Getting Away

I often don't realize how nasty (for lack of a better word) the emotional climate of our home can become. It's largely due to me, and the difficulty that I've had in dealing with this situation. It's no secret...I hate all of this. Alas, not every day can be a terrible one, so on Labor Day we packed up the car and headed for the beach. I don't think any of us realized how desperately we needed to leave the house, to leave our misery behind. I sat upon the beach, bundled up (it was freezing), listening to our babies squeal with delight. I felt peace. I was able to sit and write, to work on a project that will take our business somewhere amazing...but more on that in a few months. 

Last year, Ava wanted to nothing to do with the water. She sat in a chair, or in my arms, and scowled at the ocean for 8 hours. This year, our girl explored....but just a little bit. She is lovely, and mysterious, and sensible, and outrageous all rolled into one tiny three year old. Sometimes....I wish I was her. 

(A wave tumbled my little boy within minutes of arriving, not a happy moment, but he recovered)