So Long to Summer

This is not my final blog entry of the summer. No, I still have many adventures to report, including the release of turtles into the wild, swimming lessons, more surfing, a pirate adventure, and a surrey ride for nine down the boardwalk. As summer comes to an end, I have so many stories to tell. Yet, I felt that I must commemorate the end of the season with an official goodbye today, Labor Day.

Our summer ended with a frenetic burst of activity--frequent trips back home for soccer practice for the boys, a houseful of guests as Grandma and Grandpa flew up from Texas to experience the New Jersey shore firsthand and were joined by Colleen and Brian, and a series of "last times" and "last chances" before autumn's arrival.

We seemed to not be the only ones trying to soak in the last remnants of summer. Ocean City exploded with people and activity. My Dad suggested I attach a spear to the front of my stroller to motivate slow walkers on the boardwalk to get out of the way. We joined the masses for several trips to the boardwalk this last weekend, scarfing up Johnson's Popcorn and Ike's Crab Cakes, going for one last whirl at the Wonderland Pier, pedaling back and forth on a surrey, and surfing, surfing, surfing at the 7th Street Beach. Our busy last days of summer were followed by fun family dinners, slow walks for ice cream and quiet, cool evenings on our front porch.

The end of summer came with what seemed like the flip of a switch. The crowds emptied, our guests drove away, and the hum of the washer and dryer honed on. We feel just a little bit sad, as most do as they realize a much anticipated, much planned for event is now over. After all our waiting and planning, all our fun, after all that has happened, summer is over now.

Will cried today as he realized our beach time would be relegated to weekend trips that we are able to squeeze in between soccer game and birthday parties. Craig frequently reminds us that we don't have to lament over a "last time" of doing anything at the shore--since we own a home here, we can come whenever we want. But I understand how Will feels. We won't have another stretch of time here at the shore until next June. We've enjoyed the family time and I, for one, feel a renewed closeness with my husband and kids. We've spent a summer together and have learned the ropes of shore living. I'll miss our morning bike rides, afternoons on the beach, shell seeking and wave riding.

I never want to wish my life away. As one phase, one time, one event ends, there is always something else to look forward to. School and soccer games start this week. The boys will be reunited with their buddies. We'll return to our house in Pennsylvania, with our own swing set in the back yard and a little room to spread out. We'll start swimming lessons, and trips to the library, and playdates with friends we haven't seen for months.

Yes, the arrival of fall is bittersweet.

After dinner tonight, we took one last family trip to the playground. The 51st Street playground, known in our circle as the "Playground with the Fish" was the destination of Carter's choice. On our drive down West Avenue, we noticed the empty streets, the dark houses. The playground, usually spilling over with children, was empty. Even the weather seemed to welcome in the fall--we shivered in our shorts and flip flops and we noticed the dog walkers bundled in jeans in fluffy sweatshirts.

We'll head home tomorrow. But our adventure at the shore is far from over. We'll be back. Devotees of the NJ shore know that September and October are prime months here--warm water and no crowds. Stay tuned. I'll have more stories to tell.

And They Rode Off Into the Sunset

I write a lot about our main beach transportation--by bike. There's a certain freedom spending a summer in a small town with a low speed limit and lots of sidewalks. At home, the kids could never ride around the block--our neighborhood is just too close to a nasty intersection--even though we live within walking distance of a coffee and ice cream shop. When we're in Ocean City, there's something kind of exciting, liberating even, about hopping on our bikes and going somewhere.

With Will on his dirt bike and Charlotte and me on my cruiser, Carter has been dutifully following behind on a smaller version of Will's bike with training wheels. Carter is the most competitive kid I have ever met and trailing behind him just kills him. Crossing intersections is hard, too. Sometimes, those training wheels just get caught on the curb and I have to maneuver my bike, with a baby in the back, while pulling a pouting Carter on his own.

We have spent the summer with this arrangement. That is, until yesterday, when Carter announced that he wanted his training wheels off. If you have ever met Carter, you know this is a child who speaks in truths. When he says that he is or is not going to do something, he means it. He is seldom rude, but matter-of-fact. Still, when he told me to take his training wheels off, I just wasn't sure.

The wheels, first of all, were on incredibly tight. I had trouble getting them off. I assigned Will to pull Charlotte around in the wagon as I struggled and struggled to remove the wheels. My fear was that Charlotte would not cooperate as Carter needed a few days of extra attention to teach him to ride his bike. Or, that I'd get the wheels off and, after falling off the bike, he's ask me to put them back on--and I wasn't sure I'd be able to.

Once the wheels were off, Carter and I stood in the back alley, as Will and Charlotte sat in the makeshift wagon bandstand. I held onto the back of the bike seat as he began to pedal. He told me to let go. I did, half expecting him to topple right over. But he didn't. He kept going. All the way around the block.

And that was that.

Of course, the event was not without drama. Carter is a dramatic kid. He never really fell off his bike, but he has problems starting and stopping. Every so often, while trying to start or stop, his bike would fall over. Carter would then throw himself over, rolling around in the grass, much to the alarm of passers by, who would run to his aid. He always gets up with his jack-o-lantern grin, never a tear. Carter made a friend of an old lady who is renting the corner house. She pulled Charlotte in the wagon while I ran to keep up with Carter. She, too, was in awe of his new-found skill.

Carter's only request of me today was to go on a bike ride. After errands and planned activities today, after dinner was the only time for us to go. As our summer comes to an end, night comes quickly. We watched the sunset as we rode our bikes around the block. Carter rode ahead as Charlotte and I trailed behind. In true Carter style, he chatted the entire time he rode. Since I was behind him, I could hardly hear him, but peppered into his conversation of one were phrases like, "I did it! I'm doing it! I'm riding my bike."

At nightfall, we pulled our bikes back into the garage. Carter pulled off his helmet, looked up at me and smiled. "I think I'm the best 4-year-old in the whole world. I can ride my bike." We think so too, Carter bear.

The Shell Seekers

A trip to the beach is a treasure hunt to us. Every time, it is so different. You never know what you might uncover. Each of us has a different prize we seek. Charlotte is happy to find any piece of shell that she can fold into her fat, dimpled hand. Carter is attracted to muscle shells these days, particularly treasuring the bivalve shells that are still intact. Will is on a constant hunt for a sea star or sand dollar, but will settle for the discovery of a horseshoe crab. I am more particular and covet a whelk shell. New Jersey's answer to the conch shell, a whelk is hard to find this time of year. Nevertheless, I keep my eyes open as we comb Ocean City's beaches.

Last week, I took the kids to one of Ocean City's beach walks. Every Tuesday and Wednesday in the summer season, the town gives guided tours down beaches in the north and south ends of the island. Last year, we attended one in the south end, at Corson's Inlet State Park. Since then, it has become a frequent destination for us for treasure hunting. This year, we went on the beach tour in the north end, near the Longport Bridge.

If you're interested in really learning about what you regularly see on a New Jersey beach, a beach walk is a great way to do so. Most of the shore towns around here have them. In Ocean City, it costs $1 for an adult, and 50-cents for a child to go on the hour-long tour. The kids get a bucket, too, which adds to the fun. As they deposit sea treasures into their buckets, the guide is able to tell them a little about what they have found.

As often happens, I got a wary eye from the tour guide when I showed up on the beach walk with my three in tow. There were two tour guides, and I heard some debate over who would take "the young ones." As we walked down the beach with the guide, accompanied by another family with slightly older kids, my boys knew all the answers to the questions that the guide asked, identifying different types of crabs, egg sacks and sea shells. With a good knowledge of the sea shore life already, this beach walk was a great way to add more details about stuff they already knew. But, at this point, Will could probably lead the tour himself. We got compliments from the tour guide afterwards, who said the kids were both good and knowledgeable.

The kids and I each picked up important pieces of information during our walk. For Will and Carter, the guide talked about the dangers of litter to both the landscape and wildlife of the beach. The children were just as interested in spotting and picking up pieces of trash as they were sea shells. For me, the guide mentioned that whelk shells have been appearing on some of the beaches on the way to Strathmere. That piqued my interest, for sure.

My friend Jen is also an Ocean City devotee and also in search of a whelk shell. Once I told her of the alleged location of whelks, she loaded her four into her car to go find some, promising me one if she was successful. She wasn't. I also loaded my kids up and scanned the beaches between OC and Strathmere. I made the trip during high tide, and was equally as unsuccessful.

