It's a....

I mentioned in my last blog that prior to finding out I was pregnant, that I had a dream that I was pregnant and it was a boy. Upon finding out I was pregnant, I just KNEW the whole time that this little thing growing I my tummy was a little dude.

From the get go, I felt pretty good overall. Throughout the day I didn't have much of an appetite, but I wasn't sick. I could stomach a few things (applesauce, Cheerios, tortilla chips) but really, that was all I wanted. I lost nearly ten pounds in the beginning of my pregnancy just because I really wasn't hungry. My evenings were a different story. It was like my body knew I was on my way home from school, and when it was I started feeling like poo. Every day I would come home to my couch nest and just crash. I'd be exhausted, and I usually was just super nauseous. I can't tell you how many times I told Jack just to go get Zaxbys- it was all I could stomach for dinner. You can see I looked trim and tone at the start! The only thing big was my boobs. Ohhh pregnancy boobs.

Come to find out, my sister Carly actually craved Zaxbys. This confirmed even more what I suspected- BOY! I even began calling the baby by the boy name we had picked out and referred to the baby as "he" or "him." Jack did NOT like this because he's been Team Girl from day one! Other things that confirmed my suspicions were that I only craved salty foods! (And still do- hence I've had onion rings for breakfast the past two days!) Believe it or not, a whole bag of Hershey kisses sat in my desk drawer for three months without being touched. I KNOW. And even then I gave them away to students. I craved vegetables, pickles, French fries- salt salt salt! I also craved some sour things- sweettarts and sour punch straws. (Carly also craved those with Jonah!) My skin was beautiful! Glowing! Never looked better! My hair was lush, shiny, and full of body. My newly appearing bump was forming low. Even the pencil test performed early on indicated boy. I literally convinced myself and everyone it was a sweet little boy!

The first weekend in March I was just over 15 weeks pregnant. My family and Jack's family came in to town so that we could all go to the ultrasound place together and find out if my suspicions were in fact correct. A couple of days prior to this though, I started to have my doubts. I even texted my mom and told her of these doubts.

The morning of March 5 we went to Nashville 3D/4D Baby Ultrasounds. This place was fantastic and I highly recommend them to my local Tennessee friends! The room was huge with a couple of couches and plenty of room for everyone. The screen was up on a huge wall, so there were no straining eyes or necks to get a glimpse of Baby. Finally, the moment of truth was HERE. I have no clue how people wait to find out the gender of their baby. I am a planner. I like to have a game plan. I HAVE TO BE PREPARED! Literally, the very second the ultrasound popped up on the wall, I knew.

I have done extensive research on the skull and nub theory, and the moment I saw the perfectlly rounded head shape I knew what my baby was. It took a second for the ultrasound technician to show everyone the sex, as the cord was between the baby's legs. But a little wiggling and finagling revealed to us our sweet Baby Sadie Reese. We were all thrilled! Seeing the happiness on Jack's face was like no other happy moment I've had in my life. It was such a special moment for us as husband and wife.

Up until this moment I really had not felt this huge, overwhelming bond with my baby. I know it sounds strange and even mean, but really I had only got to see the baby one other time. Then, the baby didn't even look like anything close to human. And we had only heard the heartbeat once at that point. But that day, seeing MY baby, OUR baby, OUR GIRL up on the monitor- I lost it. I literally wept the rest of the ultrasound. I cried so much I got a terrible nosebleed right after. The rest of the day I would tear up or cry at the words "she", "her", "girl", and "Sadie." I was SO emotional. I was super excited to be having a girl, because truly I had no preference but for a healthy baby. However, I felt somewhat grieved because I almost felt as though I "lost" my boy. I know that's strange and most probably won't get that, but I know surely someone out there will! In several pictures from that day I kind of just have this stunned look on my face. I promise promise PROMISE I was happy. :)

That night when everyone was in bed and the excitement of the day was winding down, Jack and I fell into one another's arm and just cried for nearly an hour. Like ugly, had to change the pillow case, nose blowing cry. But it was awesome. Never in my life have I felt closer to someone, and NEVER have I loved another person more. Our sweet, sweet Sadie Reese is the light of our lives and is loved beyond words. Thank you Lord, for this sweet blessing upon us!

How We Found Out We Were Pregnant!

