Ben (husband, father) is a beach person. He's the real deal. Born and raised (more or less) upon the shores of Dee Why along Sydney's northern beaches, he swam like a champion, learned to surf and worshipped the sun, salty air and long summer days. His early years were spent cramped into a three bedroom flat a couple of streets back from the beach with his three younger sisters and young parents, the beach was the only playground he knew.
It was at twelve years old that after a series of unfortunate events, his parents moved the family south to Victoria to be closer to his grandparents where they could afford more space for their four busy young children. The endless stretches of asphalt that was the outer suburbs of Melbourne were heart breaking to my husband, a pre-teen who just didn't understand why the move even happened. He felt disenfranchised, to say the least. He vowed then that he would return to the beach, one day, somehow when he was grown and could decide for himself. At age 23, his job offered a transfer to Sydney, this was his chance, he'd waited patiently for this time. With boyish enthusiasm he packed his things and moved back to Dee Why- the place of his daydreams.
Fast forward four years and Ben met me. His future wife and mother of his beloved daughter. I'm a harbour girl- eastern suburbs born and bred and to me, considering a move to the northern beaches was akin to packing my bags and relocating my life to the Middle East. (Not really).
The northern beaches are to Sydney what Brooklyn is to Manhattan, it has great charm and an amazing lifestyle but it's kind of far away.
I'll make it sound simple here but know that it wasn't, he moved! I knew he would! First to the inner city but he would never be happy there - after two years we decided to make the move together to Bronte, a beautiful beach in the Eastern Suburbs- a compromise.
It was while living here that we became engaged, that we were married, that we took our three week honeymoon in Italy and it was here, having been home three days from that honeymoon, that we learned we were expecting a baby. A shock but the most amazing and loved and wanted and adored shock of my life.
Annalise was born here in Bronte - almost - at the hospital a couple of suburbs away but she's a beach girl- just like her dad. Except, she hates the sand. She won't crawl beyond the towel and if there are any errant grains upon her towel, her precious hands simply Will. Not. Touch it. She'll scoot around bouncing on her bum as a means of transport to avoid contact. We take her to the shore line with great anticipation but she trembles and shakes and lifts her little feet up refusing to touch them to the water below...
We sit her down carefully and she grimaces as the water touches her skin. Maybe it's too cold? Maybe the kids splashing and wading nearby are too loud, maybe she's just not a beach girl.
It's December now, just the beginning of Summer so we'll persevere. She'll love it soon, honey.
To be continued.
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