The Perfect Storm

In the weeks leading up to our beach trip, I was increasingly nervous that our annual vacation would be ruined by a hurricane. The summer's weather had been strangely quiet despite predictions of a rough season, so I feared Mother Nature was storing up for a disastrous storm.

As it turned out, the weather was mostly beautiful while we were at the beach. But I was right to be worried -- although it may not have made the news where you are, there was a big coastal tempest by the name of Hurricane Pippi:

Hurricane Pippi brought sunny skies and nice breezes, but also 5 a.m. wake-up calls, nap strikes and perpetual motion accompanied by serious teething. When she wasn't chasing the sea gulls or running into the ocean, she was attempting to remove her swimsuit, rolling in the sand, stealing our friends' snacks, yelling at the top of her lungs and tasting shells.

And as if that weren't enough, there was the Friday evening adventure to urgent care to check her wrist that may or may not have been sprained by her mother (who was holding Pippi's hand and jerked on her arm to keep her from sticking the other hand in a bag of poopy diaper -- you know the move because you've done it a million times before). She was fine by bedtime, but her anguished sobs and complete refusal to use her left hand had us scared for a few hours.

All in all, it was a wonderful vacation with family and friends. But now I need a week to recover from Hurricane Pip. Thank goodness preschool starts on Wednesday!
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