Saturday, while Craig stayed home with a napping Charlotte, the boys and I headed down to Corson's Inlet with two plastic bags--one for shells and one for garbage. The beach was crawling with fellow shell seekers. Our shell bag was soon loaded with our finds--whelk egg cases, bits and pieces of unfortunate spider, sand and green claw crabs, moon snail shells and broken pieces of whelk shells. The beach was scattered with large clam and oyster shells, too, but we have moved beyond those pedestrian, every-day-shells and are on to much bigger and better. Although we still have not found a whole whelk shell, we have some nice pieces of them. And part of the fun is the hunt, anyway.

What left the biggest impression on Will and Carter, however, was the informal beach clean up we conducted. We quickly filled the bag with candy wrappers, empty beer cans, lonely, pairless beach shoes, pieces of latex balloons, a box of cigarettes. Will is a child tightly in tune with the injustices of the world, a cheerleader for the underdog, a tireless fighter for what he believes is right. He would find pieces of litter with an eagle eye and dramatically question, "who would throw their trash on this beach?" as he would toss it into the waiting plastic bag. Corson's Inlet is a state park with a "carry in, carry out" garbage policy. We don't know if the trash we picked up was left there by beach-goers or washed up by the ocean, perhaps a byproduct of the beach replenishment project in Sea Isle, which seems to be churning up a great deal--from seaweed to crabs to trash--onto the shores of Ocean City.

Regardless, we found a sizable amount of trash during our walk, including a torn up piece of tire that Will and Carter worked together to drag down the sea side. A woman passed us and smiled. "Boys and their treasure," she said. I think Will was slightly insulted. He has moved on from finding treasure to leading a one-boy effort to, as he puts it, "save the earth." He is still grieving that I made him leave a washed up pair of furniture cushions on the beach--they were just too much for us to carry.They wanted to take the trash home with us, so they could show their Dad all they collected. I talked them into a photo instead.

Our beach combing will continue as we enjoy this last week of summer. We have different missions now, though. I'm still in search of my whelk shell. Two shells would be ideal--one for me and one for my friend Jen. Will is determined to continue his beach clean up operation, one plastic bag at a time, with his trusty helper, Carter, at his side. Woe be to him who litters in front of Will and Carter. They're working hard to clean up our beaches and take it quite personally.

The Turtlesinger

Tonight, after a day of surfing at the beach, we headed to the Bayside Center for the last of their "Sunset Series," an event we have attended almost every Tuesday this summer. Going to a regularly scheduled event has helped us note the passage of time--in July, we'd leave the Bayside Center just as the sun was setting, with enough time left before dark to fit in a quick trip to the playground before bed. But tonight, we left in the cool, dark night. As the days are getting shorter, it is our signal that summer is coming to an end.

The entertainment tonight at the Bayside Center was The Turtlesinger (www.turtlesinger.com), a fixture at the shore, attending many family events at the shore. A husband and wife team, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley, travel around with their own team of turtles, to sing and tell stories about our terrapin friends. Slightly hokey, yes, but the kids were enthralled. In fact, this was the most well-attended event at the Bayside Center this summer.

Each turtle that the Buckleys would show to the children had its own song. Mrs. Buckley would play the keyboards and sing the song as Mr. Buckley would walk around with the turtle. No touching was allowed, but he'd bring the turtle as close as you like, if you game him a signal to come closer. Children who were too scared to be close to the turtles were instructed to put to hands up. My favorite part of the show was a song about feeding turtles worms. Mrs. Buckley walked around with a bowl full of gummy worms and a pair of tongs. The kids would tilt their heads way back and she'd drop a gummy worm right into their open mouth--just like a turtle would eat.

After each song, the kids could volunteer to feed a turtle. Will got to feed Gracie, a tortoise, a blueberry stuck on the top of a chopstick. Carter got to feed Big Bad Bart, a snapping turtle, a circle of squash, also stuck on a chopstick like a big, healthy lollipop.

We met up with some friends of ours to see the show. The boys are friends with Zack. His little sister, Cecelia, is just a little younger than Charlotte. As the three boys enjoyed the turtles, the babies put on their own show in the back of the room. They danced, traded pacifiers, ate goldfish crackers and performed for the watching adults. Charlotte picked one man who sat in back of us to babble too. And when music played, she bounced up and down, smiling and clapping her hands. When the crowd clapped for the Turtlesingers, Charlotte would look around in mock surprise. "Moi?" I'm sure that is what she said to herself. Every so often, the babies would toddle into the crowd of children, picking a random child to sit next to, to poke at, to talk to, before running back to the safety of their mothers' arms.

Charlotte has seen lots of turtles this summer, between our trips to the Wetlands Institute, the zoo, and the Bayside Center. It is one of her favorite words, which she says distinctly while separating the two syllables: tur-tle, tur-tle. She puts her left hand into a fist, with her little thumb sticking out, and the places her right hand over top, like a terrapin shell, sign language for turtle. Without a doubt, she knows what a turtle is. She has hesitated to touch a crab, whelk and other sea creatures that we have come across this summer. But, she was all about the turtle, reaching out for them as they would pass them by.

Of course, another highlight of the night was door prizes. Will won a turtle magnet and Carter won a small stuffed turtle. They are sleeping soundly now, holding their turtles tightly in their fists, dreaming, I'm sure of turtles.

Sitting on Top of the World

We're exhibiting classic signs of shore addiction. Once upon a time, it was enough for us to travel down to the beach for an hour or two, stick our feet in the water, maybe dig a hole in the sand, while we soaked up the summer sun. Soon enough, we needed more to satisfy our beach craving--maybe extending our time by the ocean with a game of paddle ball and a tasty treat from the Bustard's Custards man. Now, we carry in our gear to the beach like pack mules and stay until my mom sensibilities tell me it is time to march the crew back home for dinner and bed. But still, we're left craving more. So, it should be no surprise to anyone that surfing has been added to our beach time repetoire.


Craig signed up for a surf lesson at the 7th Street Surf Shop on the Boardwalk last week. He came home spilling out tales from his inaugural surf adventure. After his second lesson, he pulled up to the house in his Jeep with a long surf board hanging out of the top, an early birthday present from me to him, saving me a shopping trip later in October. He's hooked. He sends me numerous text messages over the week, asking me about the waves and beach conditions, dreaming of his next time to surf.


Ocean City only allows surfing at designated beaches, or after the lifeguards have gone in. So, at 5:30 pm on Friday, Craig ran home from our beach outpost to grab his board to catch some waves. (You'll have to excuse me; I still don't have the lingo down.) The boys were intrigued. They each sat in a beach chair and watched. Even Charlotte thought he must be on to something. She grabbed the leash of Will's boogie board and laboriously dragged it down into the surf. Once in the water, she handed me the leash and promptly hopped on board, holding her arms out on either side to help maintain her chunky-legged balance. She's seen plenty of kids on boogie boards this summer, but never a surfer until Craig. I still am not sure how she put that together so fast.



After a few minutes of watching Craig, both boys were declaring their desire to surf, so we signed them both up for lessons. Honestly, I had never really thought about surfing before. It seemed like it would be hard and dangerous. According to Craig's surf instructor, surfing is an extreme sport. And the most dangerous part of it is getting across the Boardwalk in once piece.


Today, we all headed down to the 7th Street beach off of the Boardwalk, a designated surfing beach. Charlotte and I enjoyed sticking our toes in the 75-degree water as we waited for the boys to suit up. They soon emerged, like real surfer dudes, wearing their wet suits up to the waists, leaving their arms and chests bare. Their instructors game them some basic direction on land, showing them how to paddle out and how to balance.


Soon, they were off into the ocean, without once looking back to us for reassurance. They paddled out, with their teachers by their sides, and soon, we were watching them balance back to us on a wave. Carter soon toppled off of his board, but jumped up from the foam of the wave with a smile on his face and his arms thrown high over his head, proclaiming a happy victory. Will, on the other hand, maintained his balance and stayed on his board much longer, revealing his pride and excitement with the slightest of smirks on his face.

For a solid hour, they paddled out and surfed back in. They clearly have grasped the concept and are learning technique. The other big learning is timing. For now, their patient instructors will shove their boards into the approaching waves. But soon, I know, they will learn to anticipate a good wave on their own. What a great way to put their summer of swimming lessons to work--and what a great way to use their newly honed skill in the ocean. I've always said that someone should offer ocean swimming lessons, to teach kids how to swim in the varying conditions of the sea. And a surfing lesson seems to do just that.

Surfing does not seem a sport for the faint of heart. I had expected a tear or two, or at least a complaint, about salt water or sand in the eye, being tired, frustration at the frequent falling. But we heard not a negative word. In fact, the boys were so focused at their new task, they hardly seemed to notice us at all, save a quick glance here or there to catch our enthusiastic "thumbs ups" after a particularly impressive performance.


