While there is nothing quite as relaxing as sitting under a blazing sun and feeling the warmth of the sun's rays slowly heat my skin to the boiling point while listening to the waves wash upon the shore, there's something about watching an angry sea brimming with wild whitecaps that brings an inexplainable feeling of peace and calm over me. Maybe its because the ocean is showing off her strength and power and as if in a duel and knowing I am not an even contender, I have no other choice but to surrender and let go. I spent a small part of every day of my pregnancy sitting and watching the waves pound threateningly onto the sand in a fit of rage as the wind danced all around me enlisting my hair as his partner. The ocean is my meditation, my therapy, my "me time", my peace. Although I'd love for H to know the softer side of the ocean where he can strip down and wade in without any fear, I hope that rougher seas brings him the peace that they bring me.
Further south, in a much calmer and warmer setting than what san francisco has to offer, we strolled along the water, introducing H to a place we love. H finally fit into his surfer shoes, miniature versions of daddy's, that we've been attempting to put on his feet since day one. And I couldn't resist this gorgeous knitted hoodie, despite the fact that the elbow patches are currently forearm patches. I just couldn't wait a minute longer for him to actually fit into it.