It's been months since we have written a blog, and I'm almost ashamed of myself for letting it go this far! I've been dying to write about our experience of finding out we were pregnant! Here's how it went down:

This past December was probably the most favorite month of my entire life. I had a dream on December 14th that my Aunt Elaine (the foot doctor lady! Haha) walked up to me at church and smelled of my stomach and excitedly exclaimed "You're pregnant!" Yes. Trust me. I know how weird that sounds. VERY! But I woke up that morning rattled, excited, and terrified. I immediately told Jack what I had dreamed and he brushed it off I think. (When you spend $30-50 a month on pregnancy tests....) So I told him I was going to buy a test that morning before work. Surprisingly, we were out except for one digital, but for anyone who has ever tried getting pregnant, you know those digital tests are golden and they are saved.

That morning I stopped at Walmart on my way to school. I immediately started to cry when I got to the pregnancy test section- all their tests were in a lock box! It was already 7:15am and you ALL know how fun it is trying to get help at Walmart on any given day, much less that early in the morning. I left fuming mad and resolved to go after school to the Dollar Tree for some cheapos. Plus, when you live in a small town like us, you have to be VERY careful where you shop for personal things- we have kiddos EVERYWHERE. I stopped by Dollar Tree on my way home. Y'all. Dollar Tree the week before Christmas is the LAST PLACE ON EARTH I will ever be, ever EVER again. Parking lot was full. Some lady cut me off and took the last spot and then cussed at ME for trying to take it from her. I ended up just leaving the parking lot in a heaping, crying mess. (Should have been my first sign- I rarely cry!)  I called Jack and told him I was never going to get to take a test. He promised we would go to the local Walmart that night (late, of course) and get some. And we did. I bought 4 of them. (Hey, you can never be too sure!)

My bubble was quickly burst when he took the tests from me and said "but you're not taking them until the morning." Hmmmph. Fine. The next morning I woke up excited. I did my thing and dropped the sample in the little window. Literally within seconds, I saw two lines. I thought "This thing is wrong." I'd just had a cycle two weeks prior. I wasn't late. I wasn't having ANY symptoms. I had NO reason to test, other than the dream. As I stood there and stared, the lines got darker and darker. Jack was ironing our clothes, and I ran out the bathroom yelling his name. "DO YOU SEE THIS THERE ARE TWO RIGHT I AM NOT CRAZY?!" He took one look, cracked the cutest, sweetest smile and said "Yep. Definitely two." He scooped me up into a huge hug and we both cried like babies for a good minute. It was great, and was a very special moment for both of us. I'm pretty sure I shook and had a goofy grin on my face the rest of the day. I ended up breaking out the digital test I had- Positive. I even stopped at a local Walgreen's and got one of the week estimator tests that tells you how far along you are based on the hormone levels- Positive: 4-5 weeks along. (The 2-3 you see in the picture just means the number of weeks after ovulation.)

How cool to find out a week before Christmas?! We went and bought both our parents a little onsie outfit that said "I Love Grandma & Grandpa" and wrapped them up. We put them with the other presents and on our way we went to Georgia for Christmas. I know I shook the entire way home! I was SO nervous I was nearly sick! We FINALLY told my parents after a Christmas get together. My mom cried, and my dad was super excited. It was a sweet moment! Telling the rest of the family was fun! We told them all the next day and got it on video. It. Was. Hilarious. Everyone was so excited! The next day I had my first food aversion- Sonic cheese sticks. My mom and I stopped to get some while shopping in Commerce, and I nearly puked the whole way home just smelling them. I couldn't even look at them. I am STILL not a big cheese fan! My first craving was salad from the hibatchi restaurants. Ginger dressing. Mmmmm.

We told Jack's parents a week later at their house. His dad was too funny. I swear he stared at me all afternoon and kept saying "You ok? This is really cool! You need anything? You hungry? This is so neat. Feel alright? Can I get you something? I just can't believe this." It was so precious. Now I know where Jack gets it from!

Our first doctor's appointment was on December 28th. I was actually scheduled for an annual checkup and meeting to discuss fertility options that day. However, they were very surprised to find I was already pregnant. A quick ultrasound revealed our little squirt was measuring at almost 6 weeks. Surprisingly, I didn't get emotional. I was OVER THE MOON happy, but I didn't cry! I kind of surprised myself.

