I have a lot of hopes for Wylie. The biggest is to be happy- I feel like we can put a big check mark next to that item on the list- look at this kid? Who wouldn't be happy?!
Another is that he knows how incredibly lucky we are to live such an awesome, healthy, active life. I want him to understand that he lives a life lots of kids would drool over. But the truth is, he's clueless. He thinks everyone goes to the beach, has an amazing family, and gets to play pirate on the deck with an ocean view.... in their underpants. Not so, little dude. Not so.
I think it might be years from now, when he looks back at these pictures, that he's able to fully realize what he has/had with the generosity of fabulous grandparents (especially a Gigi who shares her beloved vacation with us). In the meantime, I'll soak it up for him.
What a pure joy to watch he and Addy play pirate, to see his fascination with sea snails (and his devilish delight in making Addy cry by shaking a cup of snails in front of her face), and to watch his determined grin as he "drove" a boat to hunt for hermit crabs. I still love hearing him tell, and re-tell his story about how he was pinched by a GIANT crab (he's not exaggerating, it was SERIOUSLY the size of a dinner plate). I might always love that story.
And because the photographer is in this memory, it's not captured by film: I got to see my dad run like the wind down the beach, chasing two giggling three-year-olds. If you know my dad, maybe you can picture walking, or hiking, or biking (or yard mowing!)... but can you picture running? Running like a kid, for the sheer fun of running?
Unlike sweet Wylie, I'm not clueless these days. Not every girl gets to see their parents as amazing, vibrant grandparents. I know that.
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