Once their hour lesson had ended, their instructors offered them the use of the wetsuits and surf boards for another hour, an offer the boys eagerly accepted. Craig took them out, one at a time and they continued to sail back to the shore, beaming from ear to ear.


Will is already begging for his next lesson. Carter has entertained me all afternoon with stories that start, "This one time, while I was surfing. . . "


We have often joked that we plan to throw it all in and move down to the shore full time. Surfing may just be an extension of our beach obsession, the lure that keeps us drawn to the sea. The boys are sleeping soundly now, but I know they are hearing the ocean waves and dreaming of their surfing safari as they snooze. And, as September creeps closer, we'll soon be integrated back into our regular lives, but our thoughts will be in Ocean City still. Yes, it's a true addiction--and one we can't wait to satisfy!

We All Scream. . .

Plenty of screaming goes on here. Some of it is to protest the inevitable bedtime or the required consumption of vegetables. And some of it accompanies a rousing game of "alien" the boys play with a neighborhood friend, where they save the world from imaginary outer space evildoers. But mostly, when we scream, we scream for ice cream.

Ice cream is a natural accompaniment to shore living. I can think of no better ending to a hot day on the beach than a long, slow walk to our favorite corner store for a scoop or two of a cold, icy treat. The kids agree and an ice cream trip has become a much requested--and much obliged--evening family outing.

At first, we strolled south towards Kessel's Korner, a favorite of the Buchholz family since Craig vacationed in Ocean City. Family lore has it that he would sneak home from the beach early only to treat himself to an ice cream cone at the counter--and then again when the rest of the family would head to Kessel's for dessert the same day. The Kessel's takeout window has a few things going for it. They serve Breyer's ice cream. Flavors are the usual suspects--vanilla, chocolate, strawberry--sprinkle in a cookies and cream, maybe a Moose Tracks. Kessel's has quite the popsicle collection as well, namely the Spongebob and, Carter's favorite, the "Two Ball Screw Ball." (It's funny to hear him say it--he can't say the "r" sound--so I typically ask him a few times what he wants to order, and then ask him to order it himself.) And sometimes, we're satisfied with a popsicle or two or a scoop of 'scream on a cone. But, most of all, we're a fan of the Kessel's ice cream drinks. The boys can hardly ever pass up a Kessel's milkshake. I'm a chocolate ice cream soda fan myself. It is hard to find an ice cream soda on the menu, and even harder to find someone who knows how to make one.

A few weeks ago, instead of our southbound trip, we headed north and found ourselves at Aunt Betty's Ice Cream, kin to the infamous Uncle Bill's Pancakes, on 21st and Asbury. We've been to the Blitz's Market tons of times over the summer, and even though Aunt Betty's is right next door, we'd never realized that another ice cream store was so very close.

Our trips to Aunt Betty's are done partly on foot and party on wheels. I go on foot, of course, pushing Charlotte in the stroller. The boys go on bike. Will rides ahead as I continue to give Carter guidance on riding his two-wheeler. He needs reminders that his shoes are not brakes. To stop when he gets to the street. But not to stop so far away from the corner that he can't see from side to side. To pedal. To watch where he's going. To pedal and watch where he's going. To watch where he's going and to pedal. By the time we get to Aunt Betty's, I have earned my ice cream cone.

While Kessel's is a quaint family restaurant, Aunt Betty's is just for ice cream treats. It is a narrow, little store with a nice, covered outside seating area. The boys particularly like their selection of ice creams, with Birthday Cake and Crazy Vanilla as perennial favorites. Will has never liked chocolate, so these two flavors are right up his alley. His partner in crime, Carter, has decided that he does not like chocolate now either. We don't call them the Even Steven Brothers for nothing. They bond over the fluorescent colors of their desserts, unabashedly trading licks.

Charlotte is too little to eat an ice cream cone on her own. I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping herself, actually, but it would make a sticky mess. So for now, while the boys each pick out their own treat, she has been content to share one with me. I'm not a vanilla fan myself, so we typically share a cone of strawberry, my preferred summertime flavor. I always order mine on top of a sugar cone, savoring the crunchy treat to the last bite. Up for a change, on our last trip, I changed my selection to Mint Chocolate Chip.

Given my new flavor, Charlotte has switched allegiances and now turns to her brothers to share. I'm not sure if it is that she doesn't like the mint flavor or that what the boys have seems much more appealing. She opens her little beak wide, protesting loudly if no one shares. She, too, now is a fan of Birthday Cake and Crazy Vanilla. And vanilla milkshakes. And rootbeer (pronounced "rootbeard" in our house) floats. She shakes her head and wags her finger at offers of spoonfuls of my ice cream. "No, no, no," she says, while extending her hand towards the boys, opening and closing it in a frenetic motion for more. And when they don't respond quickly enough for her liking, she screams. She screams for ice cream. . just like I scream, you scream and we all scream for ice cream.

So These Kids Walk Into a Bar. . .

A sandbar, of course. The ocean has been unusually warm and especially rough these days, probably due to the torrential rain that has been plaguing this part of the country. We've missed out on most of the rain, but are feeling the effects of the weather in the sea instead.

Only a few feet out from the shore line, Carter and I first discovered the sandbar. Since it is typically just me and three kids at the beach, I tend to keep the boys as close as I can to both land and lifeguards, not giving them much opportunity to go in past their hips. Charlotte is content to observe the boys' ocean antics from her seat on my hip. Will has always loved jumping in the waves, but Carter is usually more content to splash around in the surf. I believe that he thought that was the real draw of the ocean--splashing around, throwing the occasional handful of sand into the water, jumping over a wave or two. But, in just over this sand bar, he could swim. The water here is deep, at about Carter's waist, yet only ankle deep on either side, Carter's own private pool.

Since this discovery, I have a hard time getting Carter out of the water. I love watching Carter swim. I'm not the only one, either. His happiness in the water is contagious. At swimming lessons in our pool at home, Carter has such a good time, he swims with his mouth in a wide-open smile. He's always swallowing water that way, but he just can't contain his excitement. Now that he know that the ocean is for swimming, not just for jumping over waves, it has much more appeal to him. Face in the water, he shows off his strokes in the brief moment between waves, and then lets the waves carry his little body to shore. He'll jump up, throwing hands in the air as if he has just completed a complicated gymnastics move and exclaims, "Carter is washing up!"

Today, Will joined him in the fun. Both boys ventured out to the sand bar and these flotsam and jetsam brothers spent the day diving under waves, coming up with handfuls of sand and shells, then letting the water carry them back ashore. There, they'd bask in the sun on their tummies, tanned arms propping them up, like two skinny walruses, and let the water lap up over their backs. When the waves weren't strong enough to carry them up onto the sand, they'd furiously crawl, a wet, splashy race up to the beach. Sometimes, a strong wave would catch them by surprise and the boys would get tangled together, washing ashore pell-mell, clearly not knowing whose legs were whose. Pearly grains of sand coated their skin and the salty water stung their eyes. But these nuisances remained unnoticed as they bobbed up and down, back and forth, as hours flew by like minutes.

As the tide rolled in, our beach chairs and toys were soon covered with water. Time to head home. The boys sadly left their place in the sand, as we left the beach, our feet tip-toeing over the hot sand. We've made a date to go back to this bar tomorrow, sand and all.

A Month Left of Summer

I love Wednesday mornings in Ocean City. After I drop the boys off at camp, Charlotte and I head down town for a farmer's market. It seems like such a local thing to do--buying my fruits, veggies and other treats from area farmers. A lot of other people seem to enjoy the same routine, strolling down a section of the Tabernacle grounds, sturdy baskets and shopping bags in hand.

At this farmer's market, I always see one of the teachers from Carter's school. She helps out with afternoon carline, so I see her, during the school year, almost every day. In the beginning of the summer, I ran into her at the farmer's market--she has an Ocean City vacation home on the bay.

Since then, I run into her every week. We briefly chat about clams (her favorite weekly purchase) and hot pepper jelly (mine) at the farmer's market. Then, our eyes wide and our hearts heavy, we launch into our countdown until school starts. It's not something I really want to think about yet, but I realize that the clock is ticking. This week marks the end of July and once August is here, September is not far behind.

As I think about our summer coming to a close, I start to panic a little. Did we have enough fun? Did we do all we wanted? I keep finding myself reviewing a mental list of activities, making sure that we've really taken advantage of this great town and all that it has to offer.

So, this week, we really tried to cram it all in.