I got a journal for Christmas from my mom, and I've been periodically writing letters to baby in it. I DO get emotional writing though. When she gave me my own journal, she also gave me the journal she kept while pregnant with me! It was so sweet to read the stuff she wrote to me and about me. I LOVE it! I hope my baby loves my journal as much as I love that one. So there's our (long) story about how we found out about little Baby Fullerton- due August 24th- my parent's wedding anniversary!

Make a difference

I love to teach. I love being a teacher.  I love how I get the chance every day to influence young minds. This can also weigh heavy when I know that I care more about a child's future than they do. I am an old fart. I've been chewed up and spat out by the real world. These young, immature, know-it-all minds have no idea what is about to slap them in the face. 

I have known that I would be getting an observation for a week or so. With all the testing that is going on, it has been a nightmare trying to schedule it. I obviously want my observation, that dictates how good of a teacher I am, to be done during one of my better classes. Teachers know exactly what I am talking about!

After having an awful day, I felt defeated. I knew that my observation wasn't going to go well and that I was going to have to suffer the consequences. Thanks to my amazing wife, we hammered out a great lesson that I know would have gotten me top scores!  Unfortunately, I will never know how well I could have been scored on that lesson. You see, during that awful day, we had a faculty meeting in which some sensitive topics were discussed; multicultural diversity, racism, and stereotypes. Things that can cause an uproar quickly if not handled with delicacy. It weighed on me hard. I'm not sure why it did, but it did.

I woke up the day of my observation and I told my wife, "I think I am going to talk about multicultural diversity today during my observation." Without skipping a beat, "I wouldn't do that" she said.  Generally, when it comes to education, my wife is on her A-game and she TOTALLY knows what she is talking about. She can help me with anything I throw at her in regards to assignments, students, rules, consequences, you name it.  However, I am a teacher. It is my job to prepare students for the next chapter in their life. I am realistic, not all my students will go to college.  Some of my students may drop out of school. Either way, if I don't talk to them about sensitive subjects, who will?  Who will educate them on diversity?  Who will educate them on what education really is?  I am not saying that it is my way or the highway, I just want my students to be informed about whatever the topic is and to not just jump to conclusions.

So I did just that, taught a lesson about diversity, racism, and stereotypes. I didn't mention one thing about Geometry other than to apologize to my principal, who was doing my observation, that she would not be seeing me teach math today.  IT....WAS....GREAT!  The students were engaged.  They were giving great feedback.  You could see them really thinking about the rhetorical questions I posed to them about these sensitive topics. 

Now the suspense. When will my post conference be?  What will my evaluation be like?  Will I get 1's and 2's (top marks are 5's) because I didn't teach my subject?  Most teachers would have an anxiety attack if they were in my shoes. But let's be honest, most teachers wouldn't have done what I did. They would have just taught the lesson they knew they would score great on. Not me. Not this guy. I like to push things to the limit. I like to see what young minds think and/or know. I like to make them think in ways they haven't thought. 

What will the scores on my evaluation be?  I don't know and I'm not sure I care. I teach my students about choices.  I made a choice to do what I did and I will accept whatever happens because of my choice. Here is what I know and what I care about. I know that I was a TEACHER today. I taught something that those kids will think about the rest of their lives. I taught those kids something they will need to know about the rest of their lives. Those kids were engaged and we had a very respectful conversation about a topic that a lot of people are afraid to talk about.  I will accept whatever scores I get because I know that it doesn't define me as a teacher. It doesn't define what kind of relationship I have with my students. And it certainly doesn't define the ultimate intention that I had when I became a teacher, to produce citizens that are respectful and genuinely good people that will help others when the time arises. 

I know I was placed in my new school for a reason. Not sure what that reason is. It may have been to deliver the message that I did today. I will never know. But I do know that I trust Him to get me wherever it is He wants me to go. 

Big Break?

Anyone else call their mama and tell her everything? If you nodded or agreed in any way, just know that I do too. I call my mom every single day. She's my friend, which is a right I've earned now that I am an adult. However, something happened over the last couple of days that I kept just between me and Jack. Sorry, mom. She is going to be reading about this for the first time here with all of you.

So it's no secret that I am searching and praying for God's direction in my life. We've been seeking him daily for a sign or an answered prayer as to just what that calling is. I've felt torn, confused, and overwhelmed lately because I feel like I'm supposed to be doing something for God, but I feel like I'm grasping for straws as I try to get what that is.

