“Why don’t you just go to the beach?” asked my good friend, Osco.
Being from the midwest, it often escapes me that I can just go to the beach. It was 3 p.m. on a Friday, and I was in the mood to get in the water. In a moment, I ran home, put on my swimming bits and pieces, grabbed towels and suits for the boys and grabbed them from camp. I figured an hour or so at the beach would be enough.
My past behavior started suggesting that this would end badly (see post, Workin’ at the Carwash), but I decided to let contrary action prevail. Man, am I ever grateful that I did. We let the waves crash into us, trying to guess which ones would be strong and which would be weak. Big One loves to go in further and further, jumping into the waves, while Little Guy holds my hand and we try to challenge it to knock us down. When they had enough, they went to bury each other in the sand.
I saw their laughter, their joy, and took a moment to really enjoy being their mom. A moment to really enjoy the waves, the beauty of the ocean. And I acknowledge that it’s really a blessing that I get to live like this. I will try and remember this when they start driving me nuts. Like now… as I write this post.