We took the boys to the beach last week for the first time. We’d walked along the shore with them in their Baby Bjorns many times, but this was the first time they played in the sand. Benjamin had a blast – crawling here, crawling there, and for the most part not putting shells, twigs, and seagull poop in his mouth.

Jonah wasn’t crazy about the texture of the sand (could it be just a bit finer and whiter, please), but did okay sitting on a towel under the umbrella. At one point, I picked him up and started walking towards the water and you would’ve thought we were headed to Mt. Doom. He panicked, went stiff, and tried to crawl up onto my head. Seems the crash of the (very small) waves were too much for the sensitive Jonah-ears. Nothing I could say or do calmed him much – even back on the towel where he could still hear the (very faint) roar of the waves.

A couple of days later we went to the beach again and I tried a different tactic. Jonah loves music of any kind (CDs, humming, music boxes, electronic keyboards, etc.). “Music” was his fourth word – and he understood it’s meaning long before he could speak the word. (well, it’s his own special word that sounds nothing like the English word for music, but has the same meaning)

He had decided he liked the sand after all and was letting it fall through his fingers - still on the towel. I sat beside him and began to talk about the noise the water makes as it hits the shore.

“It’s Ocean Music, Jonah... it’s a special type of music the waves make when they reach the sand. Music, Jonah, Ocean Music.”

He was paying close attention. I must’ve used the word “music” a hundred times as we slowly inched our way towards the water. He was snuggled up close to me, but relaxed.

We talked about the Ocean Music the next couple of days until we went back to the beach. This time he was fine...crawling around in the sand and up onto the beach chair where he sat and contentedly surveyed the scene.

....the distraction technique must be in the genes – read on....

After the boys finished their dinner the other night I cleaned up Benjamin then put him on the playmat next to the toy bin. Then I cleaned up Jonah and him down a few feet away from Benjamin.

Jonah began eyeing the toy in Benjamin’s hand. Benjamin noticed.

Jonah prepared to pounce (he is a well-known toy-stealer in these parts). Benjamin quickly grabbed another toy from the bin and thrust it between Jonah and himself in a strategic defensive move.

Jonah accepted the offer. Briefly. Then he flung away the bait with disdain (he is also famous for his disdainful tossing). He moved in for the kill. Not to be outmaneuvered, Benjamin grabbed yet another toy from the bin and presented it to Jonah.

Jonah refused. Only Benjamin’s toy would do. He grabbed it, Benjamin started whining while Jonah inspected it for a minute, then flung it aside and was off looking for something else.

I see this happening for, oh, the next decade or two.

* * *

Now here’s my kind of twins comment, said to me at the post office by a man, no less: “I hope your husband appreciates you!”

Hear, hear! Well-said! Encore, encore!

Hahaha!