I saw an ad on a website for "Female Singer" in the little town of Pigeon Forge. It was on a gospel site so I knew it probably was related to gospel music. I'm going to refrain from naming the place of business and the website I found the information on, however, for legal reasons. I immediately sent a headshot, song demo, and my resume and cover letter in a brief email to the guy listed as the contact person. Meh. Let's see where this goes.

I got an email back informing me that this place was closed for the week, but that he'd get back with me on Friday. Meh. Ok.

Saturday afternoon, the aforementioned contact man called me. I missed his call initially, but returned it as soon as I got his message. He wanted me to come in for a live audition. They loved my demo, thought I was beautiful and just had to see me ASAP.. Could I come tomorrow (Sunday)? Umm... Sure.  I needed a track to sing with. (Wait, people still use those!?) I needed a good stage outfit. (Sparkles? All black? #innerbeyonce) Jack and I were up until midnight finding just the right song and the perfect outfit. Muchos gracias to Morgan Easter for her help. Love the Easter Family!

Sunday morning we struck off for Pigeon Forge after dropping off Cam at his mom's.  I seriously thought I was going to throw up the whole way there. Forget butterflies. I had hornets in my stomach. It literally HURT from being so nervous. I've never done anything like this before. An audition!? My sisters are the singers, not me. What. Am. I. Doing.

Precious Jack talked me out of jumping out of the car a few times. Haha, he was probably really fed up with me. Anyhow, audition time came. I sang. On a big stage. By myself. Then I had to sing and harmonize with the other singers, which was easier for me. I'm used to blending in, not standing out. Oh, did I mention they asked me to sing and OPEN the show? Because they did. And I did. I sang in front of an audience at a legit show. Who am I and WHERE IS KAYLA!? Jack said I did well.

And guess what? They offered me the job. Incredible pay. Several perks. A contract! What!?  Exciting!

But...

I didn't take it. I turned their offer down. We could have moved to PF and been so much closer to Jack's parents and closer to my family. We could have made decent money. I could be ministering through song to people as a CAREER. But I said no.

As we watched the show, it was obvious everyone in the room was already a Christian. They'd already accepted Christ or they already are aware of him and salvation. It was a GREAT and POWERFUL show, but it was just that... A show. I spent five plus years watching those "shows" where it's someone's job to perform. If I am going to serve God, I want it to be in a capacity where it is real, and where people know it isn't a show. This is not for me. It was for my ex, and it's the career of many, many people in the Gospel Music Industry, but it is NOT for me.

In Matthew 9:12-13, Jesus is talking to  spiritual leaders and states  "...It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I desire mercy, not sacrifice. For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." Talk about a sign. For someone, the job I turned down is going to be perfect. But for me, why would I want to minister from a stage to a room full of saved people when there is a lost and dying world right outside my door?

We've both felt lately that God is wanting us to help people.  We have felt super compassionate towards those who are less fortunate than us. I am not trying to brag and say "oh look at me helping people!" No! I am telling you moments that have touched and changed my heart. For example, we helped a homeless guy in Vegas this summer. We were walking along a bridge looking to give our leftover dinner to someone, however, how do you decide which of the ten homeless people to give it to? As I looked around, I noticed a homeless man with a small pizza that someone had given him. He was SHARING IT with another homesless man next to him. It hit my heart like a hammer. Wow. He GETS it.  I've found myself pulling over for people on the side of the road. I feel LED to do that. I know it's dangerous, but if I feel God leading me, I want to follow! We gave a needy man breakfast yesterday morning on our way to PF. I don't care if he does drugs or is a raging alcoholic. I don't care if he is unemployed, cusses, or smokes. I want to love people. Like Jesus did.  So while I may have turned down an AWEOSME job, I feel like in my heart I did the right thing. Even if that audition itself was what led me to grab Dusty some breakfast, a handshake, and some hope.

To follow Jesus means we love what Jesus loves.

Fussy Friday

So I've been seeing this post going around Facebook and Yahoo News about the couple who had the amicable, almost seemingly pleasant divorce. I read the articles about it and wished, oh how I wished, that more people were like this. I know my divorce was U-G-L-Y. It just was. And we didn't have children, thank goodness, or it could have potentially been a complete nightmare. I've been witness to the ugliness that divorcing with children can cause- it's happened to several members of my family and my friends. It's happened to my husband. Some people can be so nasty.

