Five months of Bangkok had me wound up tight. On Friday afternoon, I found out Grace's preschool was closed for a Buddhist holiday on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, so we hightailed it to the beach.
I remember beach vacations pre-kids -- spreading a towel over the lumpy sand; pulling a novel out of my backpack; reading, snuggling, and chatting while listening to the waves and feeling the breeze.
Nowadays, our three-year-old and one-year-old come along. We slather the sunscreen on thick, build sand castles, help our preschooler overcome her fear of waves, hope the toddler doesn't poop in her swim diaper, hunt for seashells, and poke a dead jellyfish (One finger! Gentle!) -- thanks, Dory and Marlin, for teaching me that the tops don't sting.
In the midst of all the work and play, play and work that is vacation with little kids, we managed to all return feeling refreshed. This is the good, hard, blessed, tiring, joyful life of raising children.
