Life's a Beach.

Ormond Beach. May 2013. Day late and a dollar short, but here she is...

 

What we woke up to after a long looooooonnnnnnnngggggg drive down (it's surprising how often kids have to pee when they're in a confined space traveling at 70 mph.)

What their faces looked like when I told them it was time to "hit the beach!" They'd never seen the beach before up close and in person. Because I? I'm the best mother IN THE WORLD.

For prosperity's sake.

My most favorite picture of this child ever.

Blue Steel... or his "WHY DID YOU SPRAY SPF 5000+ IN MY HAIR??!?!" face.

Because why the Hell not.

Don't anybody move or make any sudden noises. This never EVER happens in real life.

Sun looks good on me. Smiles do too. Alcohol works wonders.

Doing laundry at 5 a.m. after a certain little person horked all over me AND the bed. Had a great view of the sun coming up from the patio... made me miss sunrises via the window of a DC-10.

Who cares that she puked her brains out? She can nap at the beach, because BY GOD, she's at the BEACH!

He never dd find the perfect shell to bring home. Next time, little buddy, next time...

I want to be able to grow these all around my house. Helps if I had a house and not an apartment.

I'd rather see these in my yard than pines any day of the week.

 

 One of the better pictures of my Mom and me.

 Lo was ready to go home, he was home sick for Daddy... Lillie and I never wanted to leave. Ever.

He changed his tune a few days later. Sighing in the bathtub, looking up at me with big puppy eyes, "Mama, I wish this was the ocean and not the bathtub."

This? Was a HUGE ASS NO NO when I was flying. Policies must have changed since then, because I've never seen a more proud kid than when the pilot scooped him up and put him in the co-pilot's seat and handed him his "first flight" wings.

This kid right here... She was all smiles and questions until the landing gear dropped. And then she was suspicious of ALL OF US. I was scared, y'all... SCARED.

All of this travel and love and light and laughter and and and... I'm not going to lie. The gypsy in me is itching to get out of this skin. To peel off these damn slacks and put my wings back on. It's also created an itch to move back to Florida... but only if we moved to Colorado afterwards. I want them to see the World. I don't want them to have to wait like I did.

I've put out some feelers. Testing the waters, so to speak ironically enough. Not even a week and I've already had one phone interview. It lasted 30 minutes, but who's counting?

Touchdown in T minus 5... 4.... 3...