I know several months ago I posted a blog titled about being a Stepmomster and got some great responses and support from my friends and family. I can say here and now that it hasn't gotten any easier. It is a challenge that we work through every day, and I have a feeling it will be something we work at for many, many years to come.

Camden is a growing little dude. He's getting so big... and even more so independent! He is super clingy too, but to his dad. Rarely does he want to cuddle with just me. We both love to cuddle with daddy, so it's usually a person on each of his arms. I still feel at times that he resents me for "taking" his daddy- from certain looks he gives me to even ignoring me altogether sometimes. I hope he knows one day that I ONLY want what is best for him, and for his daddy, and that I love him so much. No one ever (I think) plans on just inheriting someone else's children before having any of their own. I didn't just get the man, I got the family. But it's not easy. I'm not his mother. Part of me tries to avoid "mothering" him, because he already has been beautifully mothered. It hurts. Who wants to be a "mom" and not "mother" a child? 

*SIDENOTE* And yes, I said MOM. The more I hear the word "Stepmom" the more I CRINGE. Like, where does that word even come from anyways?  I've researched a little, but couldn't find any good explanation of where the prefix "step" comes from in regards to being a stepparent and why it is used.

Sometimes, I wish he would cry for me. Sometimes, I wish he would run to me and hug me when he sees me. It's so hard to explain this longing to people. Especially my husband. Lord love him. He's the best! Sometimes though, I feel like no one understands how it feels to be in my position and to be sitting on the "Who Can Be the Better Parent" sidelines, or sometimes the referee. I couldn't do what my husband does, which makes me even more thankful that I don't share a child with my ex-husband. It hurts me to see Jack hurting and longing for his son. Y'all. I can't even deal sometimes. 

Anyhow, until we have a child, I just think how I know of one child who makes me feel especially loved, wanted, and needed. Oh my sweet Ryleebug! Since she was a little booger, she has loved me- a lot! I made a special place in my heart and my birthday for that precious child. She still tells people "I was KayKay's best birthday present ever!" And boy, is she right. On trips home, she still runs to my arms and gives me the biggest hugs and kisses. She is like me in many ways- sassy, bossy, and flipping hilarious. But she is especially like me when it's time for us to leave to come home to Nashville. Sometimes, she feigns illness or injury so that I'll hold her just a moment longer. For example, at our wedding shower, she got her hand "hit" as in it was brushed lightly. But you'd have thought it had been cut off from the amount of anguish and tears that child produced. She climbed up in my lap and stayed parked there for at least an hour. I even had a huge wet stain on my dress from her tears. Sometimes she will cling to me like that, but other times she will distance herself from me in those last moments, and often refuses to tell me bye. Sometimes Bug, that's easier for me too. I'm tearing up now just thinking of the times we have said goodbye to each other, and it always ends in tears. I ate lunch with her one day a couple of years ago, and when it was time for her to go back to class, she lost it. I lost it. We were both big, blubbering babies there in the hallway at Mossy Creek Elementary. I am pretty sure I had to sit in my car for fifteen minutes so that I could gain composure to even drive myself home. That child means the world to me, and I am so thankful that Tara and Ryan brought that beautiful Angel into this world for me to love on.

So this was kind of a rambling and random blog, but sometimes you just have to take a mental dump and clean out the mind! I have so much more I could say, but won't. Right now at least. Everyone have a safe, happy Labor Day weekend!

For.

"For or against?" she said.

The look on my face was probably a mixture of confusion, surprise, shock, disgust, and anger all rolled into one.

"FOR." I said firmly.

My mind was racing, and all I wanted to do was reach across the counter and slap the fire out of the Walmart cashier who just rang up my five pack of digital pregnancy tests. On my way home, I prepared a speech for her, since I was too angry to speak at the moment I had my chance. Here goes.

You really asked me if I am for or against being pregnant? Excuse me while me and all the other mothers out there trying to conceive bring our army to stare you down with an evil, unimpressed glare. I am for life. I am for having a baby and a family with my husband, whom I love with my whole heart. I am for the precious look he had on his face this morning when he saw the pregnancy test wrapper on the counter and excitedly asked "where is it?!" I am for his gentle, comforting words and kisses when he read the window boasting "Not Pregnant."

