Gratitude: 8
When I found out I was moving to Chicago, there was one uniform response from people: "Oh, the winters are so hard there!" I wasn't TOO worried... we had already survived the shift from sunny Davis, CA to humid/snowy Kansas City, MO.
A few other folks mentioned the museums, which I was excited about, and which have indeed proven to be fascinating (I still haven't made it to the one about surgical science).
But nobody said boo about the beach! I was invited to one of the unschoolers' beach days on the first housing foray I made with the kids, and while I couldn't stay long enough to really get the full experience, I was amazed: acres of soft-sand beach with a very gentle slope out towards blue and beautiful Lake Michigan, maybe eight lifeguards on duty constantly, free parking (though that's changed, but it's still a deal), bathrooms and a snack bar, and tons of very happy people doing nothing more than lying in the sand, visiting with their friends, and doling out goodies from their coolers to their kids.
We get to come here and just veg for hours on end once a week throughout the warmer months. We've also headed out there in the deepest winter, and it was an incredible, otherworldly place, with huge grey chunks of ice lifted out of the water at odd angles... walking on the mix of sand and snow was unforgettable.
But it's the summers that are wonderful. Even when it's crowded, there's still breathing room. Linc is a total little fish, and digging is almost as fun as the water. Lots of homeschool moms show up, and I've started bringing Merl Reagle crossword books with me to share. We also share boxes of cookies, fruit, and yesterday one very kind lady had a cooler with sherbert, ice, and pretty potent mixers, from which she concocted delicious boozy treats for the moms.
There are definitely Beach Rituals that took me a while to figure out: the cooler and chair and umbrella triumverate, and how to properly set up your umbrella sturdily in the sand, and One Treat for the kids from the wandering vendors.
Linc very often insinuates himself into a group of teens or adults playing in the water with a ball, and invariably when I come to rescue their game (that has been slowed to a crawl by my little guy), they laugh and insist on him continuing, with lots of thumbs-up and clapping and cheering for when he DOES manage to bop the volleyball back to them. He eats it up, and somehow manages to keep choosing good-natured folks to pester each week.
Even Clay joins us once in a while, which is terrific... there aren't many activities anymore that he is interested in with us. Sometimes we stop at the roadside fruit vendor on the way, and stick berries in the cooler with our sandwiches. Every once in a while, this funny old geezer with gold chains sets up his lawn chairs and a huge silver hookah in the parking lot, blaring Middle Eastern music from his car and flirting with the ladies... Hookah Man. Sometimes I bring our kites. In the spring and fall, before and after the beach is officially "open" (no lifeguards or snack bar and just portapotties), we could bring Wiley with us and let him run free... he'd bring home pounds of sand stashed in his woolly fur, but he absolutely loved it.
Foster Beach is, hands-down, the best part of moving to Chicago for me. I am so grateful it's here and that I get to enjoy it so often!
A few other folks mentioned the museums, which I was excited about, and which have indeed proven to be fascinating (I still haven't made it to the one about surgical science).
But nobody said boo about the beach! I was invited to one of the unschoolers' beach days on the first housing foray I made with the kids, and while I couldn't stay long enough to really get the full experience, I was amazed: acres of soft-sand beach with a very gentle slope out towards blue and beautiful Lake Michigan, maybe eight lifeguards on duty constantly, free parking (though that's changed, but it's still a deal), bathrooms and a snack bar, and tons of very happy people doing nothing more than lying in the sand, visiting with their friends, and doling out goodies from their coolers to their kids.
We get to come here and just veg for hours on end once a week throughout the warmer months. We've also headed out there in the deepest winter, and it was an incredible, otherworldly place, with huge grey chunks of ice lifted out of the water at odd angles... walking on the mix of sand and snow was unforgettable.
But it's the summers that are wonderful. Even when it's crowded, there's still breathing room. Linc is a total little fish, and digging is almost as fun as the water. Lots of homeschool moms show up, and I've started bringing Merl Reagle crossword books with me to share. We also share boxes of cookies, fruit, and yesterday one very kind lady had a cooler with sherbert, ice, and pretty potent mixers, from which she concocted delicious boozy treats for the moms.
There are definitely Beach Rituals that took me a while to figure out: the cooler and chair and umbrella triumverate, and how to properly set up your umbrella sturdily in the sand, and One Treat for the kids from the wandering vendors.
Linc very often insinuates himself into a group of teens or adults playing in the water with a ball, and invariably when I come to rescue their game (that has been slowed to a crawl by my little guy), they laugh and insist on him continuing, with lots of thumbs-up and clapping and cheering for when he DOES manage to bop the volleyball back to them. He eats it up, and somehow manages to keep choosing good-natured folks to pester each week.
Even Clay joins us once in a while, which is terrific... there aren't many activities anymore that he is interested in with us. Sometimes we stop at the roadside fruit vendor on the way, and stick berries in the cooler with our sandwiches. Every once in a while, this funny old geezer with gold chains sets up his lawn chairs and a huge silver hookah in the parking lot, blaring Middle Eastern music from his car and flirting with the ladies... Hookah Man. Sometimes I bring our kites. In the spring and fall, before and after the beach is officially "open" (no lifeguards or snack bar and just portapotties), we could bring Wiley with us and let him run free... he'd bring home pounds of sand stashed in his woolly fur, but he absolutely loved it.
Foster Beach is, hands-down, the best part of moving to Chicago for me. I am so grateful it's here and that I get to enjoy it so often!