{"id":107,"date":"2013-10-31T12:46:42","date_gmt":"2013-10-31T19:46:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/?p=107"},"modified":"2013-10-31T12:46:42","modified_gmt":"2013-10-31T19:46:42","slug":"road-trip-to-the-beach-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/?p=107","title":{"rendered":"Road Trip To The Beach"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"beach<\/a>Growing up, I remember several long car rides. Sitting in the back seat for 8 hours or more\u00a0was unavoidable,\u00a0but nothing in comparison to the perceived excitement of the destination. There was curiosity, expectation, and an abundance of bathroom breaks (mostly because of me). The summer we drove to Florida I was 6 years old. It was just a few weeks after my birthday, and I remember the sand was so bright it hurt my eyes. It was loud and noisy on the beach.\u00a0We had towels, buckets, shovels, sunscreen, hats, and a sense of purpose. We dug holes in the sand to fill the buckets with and were delighted and amazed to see the empty hole fill with water. We ran to the edge of the water, letting the waves gently wet our feet and chill us. The ocean waves seemed to be returning to the beach over and over. It was mesmerizing.<\/p>\n

Most of the waves were only as high as my knees as I ventured into the water from\u00a0dry sand.\u00a0Some waves rose as high as my torso. I watched my older brother, further out and in deeper water. He was laughing, jumping into the waves and being carried back toward the shore. Then, I’m not sure what happened, but I was drenched. My whole body wet, hair clinging to my face and my eyes felt like they were on fire. I was crying, probably screaming, nose burning\u00a0and running into my mouth. I had an overwhelming taste of salt and sour in my mouth, throat and nose. Then I became afraid. Afraid of the water, and angry at the ocean, really. How could it do that to me? Ruin all my fun? I remember my mom cleaning me up, wiping my eyes, telling me to, “Blow.” And I remember my dad, telling me to quit crying, taking me by the wrist and leading me back to the water, despite my whining and protests. I remember squealing as a wave splashed me, my eyes stinging, dad telling me to turn my back to the wave before it got to me, and to just wipe my eyes when they got wet. He said something like, “It isn’t that bad. You have to get used to it.” It took me a good while on the beach after that for me to start enjoying myself again, and it seemed like just when that happened, it was time for us to leave.\"beach<\/a><\/p>\n

Years later, I was in the Sea of Cortez on a scuba diving certification trip. One of the skills a diver must perform is to take their mask off under water and put it back on. Salt water is trapped inside the mask until it is ‘blown out’ using\u00a0your nose.\u00a0The salt water definitely got into my eyes during this skill, and there was no way for me to wipe my eyes. It was uncomfortable, my eyes watered and stung but I remembered my dad saying, “It isn’t that bad. You have to get used to it.”<\/p>\n

Parents play several roles in their child’s life. They protect, nurture, discipline, support and teach. My parents have taught me so much, some of which I am still discovering. What a valuable lesson that a parent or caregiver has taught you?<\/p>\n

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Growing up, I remember several long car rides. Sitting in the back seat for 8 hours or more\u00a0was unavoidable,\u00a0but nothing in comparison to the perceived excitement of the destination. There was curiosity, expectation, and an abundance of bathroom breaks (mostly … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-107","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/107","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=107"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/107\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":122,"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/107\/revisions\/122"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=107"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=107"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/blackberryhideout.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=107"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}