Monday, we met cousins Kate and Lindsay in Sea Isle for an afternoon at the beach. The evening was welcomed in with a torrential downpour, making us all run for cover. After we cleaned up and the rain stopped, Lindsay took us back down to the beach for the Sea Isle lifeguard races. Lindsay was a Sea Isle lifeguard in the past, and her brother Matt is now. At this event, lifeguards from Sea Isle, Upper Township and Wildwood competed in tests of strength and endurance, including swimming, rowing, paddle boarding and running. It was an exciting evening. Even not knowing anyone competing, it was a fun thing to watch. Will especially enjoyed watching it, especially the rowing. The ocean was rough that night, and the air was cold, making the competition that much more difficult, I'm sure. We'll definitely try to catch it again next year.

Tuesday, after camp, we headed to the Wetlands Institute. It was a nice, hot day. I had planned an afternoon at the beach, but Will was itching to get back to the Wetlands. In the aquarium, they have an empty tank, waiting for a local octopus to fill it. The boys are intrigued by this vacant exhibit. The first thing they always want to do is check to see if they found an octopus yet. (If you yourself are interested, I can save you a trip and tell you that there is no octopus yet, but they have the tank all ready for its capture.) We looked at our usual favorite exhibits and then took a stroll down the Salt Marsh Trail to the dock. The boys have gotten good at identifying the different creatures and plants along the way, remembering details that I have long forgotten. They could probably lead the Salt Marsh Safari themselves. When we reached the dock, we were lucky enough to spy a horseshoe crab running around the shallow waters of the bay.

By the time we got back to the main building, it was time for the aquarium feeding, something we've never seen before. What a treat. I'd expected an intern to throw a couple of fish into a tank and call it a day, but I should have known to expect more from this great place. One of our favorite interns, Heather, brought out a box with a turtle named Pretty Girl in it. She talked a lot about the turtle to the spectating children, explaining what turtles do, what they eat and how they know Pretty Girl is indeed a girl. Then, each child got to feed the turtle, which just involved throwing a pellet of turtle food into her container. Next, the children got to help feed a boxful of baby turtles. They feasted on brine shrimp. Finally, Heather opened up the touch tank and the kids got to learn a little about each of the animals in it, including horseshoe crabs, sea urchins, fiddler crabs and sea stars. Carter held the sea urchin, which wiggled its spines as it sat in his hands. He was thrilled. Will held the horseshoe crab, an animal that has really captured his attention this summer.

Tuesday night, we headed to the Bayside Center for a program on Arctic Ice Caps. Although a little dry for most of the children in the room, it held Will's attention. They talked a lot about polar bears and Will was full of facts and figures following the presentation.

After camp today, we went to the Ocean City Historical Museum for their drop in program. It was lead by Miss Elyse, who we met last week at the Bayside Center, and my boys were the only ones in the program today. She gave them a brief tour of the museum, with a special emphasis on the history of the boardwalk. Then, they sat down together to decorate shells with beads, buttons, glitter and pipe cleaners. They loved it. The Museum does a drop in program every Wednesday for $2 a child. We'll definitely try it again next Wednesday.

After leaving the library, we headed to the playground at 9th and Bay. We pass it during our excursions to the Bayside Center and Carter especially has been dying to try it. During the heat of the afternoon, most playgrounds are empty as area kids are soaking up the sun on the beach. The boys and Charlotte had a great time exploring every corner of this playground, which includes a digger that the boys can sit in and scoop up sand, and monkey bars that are low enough that Carter could easily swing across. Our favorite playgrounds on the island have each earned a special name from us, meaningful to only us. This playground, forever to be known as the "purple and green playground" joins the ranks of "the fish playground" at 52nd and Haven, and "the playground that used to be wooden" at 34th and West.

From the playground, we went to the Bayside Center. We've been there plenty of times in the evening for programs, as well as the Night in Venice, but never during the day. They accept donations, but entrance is free to the public. Again, we were the only people there. We've gotten to know the woman who works there and she cheerfully opened up the new touch tank for the boys. They very knowledgeably identified and handled most of the tank's inhabitants, including horseshoe crabs, sea urchins, a spider crab, a hermit crab and more. The Center also has a huge sand box full of ocean treasures--shells and egg cases of all shapes and sizes--and a huge magnifying glass. The boys loved looking at all of these familiar things under the microscope, paying close attention to the new details. In the back of the room, the kids could sit at the huge picture window with a pair of binoculars to spot birds flying over the bay. The Center also has a room of life guard memorabilia, as well as another room of ship models, but the touch tank and shell exhibits were the favorites of my crew. The beach was really windy today and this was a great alternative.

But we didn't stop here. Wednesday is $6 pizza night at Blitz's Market, a deal that can't be beat! I picked up two pies and met our friend Julie and her three boys at the 34th Street Playground (otherwise known as "the playground that used to be wooden." The old wooden climbing structure was recently replaced by several modern structures, and the old wood chips replaced by a nice, soft rubber ground cover.) We had a picnic dinner of pizza and juice boxes. The kids could hardly contain themselves long enough to sit down and eat a slice of pizza. They were soon up and running, having the time of their lives, even Charlotte. She discovered a small slide at the playground. I'd take her to the top of the slide and drop her down into Julie's waiting arms. Charlotte would wiggle herself free, and run over to me to start the process over again.

The sudden rain storm didn't dampen the fun. We moved our party indoors to Pino's, a nearby ice cream shop. The rain really started to fall as it was time to go home. We don't usually drive to this playground, but I am so glad we did today. We ran to our car, laughing at what we have started to call God's shower. The boys insist that it got them clean enough to avoid a bath.

I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring. Beach, boardwalk, activity or craft? We're all going through our mental checklist, making sure we've done it all. Yes, I love Wednesdays in Ocean City and am so glad to have a few more before summer comes to an end.

Night Venice

This is the start of the true platinum weekend in Ocean City. You might think it is Memorial Day, 4th of July, Labor Day, but while those are all prime weekends at the shore, nothing beats Night in Venice, a boat parade that sails through the bay and lagoons of Ocean City. Boats and bay homes are decorated with a specific theme, this year, the Philadelphia Phillies or Ocean City's 100th Baby Parade. The town seems to take the preparation and competition quite seriously.


Or so they tell me. This is our second summer in Ocean City. Last year, we were still getting our sea legs here, getting used to shore living and an infant, so somehow missed the festivities. I have no idea how it all went over our heads, since everywhere I turn now, I see something about Nights in Venice.

We kicked off the weekend with a date night on Friday. While Maggie watched the kids, Craig and I headed downtown to the Asbury shopping district for the Merchants of Venice seafood festival. Two blocks of Asbury will filled with food vendors, selling all types of seafood, from crabcakes to calamari, as well as plenty of non-seafood fare. At two corners of the street, bands played. On either side of the block were kid activities. I have a strict rule about not seeing any one's kids when I am not seeing my own, so we stayed away from these areas filled with moon bounces, pony rides and a little train. Next year, we'll bring the kids. . . maybe. It was fun to be able to eat what I want, sit where I want and not have to mediate any arguments or get anyone a napkin, even though the night could not have been any more kid friendly.

Saturday was the Night in Venice. Earlier this month, I had purchased tickets to watch the festivities at the Bayside Center on 5th and Bay. The Bayside Center, as the name suggests, has a considerable amount of bayside property. They set up bleacher seats all around the perimeter of the bay, and there was plenty of room for others to set up a beach chair and get a perfectly good view. The gates opened at 5:00, and the parade was scheduled to start at 8:00, a full 30 minutes later than usual due to a low tide.

Although so much of our day is centered around the ocean, during Night in Venice, the bay is king. Those lucky enough to have a bayside home watch the parade from their own docks. Those lucky enough to know someone with a bayside home join their friends for a house party. Those who are even luckier and happen to own a boat, sail out and drop anchor along the watery parade route. The rest of us poor souls watch from the Bayside Center or from the bleacher seats set up by the bulkheads.

I would have been content to sit with my feet up and watch the water float by, but the kids are another story. Luckily, the Bayside Center was equipped for them, with a scavenger hunt, craft projects, including macaroni and shell necklaces and coloring activities, and a band. Craig and I stayed busy keeping the kids engaged and out of trouble--we were lucky to have Brian with us to help save our seats!

We brought our dinner, a bucket of chicken fingers and fries from Blitz's Market, but the Bayside Center was also selling hot dogs, water ice, sodas, cookies and other treats. Perfect parade fare.

The parade began just as the sun was setting. Although I've never really wanted a boat, now I wish I had one. Everyone looked like they were having so much fun. Many of the boats were decked out in lights and palm trees and filled with happy singing people. My favorite boat was a couple in a dinghy. As one person rowed, another held up a sign that announced "someone Madoff with my yacht." Carter's favorite boat was a Star Wars theme, with its occupants dressed up like characters from the famed movie, all holding light sabers. Will liked all of the boats decorated for the Phillies. Charlotte liked them all and was mesmerized by the lights and music, showing off to all by calling out one of her new words, "boat, boat."

