I avoided writing about Mother's Day last week because the past few have had some headaches. A few years ago, the Wonderful Husband suggested that we make a quick beach trip a Mother's Day tradition.

By now you would think that I know how his mind works. But, no. I was too busy being blinded by what I thought was a sweet, romantic gesture to notice that the back of the car was suddenly full of saltwater fishing equipment. Leaving for the Jersey Shore on a Friday evening in early May guarantees that you won't get to the boardwalk in time to do anything but grab a quick slice of pizza for dinner before you head to your hotel, so it wasn't until very early Saturday morning that the ultimate purpose for his trip became apparent.First, the alarm went off at about 4 a.m. Then all hell broke loose as he tried to convince A and G to get out of bed to join him on a pre-dawn fishing trip. I was so deliriously tired at that point, I buried myself in the pillows to let them work it out. I failed to go deep enough under the pillows to avoid the smell of whatever bait the WH was transferring from his bait cooler to his tackle box. Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was really only minutes, of chaos, they all tramped out of the hotel room, leaving me to go back to bed.I thought "hell hath no fury" like two little boys dragged out of bed to go fishing before the crack of dawn. I was wrong. Hell really hath no fury like a toddler who is taken on a trip to the beach and wants to "GO THERE NOW!" at 5 a.m. Having managed to sleep through her brothers' tantrums and the tantalizing aroma of bait, E was now fully awake and raring to go. Convincing her that the beach didn't open till the sun came up was a losing battle and she spent the next two hours whipping the curtains open every 30 seconds to see if it was time to go yet.I finally mustered the energy to get mobilized just as the boys came back from their fishing trip. They were ready for breakfast. I had already fed E most of our snacks as a diversionary tactic and she had no interest in food at this point, so an imminent battle over where and what to eat for breakfast was brewing quickly. Sensing that his day was about to go downhill fast, the WH quickly volunteered salvation in the form of a coffee run, which conveniently got him out of the war zone. I, being coffee and sleep deprived at this point, promised the kids that they could eat whatever they wanted if we could just all get our stuff packed up and down to the beach and set up for the day. Ice cream, salt water taffy, pizza, whatever! Let's just get to the beach!As we started toting our bags, chairs, buckets, shovels, and, of course, fishing equipment down the hallway at the hotel, the kids noticed that the hotel pool was open. Ocean? What ocean? Hunger pangs and the beach forgotten, all three kids took off running for the pool, leaving me and their belongings stranded in the hallway. This actually worked out well as I quickly claimed a lounge chair, and, while the children splashed around under the supervision of the lifeguard, managed to doze off for a few minutes, which was the WH's cue to return with my giant vat of coffee and an offer to truck all the equipment to the beach himself, and round up food for the heathens.Invigorated by coffee, I managed to work up some enthusiasm for a day of sitting on the beach, relaxing and maybe even reading a book. Having settled me in, the WH disappeared with the fishing equipment, and the kids started digging a hole to China. That idyllic scene lasted for about 15 minutes.Someone had to pee. The nearest bathroom was either back at the hotel, or several blocks away at the public bathroom on the boardwalk. Of course, not everyone had to pee, and those that didn't did not want to stop playing in the sand to "go for a walk." Once again, I resorted to bribery to get everyone up and moving to the bathroom. Forty-five minutes later, we were once again settled on the beach, and 15 minutes after that, someone else had to pee. We continued the cycle for most of the rest of the day and the next. Happy Mother's Day, indeed.I laugh now, as I remember being very upset about being tricked into going on a fishing trip for Mother's Day, because this year's trip was everything it was meant to be and more. We've perfected the family rule of "when one pees, we all pee."We allowed the kids short trips without us as long as they stuck together. This meant that the boys disappeared into the comic book store for Pokémon card trading and then spent several more hours engaged with each other, trading their own cards back and forth and reviewing each other's prizes.The three of them teamed up for several trips to the tidal pools and the jetties. (FYI … I recommend fluorescent colored swim shirts for letting your kids run wild on the beach and still being able to find them at a moment's notice.)I plowed through more books in one weekend than I've read in an entire year and we all enjoyed the new Captain America movie. (Team Cap, all the way.)And, of course, the WH got a few casts in, although sadly, he didn't bring anything home but a happy, tired, sandy family.Better luck next year!Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.