To add insult to injury my girls usually jump right back into the sand at the campsite as soon as they leave the scrubbing area. In his defense when you are camping next to a beach the sand is literally everywhere. Currently we have sand in our beds, the floor of the camper, and our shoes just to name a few. There is no where to hide.
My girls love sand. They completely love everything about sand. They love rolling in it, building with it, burying each other in it, and just walking on it. We could not get them away from the sand if we tried. Silver lake is right by the Michigan Sand Dunes so if this is your vacation spot you must resolve yourself to a sandy life for the remainder of your stay. Like most things my little ladies don't notice the mess they just notice the fun. They put the sand in everything and marvel at the way it conforms to the containers. They pick up heaping hand fulls and stare in awe has it wiggles through each of their little fingers. They jump in piles of sand and giggle as it gives way and presses into their chubby toes. I am pretty sure that my kids would live in a pile of sand if I let them because of the joy it brings them.
Sand is not forever. During these sandy vacations I could choose to get irritated by the amount of sand I sweep out of the camper but I choose to see the amount of happiness on my girls faces. I could choose to yell at my girls to stop bringing sand back in buckets but I choose to see the determination in their tasks. I could choose to get frustrated by all the extra sand but I choose to see the joy in their sandy activities. Yes, sand is annoying for all adults. Yes, I will be cleaning sand out of my house for weeks after this getaway. Yes, sleeping on sand is not comfortable in any way. However, I can remember that this new sand ridden lifestyle is not forever. Soon we will leave this magical place and only a few particles will come with us. So for a little while longer I can be plagued with sand and stand on the beach to watch the sunset over the dunes. Besides a little sand is a small price to pay for the fun that is being shared.
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