At around 9:00, it was time for us to call it quits. We saw enough of the parade to say we'd been there and now know more about it so we can plan for next year. Who knows? Maybe by then, we'll have our own boat. . .

Maxed Out at IMAX

I thought we'd escaped the rain that has been plaguing the rest of the state, but, alas, today was a total wash with heavy rain from sun up to sun down. What's a mom at the shore to do?


I planned a field trip, that's what. After lunch and (another) painful quest to locate shoes for everyone in the house, we piled into the car and headed to Atlantic City. We've spent a lot of time this summer learning about sea life, and so I thought a trip to the Atlantic City Aquarium, followed by a viewing of the IMAX movie Life Under the Sea at the Tropicana, would be a perfect experience for us.


Our shoe search and the drive to the Aquarium took longer than I had expected. We no sooner got to the Aquarium then it was time to turn around to get to the Tropicana for a 3:00 showing of the movie.


I'm not a casino fan. It's no secret among those near and dear to me. Too many people, too much noise, too much money being poured down the drain. We walked into the Tropicana and Maggie, baby sitter extraordinaire, commented that Charlotte was on sensory overload. I think we all were. It was Christmas in July in the Tropicana, complete with carols and fake snow. We both felt kind of funny heading into a casino with three kids and no intention of gambling.


The thing about finding a fun activity in the rain at the shore is you are not the only one with the idea. We arrived at the theater about 30 minutes before the show was scheduled to start. I stood in line to order tickets and then in another line to buy snacks--Twizzlers for Carter, popcorn for Will and M&Ms for Charlotte. The lobby was already packed with people in line to go to the movie. It was a true feat of balance, strength and coordination for two adults to get three kids, four drinks, three snacks and a stroller into the theater.


The show was sold out. My goal in a public viewing of anything is to get an aisle seat next to a door, in case I need to make a speedy exit. Once everyone was seated, there was not an empty seat, and much drama as ushers checked tickets to make sure that everyone in a seat had a ticket.

The movie was in 3-D and the special effects were cool. All of the kids in the audience would reach out to try to grab an unsuspecting clown fish or dodge an aggressive eel.

Much of the movie was lost on me. I had been feeding Charlotte M&Ms to keep her quiet and happy during the show. She was, however, fascinated by the 3-D glasses. I should have just gotten her a pair of her own, since she kept grabbing mine and they were soon covered in chocolaty, sticky fingerprints.

She enjoyed much of the movie, making fishy sound effects and jumping up excitedly at the action in the film. Soon, though, she was distracted by Carter's orange soda, wanting so much to grab the straw and wave drops of syrupy drink all over the audience. When I stopped her, she screamed--time for a speedy exit.

As my eyes adjusted to the bright light of the casino again, I realized I was covered in M&M technicolor, smeared all over my shorts and t-shirt, as well as all over Charlotte's face, fingers and shirt.

All in all, I'd sum up the day like a backwards Mastercard commercial: price of IMAX tickets for 5, $60; candy, soda and popcorn, $30; parking at the Tropicana, $5; a new pair of shorts and two new t-shirts, $80; an afternoon of navigating through rainy AC streets, dealing with grumpy old people wanting to watch an IMAX show on their own terms, balancing three kids and their gear all for a 40-minute show, worthless.

Maybe on a sunny day or in the off-season, this would have been a more enjoyable trip. The kids did like the movie and, without prompting, thanked me for the day out. But for the next rainy day, I'll think of something else to do.

On the Way to Cape May

It isn't as much what we did on the way to Cape May, as it is what we did once we got there. Cape May is a great day trip from Ocean City, about a 45 minute drive, and we've only scratched the surface.

Our goal for our trip was two fold: see the sunken ship, the Atlantis, and to hunt for Cape May Diamonds.

The Atlantis is a World War I ship, constructed of concrete due to a steel shortage. Not surprisingly, it was quickly decommissioned due to its weight and slow speed. It was towed to Cape May where it was to be used as a loading platform for the ferry. The ship, however, broke her moorings during a storm and has been at Cape May's Sunset Beach ever since. The ship sinks lower into the sand each year and within a few years, will no longer be visible at all.

Will loved seeing the wreckage and spent some time plotting how he could get closer. He soon decided it was probably too far out for him to swim and spent some time trying to convince Maggie, my mother's helper at the shore, to have her father take him out to the ship on his boat. The idea that a ship wreck has become part of a casual landscape, with no fanfare or drama, is baffling to Will.

This trip to the beach was also a treasure hunt. I had heard of Cape May Diamonds before and was even more intrigued when Maggie, who has spent most of her summers in Cape May, said they were fairly easy to find on Sunset Beach.

The beach itself is rocky, and although it was scattered with sunbathers and swimmers, it probably isn't a great beach for relaxing. There's a deep drop off a few feet into the ocean and the waves are calm. But the beach is alive with treasures, and treasure hunters, like us.

Cape May Diamonds aren't diamonds at all, but quartz. The rocks are actually washed up by the Delaware River. They were first discovered by the Kechemeche Indians, who believe the diamonds have supernatural powers, bringing success and good luck. It takes the pieces of quartz thousands of years to travel down the Delaware River. Upon reaching the mouth of the river, the strong flow hits the sides of the Atlantis, which has formed a man-made reef, and propels the pieces of rock up on the beach.

Although rocky, the stones on the beach are all smooth, worn by the waters of the Delaware and the Atlantic. The boys, who do love to dig in the sand, were rewarded with actual treasure this time. We found many diamonds. Carter was just as happy to put any pretty rock into his bucket. Charlotte liked to dump gravel into the buckets by the handle, filling up my bucket, with diamonds by the dozen, with random rocks. Will soon lost interest, lured again by the vision of the Atlantis, and his dreams of exploring it more closely. I, on the other hand, could have searched for diamonds all day long. Once again, I wrestled my bucket away from Charlotte and filled the bottom of it with diamonds. I left it balanced on top of the stroller, only to have a gust of wind knock it down. The kids' attention span was waning, so our trip was shorter than I would have liked. I gathered up as many as I could, probably a dozen or so, and hope to go back again to find more. They would look so pretty in a glass vase on my kitchen counter.

After a brief stop in the Sunset Beach gift shop (where, for those of you not lucky enough to find your own Cape May Diamonds, you can buy them, already polished, faceted, and placed in a jewelry setting), where we enjoyed the air conditioning and bargain shopping, we headed to a World War II lookout tower, Fire Control Tower # 23. Built in 1942, it is one of the last few remaining restored lookout towers. When in use, 8 soldiers were stationed there at a time, acting as lookouts in 12-hour shifts. Now, the tower is equipped with a spiral staircase, but during WWII, soldiers climbed to the top by ladder. Four at a time would sit at the top of the tower, looking for enemy ships and plans. By looking through the tower windows, we could see far into the ocean. It was a great history lesson, and a great view, for us all.

Another close by attraction is the Cape May Lighthouse. We could see it from the tower, but didn't the energy left to climb its hundreds of steps.

We'll make our way down to Cape May again. In addition to the lighthouse, there's a World War II bunker, trolley rides, the ferry, whale and dolphin watching--so many things to do. And, of course, more diamonds to discover, as well.

Ahoy Mateys!

We had planned on going to the Family Movie Night in Ocean City tonight. They were playing Charlotte's Web, the original cartoon version. In honor of our own little Charlotte, it is one of our favorite movies.

However, when we heard about the topic for the speaker tonight at the Bayside Center, we made a quick change in plans. Tonight, two women from the Ocean City Historical Museum delighted us with stories and pictures about pirates, shipwrecks and whalers right here in Ocean City.

Will has a fascination with shipwrecks. It started with the Titanic and has continued throughout our time in Ocean City. This area, as you might imagine, is home to many shipwrecks, the most famous being the Sindia (built coincidentally, by the same company that constructed the Titanic), a sailing vessel that was beached in Ocean City in the early 1900s. Until very recently, you could see portions of the ship from the 17th street beach. There is a pavilion on the boardwalk at 17th street, commemorating the ship, named for an Indian Maharajah. Will loves to stop here on the boardwalk and gazes into the horizon, hoping for a glimpse of the Sindia, scheming a way to dig up the old ship.

We learned more about the ill-fated Sindia tonight, with lots of pictures and maps brought over from the museum. Will especially loved the photos of the Sindia throughout the years, where we could see the ship sinking deeper and deeper into the sand.

