Moss Beach Tidepools

Today I did not have a plan. I like to wake up with a plan, or it takes too long to leave the house, and meanwhile the kids start messing around, fighting, screaming, ransacking, etc. So I got online and started looking around. It was sunny outside, and looked as if it was even sunny along the coast. So I checked the tide chart. Low tide was at 6 AM, and the high at 1. So at 9:30, I figured we'd better get going if we wanted to see the tidepools (and get over the bridge for free as carpool). So we hustled and left in a hurry. Who needs a shower?
The weather was beautiful. There is something so nice about a sunny summer day along the ocean, during the week when most folks are either away on vacation, or holed up in an office. The lanes were clear. The sky was blue and the horizon felt open and free. I could've driven down hwy 1 all day. At Devil's Slide Zoe shrieked about how far down the beach was. "But how do we get down there"? And as we curved along the coast, looking out over the ocean Zoe started in about the waves.
"Are there waves at the beach mommy?"
"yes, honey. But the reef keeps them back so they can't surprise you. They're small ones."
"But will they try to get me?"
"No honey. The waves won't get you there. I'll watch for them".
And on and on about the waves, and are they going to get her, or are they nice etc.
She is obsessed about waves, and I'm lucky just to get her on the sand.
So we arrived at our destination, and as promised, the beach there is protected by a reef so the waves that dragged off a mother and daughter down the way at Montara last week, won't come near my babies as they dig in the sand.
Still, Zoe is fearful of the ocean. It's good to have a healthy fear of the ocean- everyone should. But when does it border on nonsense?
We set our stuff down near the water's edge at the end of the beach where it had been closed off with pylons to keep people back from the roosting harbor seals that were frolicking in the sand where the reef opens up for a clear path to the ocean.
I needed 6 hands. 3 to keep Julian from throwing himself into the water, two for Zoe to cling to, and one to hold the camera. I was juggling. Julian would run for the deep screaming and splashing, then protest, squeal and go boneless as I lifted him out of the water. He wanted to squish snails with his fingers, plunge himself into the clear cold water in the nooks and crannies between the rocks, strand himself on the islands between tidepools, and investigate every piece of seaweed, rock, or stinky looking morsel. I pointed out a hermit crab that had taken over a snail's shell.
"Zoe, come look at the hermit crab,"
Next thing I know, Zoe has raced to the safety of the sand and is SCREAMING that the hermit crab is "going to get me".
This may be where the fears start to get nonsensical. It was all I could do to calm her down- which meant dragging Julian out of the tidepools and back onto dry sand which sent him into a hissy fit and then I had two rioting toddlers on my hands, here on this gorgeous beach, on a warm sunny day, with seals barking nearby, and water sparkling all around me.
Ah, the joys of motherhood. What other time in your life can you wake up on a Wednesday and say to yourself, "I think I'll drive along the coast today and roll up my pants and splash in the tidepools until I get hungry and then go eat handmade Pizza in a garden and drive home counting the kinds of wild flowers that grow along the roadside?