It all commences with the loading of the prambulator with the necessery stuff, and making it look not too different form a camel on a month long caravan journey, or a donkey. Not very flattering to a mother pushing it any how.
On go, the several cotton baby sheets, several beach towels, 3 sun hats, sweets snacks, real food, and fruit, water, sun cream, bottom cream and sun tan oil. ...
Nappies and multiple weather, multiple quantity of clothes for the baby who poops and vomits frequently.
Clothes for the son and self, swimming gear, toys, paints, canvasses, money and a phone (which always dies somewhere on the way)
I than emotionally manipulate and drag a brother of mine (luckey I have 3) into active uncle action, which constitutes being a Sharpa, more or less.
We than embark upon hunting down a beach which is not too windy -as the babies eye is poorly,
as well as contains an agreeable fellow, of roughly the same age and temperament, a play mate friend for my son,
and where we must locate and elbow about for a spot which constitutes both sun (for drying the children after exiting sea) and shade, so baby skin does not burn,
as well as potentional muses, decent enough beach reclined people, for my to paint.
( By this time, by the time i tick all the boxes, i am nearly always about to loose my sharpa- brother, who looses patience and prefers lonelier pastures.
Having persuaded brother sharpa to stay, and son to get undressed, I equip the son with a blow up wheel, swimming trunks, sun cream, toys- and add him into the water with his firend.
Subsequentley I get the baby naked, creamed up, swimming in her set of blow up equipment, happy wet and eventually and tired enough for her to resign to sleepyness, but by no means a wish to sleep alone and in the pram.
At this point, I give the baby to uncle to fester in being uncle, and hop up and down, geting Floriana to sleep.
Than whilst orchestrating the feeding, drying dressing, overseeing.
I paint, for my exhibition , right there on the beach.
as well as contains an agreeable fellow, of roughly the same age and temperament, a play mate friend for my son,
and where we must locate and elbow about for a spot which constitutes both sun (for drying the children after exiting sea) and shade, so baby skin does not burn,
as well as potentional muses, decent enough beach reclined people, for my to paint.
( By this time, by the time i tick all the boxes, i am nearly always about to loose my sharpa- brother, who looses patience and prefers lonelier pastures.
Having persuaded brother sharpa to stay, and son to get undressed, I equip the son with a blow up wheel, swimming trunks, sun cream, toys- and add him into the water with his firend.
Subsequentley I get the baby naked, creamed up, swimming in her set of blow up equipment, happy wet and eventually and tired enough for her to resign to sleepyness, but by no means a wish to sleep alone and in the pram.
At this point, I give the baby to uncle to fester in being uncle, and hop up and down, geting Floriana to sleep.
Than whilst orchestrating the feeding, drying dressing, overseeing.
I paint, for my exhibition , right there on the beach.