What little boy doesn't like the lore of pirates? The boys have been inspired to dig even more on the beach, as we now know that famous pirates Black Beard and Captain Kidd probably passed through Ocean City and may have buried treasure in these parts while trying to allude authorities.

We also learned that many Ocean City residents can trace their heritage back to the Mayflower, their ancestors having journeyed down to New Jersey for whaling. A fan of Whale Wars, Will was intrigued by these stories of when whaling was a livelihood.

The presentation culminated with a craft. The speakers had shown examples of antique scrimshaw, intricate carvings made into the bone and teeth of whales. Each person then got to make their own scrimshaw by using a pin to carve a picture into a piece of foam core poster board. Once the picture was carved, the children scribbled over the surface of their artwork with crayon, and then rubbed away the excess crayon with a napkin, leaving just the "engraved" pieces colored in. The kids loved it and worked away quietly on their masterpieces.

The Ocean City Historical Museum is another of Will's favorite places and worth a trip if you find yourself with a spare 30 minutes in Ocean City. Not very big, it is filled with O.C. artifacts, including findings from the Sindia. We found out that they offer drop-in children's programs on Wednesdays, every half hour from 10:30 to 2:30. Each week, they offer a new activity for $2 per child. We'll definitely give it a try.

I'm so glad we made it to the Bayside Center tonight. We ended our trip with a gorgeous view of the sunset on the bay, a really dramatic event from the back deck of the Center. It stopped Carter in his tracks, prompting him to ask what was pushing the sun down. I'm saving the answer to that question, and the viewing of Charlotte's Web, for another night.

Crabby Kids

Thanks to our time at the Wetlands Institute in Stone Harbor, the boys have a new fascination with the water. Dip a net into the water, you almost always pull out something interesting. They love a program at the Wetlands Institute called Catch of the Day, where kids get to pull a seine net through the water and dump its contents into a large tub where they can inspect the wonders of the bay: minnows, shrimp, mussels, jelly fish and seaweed, lots of seaweed. At times, they also give each child a hand net. They love to sprawl on their bellies on the wooden dock, purposefully scooping out the bay's treasures to inspect. Will, surprisingly, is not squeamish and is happy to hold a squirming minnow between his fingers.

Both boys were excited at the prospect of crabbing today. After a brief session of Internet research, Will and Craig headed to a local bait and tackle store to buy some traps. There, they also received the lay of the land, picking up some bait and the locations of some good places to go crabbing.

So, joined by Colleen and Brian, we piled in the car and headed to our location. I’m not sure I want to tell you exactly where, since we were the only ones there to crab (we were joined by some spectators) and had a moderate amount of success.

For bait, Craig had picked up two frozen fish, which he bravely hacked right in two for a fishy set of heads and tails. There was some debate by Carter whether “front bait” or “bottom bait” would be better for catching crabs. We started with the tail section and threw our nets into the bay.

Within a few minutes, we had caught our first crab, a feisty blue claw, so angry at his capture. We used our leftover bucket of chicken container from a recent dinner at Blitz’s market to hold our crabby prisoners. Once we had a few crabs, we had to put the lid on to keep them from escaping.

After a few hours of crabbing, we had six good-sized crabs. That was enough for dinner for all of us. Will and Carter wanted to keep them, but were undecided about dinner. I believe they had delusions about having six new friends for their hermit crabs. Will had the honors of depositing the crustaceans back into the bay, with he did with one delft swing of the bucket.

We’ll go back again, probably to catch the same six crabs. We all had fun catching crabs, but am not sure we have the heart to actually eat them. We'll save our crab appetite for a restaurant, where we don't know the crabs quite so well.

When Life Gives You Lemons

If it is possible for a child to have an entrepreneurial spirit, Will truly does. His favorite thing to play is "store," and he has finally succeeded in training Carter to join him in a pretend game where they sell their toys, artwork and pretend food, at a price, to willing family members, namely, Craig and me.

Last year, for his birthday, Will asked his Aunt Colleen for a lemonade stand. And she delivered, giving him a nifty little contraption that looks like an old fashioned peddler's cart, squeezing lemons and dispensing the tart juice into cups.

He's been thinking about selling lemonade for many, many months. We decided it would be a perfect venture for him at the beach in Ocean City, where he could provide a refreshing beverage in the afternoon, just as tired-out beach goers are on the long, hot walk home.

Our lemonade stand took more planning than you might imagine. First, we took a trip to the farmer's market we like for some lemons, 2 dozen to be exact. The next morning, we went on a walk down the boardwalk, scoping out the competition. Since fresh squeezed lemonade runs about $4 a cup on the boardwalk, we knew we'd catch the bargain shoppers with our 25-cents a glass sale. Then came the actual lemonade making. Craig found a tasty recipe for the perfect cup of lemonade and made up a batch of simple syrup.(Here's the recipe:

http://www.elise.com/recipes/archives/000479perfect_lemonade.php). He and Will then squeezed the juice out of several lemons and added ice, putting our poor ice maker on over drive. Finally, the sign. Will thought long and hard about his wording, finally selecting "real, homemade lemonade," illustrating a picture of his wares as well. My favorite part of his stand was Will's tip jar, his very own idea. He took one of his lemonade cups and stuck a piece of masking tape with the word "tips" written in magic market on it, something he must have picked up on one of the boardwalk stands.

We set him up in front of our house, where he immediately attracted attention. Our upstairs neighbors were the first customers, requesting a cup to be delivered to them directly. Dog walkers and bike riders also stopped. Will went through a few batches right in front of the house and, unless Craig or I was there to remind him, he conveniently forgot to offer people change. He's cute enough that people must not mind paying a 75-cent premium.

All good businessmen know that three keys to success are location, location, location. And Will is no different. Once he realized that he was missing prime business from people walking down the cross street, past his location on Central Avenue, Will picked up and moved business to the corner--his own idea. Thinking I would help him out and buy a cup, I walked down to the corner only to find him absolutely mobbed--and sold out. He was devastated since many people had said they would be back for more. Craig consoled him by explaining that another key to business is to always leave the people wanting more. As you might imagine, Will is already thinking about his next lemonade stand.

Will's first day in business was a success and he banked about $18, a pretty good profit for a few hours of work, considering he didn't even buy the lemons. There's money to be made in the lemonade business, especially if you're a gap-toothed, smiling 7-year-old. Sure, I bought the lemons and Craig helped with the actual concoction, but Will, with a little help from sidekick Carter, did all the selling himself. He sat there in the hot sun, unwilling to disappoint his customers who might find themselves both thirsty and with a quarter in their pockets just as they pass him by. I'm sure by the end of the summer, he'll have a loyal following, and some fond memories of his first real store.

Night at the Movies

For a change of pace, we headed over the bridge after dinner for a night at the movies in Sea Isle City. Like in Ocean City, Sea Isle has a family movie night. Ocean City's movie night is in the Cornerstone Auditorium on the 2nd floor of Stainton's Square at 810 Asbury Avenue on Tuesdays at 7:15. For $4 per person, or $15 per family, not only do you watch a family-friendly movie, but they serve pizza, popcorn and sodas. We went last year for a viewing of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and will definitely be going back next Tuesday for Charlotte's Web, as well as some of the other movies planned for the each, all from the 1970s--perfect for Will, who is growing wary of "babyish" cartoons, and for me, who gets to relive my youth in cinema.

Across the bridge in Sea Isle, family movie night is twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays at dusk, outside in a field next to the promenade. A huge movie screen and projector sit at one end of the field. Blankets and beach chairs scatter across the field as daytime beach goers became nighttime movie watchers. Each child was given a "Sea Isle" beach ball and a small container of bubbles, keeping them all entertained before the movie started. A local restaurant, Shoobie's, handed out free bags of popcorn, much to my boys' delight. And, save for the $1.50 bridge toll, the night was absolutely free!

Tonight's feature film was Flipper. The night was definitely more about the venue than the movie itself. If you haven't seen it, but have seen other tween favorites like Firehouse Dog, Hotel for Dogs, Free Willy, you know the story all ready. Misfit boy meets misfit animal, hijinks ensue, followed by drama and tragedy, culminating in a poignant ending. Will and Carter ended up in the two beach chairs we brought. Will loved the movie--it is right up a 7-year-old's alley. The plot twists were exciting to him, even though he had seen them previously in the other aforementioned movies. Carter enjoyed it, but once his popcorn was done, he propped his Crocs on top of his new beach ball and fell sound asleep. I had expected Charlotte to sleep in her stroller, but she stayed awake and happy for the whole movie, spending most of it chatting to the woman sitting next to me.