I am for the mothers who take care of their babies as they should. I am for the grandmothers, aunts, and relatives who take care of the babies whose mothers can't or just won't. I am for fathers who love their children, even if they don't get to see them near as much as they'd prefer.

I am for spit up, dirty diapers, and no sleep. I am for potentially going a couple of days without a shower just to make sure that my baby is cared for and his or her needs may be met. I am for all nighters when I will probably not sleep a wink just so that I can watch my sweet baby breathing and smell that intoxicating scent that only a baby can produce.

So to answer your question, I am FOR. Even if it was unintentional, I would still be FOR. I will always be FOR.

Dos and Don'ts of Camping at the Beach

Let me start by saying I am clearly no camping expert. My husband kind of is though, and I probably would not have ever done this had it not been for having him. We had some laughs, some eye rolls, some snark and some snips during our trip (what couple doesn't!?) but we had a BLAST. And little Dax had fun too. He is definitely a beach dog and loved every single second of burying his whole head in the sand. He will probably be sneezing sand for a week.

We camped at a campground in Panama City Beach called Camper's Inn. It was a cute little place and had anything we needed- bathhouses, pool, laundry, even a convenience store on site. I will say the only two downsides were that it's right next to one of those slingshot rides, so we heard screaming quite late through the night. The other downside is that it was right across the road behind Club La Vela. (LOL)  We got to hear lots of bumping music through the day and night!

I decided to make a list of Dos and Don'ts of Camping at the Beach when the folks who camped next to us (Hi Danielle and Cody!) had never heard of the baby powder trick. (More on that later.)  Also, I wanted to make a list just so we remember next time we go, because we are DEFINITELY going back!

The List:

1. DO take lots of bug spray. The good old-fashioned-full-of-deet kind. Bugs are everywhere. Citronella candles help too. DON'T try those Pinterest tricks for keeping Mosquitos away. Dryer sheets, baby oil, etc.  Seriously. I'll take my chances with the deet chemicals as opposed to quarter-sized bug bites on my body and West Nile.

2. DO take a pair of rubber boots, tennis shoes- SOMETHING that covers your whole foot so that you can walk around the campsite and not have sand up to your eyeballs. DON'T wear and take only flip flops. (I'm looking at you, mirror.) You get the dreaded spray of sand up your calves and then  you have to wash it off, etc. So. Much. Sand.

3. Speaking of sand, DO take the biggest bottle of baby powder you can find! Put it on any area of your body that has sand on it and literally the sand falls right off. We kept ours next to the door by our tent and it worked perfectly at keeping our tent and sheets sand free. DON'T take a little tub or basin to wash your feet off in. It is useless at getting your feet 100% sand free. Baby powder smells good too!

4. DO take a shower just before you're ready to crawl in bed. It is so refreshing to wash away all the bug spray, sunscreen, and sandy butt crack (y'all know it's true) just before you fall asleep. I sleep better when I feel clean! DON'T bother taking a shower when you first get off the beach. I know it sounds gross, but you still have to put on all that bug spray, eat, sweat,  play with the pup, etc. Just wait. Trust me. I took a ginormous tub of baby wipes.

5. DON'T plan on sleeping late. It is impossible to do with the thin tent walls. You hear stuff, get blinded by sunlight and you will be warmed up as quick as the first ray of sun shines in your face. DO get up early and take advantage of sunrises and cool breezes. #worthit

6. DON'T count on your phone for a flashlight. Sure mine was helpful, but at 2am when you need shoes to go to the bathroom and they're nowhere to be found a phone light just doesn't cut the mustard. DO take Christmas lights, lanterns, etc to keep the area well lit. Tacky? Sure. Better than a pine needle stuck halfway up your toenail? Absolutely.

7.  DON'T take just one cooler. We only had one, and it had all of our food and drinks in it. Who wants to lug a half gallon of milk to the beach every time!? Not these folks. DO take multiple coolers so that you have one for the campsite and one to haul over to the beach. One big cooler and one smaller, portable cooler would have been ideal.

Other tips:
-Get a campsite closest to the bathhouse. Your bladder will thank you for the shorter trek at 2am.
-Take a sand buggy or a wagon to haul crap over to the beach.
-Take an outdoor rug to minimize the sandy feet stuff. SO glad we took ours!
-Take cool showers. The water heater was not working in our bath house but that actually turned out to be awesome. The cold showers were refreshing and didn't leave us feeling sticky.
-Take fans. All the fans.