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| 07/2006 - Great Ball of Fire |
By: By Susan Brooke Day - July 2006
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Baby Noah was a mere 9 months old when we strapped him into his carseat, buckled his sister in her booster and strapped us in for the long drive to Gulf Shores, Alabama. Hooray we were taking a break and heading for a week of family R&R at the beach!
It took me forever to pack. It’s so hard trying to remember every little thing when you travel with a baby, and it’s amazing how many little things there are to take! Pack ‘n Play with sheet and blankies, light-weight clothes (but a jacket too, just in case), wipes, diapers, swim diapers, Desitin, Vaseline, Q-tips, baby bath, lotion, soft hairbrush, rubber bulb thingy for the nose, bottles, baby food, a sippy cup, hat, swim toys, other toys, bathing suit, towel, umbrella, sunscreen ... hmmm, what SPF? I tossed in what I had all for the little boy about the size of a 25-lb turkey!
But family vacations are worth it, and we were thrilled to be on our way at last.
It was the sun that tripped me up.
Being the fair-skinned girl that I am, I am well acquainted with the sunscreen routine, but it HAD been years since I’d been to the beach. My firstborn, Alexandra, was blessed with beautiful olive-toned skin like her dad, so a little sun for her means SPF 15 and a lovely bronze tint to her skin. A little sun for me means RED. Baby Noah’s skin was like mine.
Foolishly, I was in search of a tan. To be safe though, I decided Noah and I would both wear SPF 45 on day one, which we did. That evening, while Alexandra and her Dad boasted gloriously golden hues, Noah and I looked gray. I decided 45 was too much.
Day two, careful as ever, Noah and I stayed under our umbrella unless we were splashing together at the edge of the gently lapping shoreline. We were braver and covered with SPF 30, but once again, at the end of the day, Alexandra and her Dad were an even coat of gold while Noah and I looked like the underbelly of a fish.
Envy got me good.
Day three. Noah and I stayed under the umbrella a bit, then lingered with our water play and next built a sandcastle in the sun with Noey’s bucket and shovel. We had on SPF 15 and Noah wore a white T-shirt and his little hat, too. It’s a funny thing how time flies at the beach. With a cool breeze wafting over us, we played happily for some time out there before Noah wanted to eat. I took him beneath the umbrella for mashed up veggies and fruit, then crouching, rocked him against my damp swimsuit, while watching Ally and her Dad in the water. Asleep, I set Noah belly down on the blanket next to me — still with his T-shirt on. He slept for about two hours, and I read in my chair ... in the sun.
Do you know when we returned to our room that afternoon Noah’s back was a bright scarlet red and my face looked like a lobster? That Noey’s skin had burned clear through the umbrella and T-shirt even though he had on SPF 15? Do you know what a cavalier heel I felt like?
Two more kids later (both with olive skin but both who receive generous bastings of megawatt SPFs each summer), I am a sunscreen goddess. I can use SPF 8 on my face only after three days of SPF 15. I can put SPF 15 on Noah only after three days of SPF 30 EVERYWHERE. And my olive-skinned children always wear SPF 15.
Got babies? Don’t mess around. Get to love that pink bottle of SPF 45 for the littlest ones. It went with me everywhere for a long, long time after that one fateful day in Gulf Shores. |
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