I've been gun shy about taking Charlotte to a movie again, since our last outing to see Up on the boardwalk a few weeks ago. We had to leave Craig and the boy to see the movie on their own before the opening credits were even over. However, seeing a movie outside is perfect for kids--they can make a little noise, they can get up--it's all a little more relaxed.

Next time, we'll put our blanket and chairs down to save our spots and then run onto the promenade for a slice of pizza or a snack, maybe a scoop of ice cream. Although the beach balls kept the boys entertained, we did spent a lot of time just waiting for that sun to go down so the movie could start. Everyone else seemed to think ahead and bring bug spray. However, the constant mists of DEET seemed to have a group effect and we escaped the buggy field without a bite. Sweatshirts were a must and I'm glad that Will also threw sweatpants into my bag. The ocean breeze cooled down our open air theater considerably.

The downside? There's only one, really. The movie doesn't start until dusk, so we didn't really start watching until 8:30. Carter stayed asleep through Charlotte's shrieks of protest over being put back in the stroller, me picking him up and putting him in the grass as I folded up the beach chair, and then picking him up and carrying him halfway to the car. When my arms gave out, he quietly stumbled to the car, his eyes only half open. Although it made it difficult to get my 3 zombie-eyed kids to the car, I'm glad that they were too sleepy to notice the nightly Sea Isle bar crowd was out in force as we walked down 40th Street.

By the time we found ourselves back in Ocean City again, all three kids were zonked in the backseat, which left me with a real dilemma--how do I get them all inside? The boys were so sound asleep, heads tilted to the sides, mouthes wide open. I finally decided to wake them up, but found the only way to do so was to unbuckle their seat belts and stand them up in the driveway. As I was helping Will, and then picking up Charlotte, Carter kept leaning over and resting his sleepy head onto the side of my car, and then curling up and falling back asleep right on the concrete. It was quite a challenge to get them all awake enough to trek into the house.

Will moaned as I shepherded them up the stairs, "Can I please go right to bed?" What music to any mother's ears!

Bayside Nature Center

I'm always up for a field trip, something new to see, something different to learn. The kids and I have developed a nice little routine here in Ocean City. We now have things to do, places to go and people--people who actually know us--to see. Still, the idea of doing something new is always appealing.

I'd read many times of the Bayside Nature Center, but every time I'd searched for it online, I'd come up empty handed. Save for a description on the OC Chamber of Commerce website, I couldn't find a website, a schedule or anything. A website is a great mom barometer. It helps me judge if an event or attraction is worth getting 3 kids into the car, buckling car seats, navigating through traffic, unbuckling car seats and getting 3 kids out of the car.

Today, we went to the beach with our new friends from camp, Zach and his mom Brenda. When Brenda mentioned the Bayside Center, I knew we had to give it a try. After dinner, we met there, at 5th and Bay, to hear a kid-friendly speaker. The speaker, however, was late, and after 20 minutes of letting the kids run around the parking lot, we decided to call it a night.

Sometimes it pays to be slow. It took me a while to load every one back into the car, and just as we were pulling out of the driveway, the speaker arrived. He waved us back into the parking lot and convinced us to stay. Will and Carter made up the small, but captive audience.

The speaker, a man named Colby from the Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge (www.fsw.gov.northeast/forsythe), talked to the kids about the wilderness. He gave then note cards and asked them to write or draw what they thought of when he said the word "wild." Will drew a dinosaur and a swordfish. (Carter wrote the letters x, o and t, never missing an opportunity to show off. He later demonstrated his ability to add and spell the words "top" and "tot." Thank you, Electric Company.) He then talked to the kids about what wilderness is and showed them pictures of his trips through the wilderness in the desert in Joshua Tree, in Alaska and in Idaho.

He did a great job and really kept the kids engaged. Real kudos to him, since I'm sure we weren't quite the audience he was expecting. He gave the kids lots of opportunities to ask questions and they learned a lot about native plants, caribou, bears and moose, plus a lot about the concept of preserving our nation's wilderness.

The Bayside Nature Center is also a museum, right on the Ocean City bay. Another bonus of our private class was the wonderful view of the sunset from the top floor of the center. We'll definitely go back to explore the museum itself, which includes a whole room on life saving, right up Will's alley. Every Tuesday and Thursday night, they offer free, hands-on presentations done by different speakers from the community, all geared towards kids and nature.

We'll definitely go back again. Website or not, it passes this mom's 3-kids-in-car seats test.

Gambling for Family Fun

Our boys beg to go to Atlantic City. Not to gamble, of course, although they have seen the gaming floors, filled with one-armed bandits and roulette wheels, as we trek from parking garage to the infamous boardwalk, but to go to their favorite restaurant, The Rainforest Cafe.

There are many reasons why they enjoy this outing. The restaurant is decorated to look like you're dining al fresco in the rainforest. Every so often, the already dim lights flash and the room fills with mist as life size, animated jungle animals yelp and screech. (The boys love this part. Charlotte, not so much.) The highlight, I believe, is light-up drinking cups. Filled to the brim with lemonade or chocolate milk, these plastic cups sparkle in the restaurant's darkness. Plus, they can take them home, making them a drinking vessel and souvenir all in one. So, when Craig and I feel like driving for 30 minutes, finding a parking spot in an overpriced casino garage, and spending $100 of our hard-earned cash on lunch, we're happy to oblige.

If this were an SAT question, I'd say the Atlantic City Boardwalk is to the Ocean City Boardwalk as Barney Miller is to Andy Griffith. Take the OC Boardwalk, add alcohol, cigarettes, gambling and pawn shops, replace surreys with pedicabs, and you have the AC Boardwalk. I don't know if I'd ever venture there with the kids on my own, not just because it is a slightly rougher destination, but also because I'm not sure I could ever navigate back through the casino to the car.

Yet, people watching and shopping on the AC Boardwalk can't be beat. We dined today at the Rainforest Cafe, the result of some good behavior and several weeks of begging from the boys. With full bellies, and empty pockets, we walked off our lunch by exploring the near-by shopping mall, The Pier Shops at Caesar’s, an extravaganza of overpriced designer stores overlooking the ocean. We never buy, just look, despite the Siren call of the technicolor candy store, It'Sugar, the home of giant gummy bears and other cavity-inducing treats.

At the end of the mall, on the first floor, is a fountain that displays a water show once an hour, on the hour. I wouldn't plan a trip around this attraction, but it sure was fun to watch. Loud music played as the fountain spouted water at difference heights and speeds, accompanied by flashing, multi-colored lights. Imagine fireworks, but with water instead of ammunition. The kids' reaction reminded me of watching 4th of July fireworks on the beach this year. Charlotte, wide-eyed in amazement, clapped away, unprompted by me. She clung to me like a koala bear, slightly taken back by the display, but intrigued nonetheless. Carter jumped in time to the music, raising his fists in the air, giving high fives to imaginary onlookers, his excitement both palpable and contagious. Will watched in awe, as Craig and I did as well. What an unexpected treat for us all.

Surrey with the Fringe On Top

It's no secret that I love the Ocean City boardwalk. Yes, it can be fun to stroll down the boardwalk to snack, shop and people watch. But for me, a trip to the boardwalk is more about the journey than the destination.

My goal for the summer is to ride the boardwalk from end to end, a six mile round trip, from where it starts at 23rd Street all the way to the North end of the island. Will has made the trip a few times with his buddies next door. Carter, Charlotte and I usually make it to about 12th Street, where Carter declares that he is simultaneously tired and thirsty. Tired legs are an insurmountable obstacle to a stubborn 4-year-old. Will usually catches us on his loop back to 23rd Street, finding me walking alongside my cruiser, with Carter sitting on my bicycle seat, Charlotte in the back, and Carter's two-wheeler precariously balanced on my front basket. Old ladies cluck their tongues, and knowing mothers who have been there and done that give me crooked smiles. Will likes to pass us with a smirk and impatiently wait for us at the end of the trail.

With the two boys in camp last week, I thought Charlotte and I would finally make it to the end of the boardwalk. We made it to Oves Restaurant, close, but not quite, to the end. When she started to fuss, I reluctantly turned around, knowing there was still unexplored territory ahead.

Make no mistake, the boardwalk is just as fun to explore by foot. When Mom was visiting last week, she tested out a new pedometer. Our strolls on the boardwalk alone helped us log way over 10,000 steps a day. Of course, the adrenaline rush from jumping out of the way of racing bikers, sweaty runners, wayward surreys and swooping seagulls turned our leisurely steps into more of an aerobic workout.

But is there any better way to tour the Ocean City boardwalk then by surrey? Nope, no fringe on these surreys, but who wouldn't feel like singing while pedaling this part bicycle-built-for-4, part Flintstones car? I dream of one day having my own surrey that I'll park in the garage and use to pedal us all to the steps to the beach or to haul our kayaks to the bay. I have my someday-surrey already decorated in my dreams in red, white and blue for the annual 4th of July parade, in which, one day, I will win first prize.



For now, I'll settle to rent one. My friend Jen and I (of Uncle Bill's fame) decided, after our ill-fated restaurant trip, that we'd take all seven of our children on a surrey ride. The babies rode up front in the baskets. Will sat in front, next to Jen and me, the brave captains of the surrey, where he was always willing to lend a hand by unexpectedly pulling on the brake or "helping" steer. The remaining four crammed into the back, squished together as we pushed the surrey occupancy limits and tested the strength of our flip-flopped feet.


The hardest part of riding a surrey is the trip up and, as you might imagine, the trip back down, the ramp up to the boardwalk. We realized halfway up the ramp that with only two adults pedaling, we couldn't make it up the ramp. I'm not sure how we did it, but Jen and I managed to hop out of the surrey and muster up all of our inner mom strength to push that vehicle--and its wiggling, screaming occupants--up that ramp.

Surreys aren't permitted to explore the boardwalk in its entirety--only from about 14th to maybe 4th Street where the walkway is at its widest. We used part of our hour rental pedaling down the ocean side, enjoying the breeze and laughing at the attention we attracting. (Do onlookers smile because the kids are cute or because they pity for us? We're still not sure.) Yet, those demons Hungry and his evil brother Thirsty struck--all 7 kids. We tried to satiate these persistent brothers with hot, fried donuts and icy lemonade from the food court, while the surrey rested in front of a not-yet-open Mack & Manco's Pizza.

Hungry and Thirsty were soon chased away by other well-known twins, Hot and Tired. (Perhaps you know them, as well?) We loaded back onto the surrey and pedaled back down to our starting point. The trip back down the ramp was as frightening as the trip up. I held onto the handbrake, several of the kids squeezed their eyes shut, and we shouted warnings of our uncontrolled descent to the unsuspecting bikers in our path.

Whether by bicycle, surrey or by foot, I've explored almost every inch of the OC Boardwalk--with the exception of those elusive last few blocks. Yet, each time is its own adventure. When we arrive back home, our hair is windblown, our skin is salty, and often, our tummies are full--and we're already planning our next journey down the Boardwalk.

Hut, 2, 3, 4

My mom has been visiting us at the beach, so we've really been up for some extra exploring. Last week, we drove the kids down to the Aviation Museum at the Cape May Airport. It is about a 40-minute drive from Ocean City. You can preview the venue at: http://usnasw.org/. If you're a AAA member, be sure to bring your card for a discount off of admission.

Will is a collector of facts, greedily stuffing them into his pockets like other kids would candy or toys. He just wants to know, and has a special interest in the military. A few years ago, we went to the National Air Force Museum at the Wright-Patterson Air Force Base with my grandfather, a WWII and Korean War Air Force pilot. Will still talks about that trip and had really looked forward to checking out this museum.

It was right up his alley. This is a no frills museum--a huge hanger at the Wildwood Naval Air Station and Cape May Airport. It is filled with restored air craft and vehicles, many from the Vietnam and Korean wars. Many of them are equipped with ladders, which the kids can either climb and inspect the inside of the plane or actually sit in the cockpit. Will was in his element. I followed him around while he tried plane after plane after plane, his face decorated with a perpetual grin.

Will especially loved a display on radar. He officiously sat at a desk surrounded by outdated radar equipment, pressing buttons and yelling commands to imaginary soldiers. He relinquished control after accidentally setting off an alarm, obviously set up to startle kids in command. His eyes were wide as saucers as he slowly backed away from the display, to the amusement of the museum docent.

The Franklin Institute has also provided several hands-on exhibits that work to explain the mechanics of flying, such as how the angle of the wing changes the flight pattern. Will enjoyed those as well, but they came in a definite second to the airplanes.

Following the Aviation Museum, we headed to the Historic Cold Spring Village (http://www.hcsv.org/), an open-air Early American museum. The boys had purchased army helmets at the Aviation Museum and continued to wear them here, dutifully marching through the museum grounds. Will, with his love of facts, thoroughly enjoyed this visit as well. The museum features a collection of 20 restored buildings, each one with a guide dressed in costume, who will tell about the building and answer questions. Will particularly liked the school, where he learned about slates and the dreaded dunce cap.

Mosquitoes were out in force that day. "I'm afraid we grow there here, too," a guide explained. We were miserable, hot and itchy after about an hour and decided to call it quits, much to Will's disappointment. That's a trip I'll try again in the fall.

Moms versus Kids

In the hard-fought battle of mom versus kids, the kids most always win. They have sheer numbers on their side. Plus, a knack for modern technology that we'll never have. And a natural lack of modesty. We're just no match, no matter what we do.

Still, I wake up each day ready to fight again. I never think I'm going to lose, but go to bed each night out run and out smarted. But, I never learn.

Last week, my friend Jen was down in Ocean City with her four kids. After a weekend family get together while the husbands were around, we decided to try it again: seven kids and two moms.

We met at Jen's house, packed lunches, gathered our beach gear, sprayed the kids down with sun screen, loaded our beach bags to the brim and marched the kids to the beach. It was quite an effort to get to the beach, as it always is with kids, but once we got there, the kids had a great time and entertained each other. I actually sat on my beach chair for a full 10 minutes, a never before achieved feat! We made a good team, as we switched off playing lifeguard to the older children playing in the surf and playing watch dog to the young-uns, apt to throw sand at passers by.

The day went swimmingly, and we congratulated ourselves as we left the beach. Not only had we survived, the kids were happy, no one was bleeding, neither of us had had to yell. That's what I call a good day.

So, we kept going. We put the babies down for a nap and let the good times continue with a dip in the pool. The older kids swam all afternoon, stopping now and then for a snack or for a rest in the sun. Again, the kids were happy, no one was bleeding, and still, no yelling.

So, we kept going. The kids were tired, they'd been together all day and it was dinner time. What would any mother with seven kids in her care do? Why, take them to a restaurant, of course!

Most restaurants in Ocean City are very family friend. We choose Uncle Bill's down on 40th Street. I hesitate to give too many details about the restaurant, since I'm not sure that they are still in business after being pelted with the kid storm that we brought in with us.

Jen and I will probably always refer to this as the Ocean City Restaurant Incident of 2009. No one was bad, really, but put seven kids and two moms in a restaurant together, and it is unlikely that anyone will leave unscathed. Two kids spilled their milk, so the floor was soon wet with puddles of chocolate and plain milk, with soggy dinner napkins in the middle of each spill, an unsuccessful attempt to clean up our clumsiness. Four of the kids talked nonstop about different topics interesting only to boys between the ages of 4 and 9. I won't get into details here. If you've ever talked to a 7-year-old boy, you know. Plates were passed back and forth. Straws were traded. They stood up, they sat down. The laughed and laughed. Charlotte screamed to get out of her high chair, so I spent the majority of the meal standing up with her on my hip, eating my hamburger with my free hand.

We attracted some attention from the restaurant hostess. Following our second milk spill and Charlotte's melt down, she can over to see if everything was okay. We smiled and apologized for the mess and the noise. We were doing the best we could. Her eyes quietly scanned our table and her lips pursed into a tight circle. "Oh," she quietly said, and backed away from the table.

It got much worse. Much worse. I'll leave it to your imagination. The restaurant was practically empty, but our waitress was suddenly busy. Very busy. She raced back and forth between the kitchen and her two other tables. I think she was trying to disassociate herself from our table. Maybe she was hoping that we'd pull a "dine and dash." After waiting for 15 minutes for our check, we thought about it. I think they would have let us go without much of a chase if we promised never to come back.

Jen is a very talented photographer and we wanted to follow up our restaurant adventure with a trip to Corson's Inlet to take some photos of the kids. The plan was for her to photograph my kids while I watched hers. We took our clean, fed, happy children to the beach. I expected mine to smile for the camera. I expected hers to sit with me as I kept them engaged with a rousing game of Simon Says.

Needless to say, we left the beach an hour later with seven wet and sandy children. Exhausted, we cleaned them up and got them into their respective cars. "What about dessert?" they questioned. They could have kept going. We were done. Jen got some lovely photos of Charlotte, including the one in this post. Next time, though, I'll rent some models to stand in for my older children.

The day didn't go quite as I expected, but the kids were happy, no one was bleeding, neither of us had to yell--much. I'd call that a good day. Still, I'd chalk up the day as a win for the kids, once again. Kids, 1. Moms, 0. But, a good day nonetheless. You can't win them all.