Chasing Horses

About 38 days ago my daughter decided that horses were the end all be all of human existence.
(39 days ago she was all about dogs)
And that if she didn't see one in real life she would lay down on the floor and just die.

Being her mother I felt a certain amount of responsibility to ensure that didn't happen
(plus, the drama was giving me a headache)
so, we drove her down the beach to where the horses are available for hour-long riding rentals.

We found them walking up the beach.  We stopped, got out of the truck and stood on the sand to watch them walk by while she jumped up and down, squealing that her dream was finally coming true.

Then we got back in the truck, drove farther up the beach, stopped, got out, and watched them again.

(For the record, I don't know any of these people.)

(I know her, though.)
(Redheads Rule)

The mistake we made, of course, was not prepping her ahead of time for the fact that we were not planning to actually ride the horses.
(because window shopping is just as fun)
(yes it is)
(except the opposite)

And although she didn't actually die, she did cry,
and pout,
and sulk,
and do the Charlie Brown walk back to the truck.

Like any good mother, I tried to console her by showing her all the pictures I'd taken.

"Great."

I'm not sure she mean that, though, because as she got back into the truck I heard her scoff that we only cared about ourselves, and never wanted her to have any fun.

We'll be expecting the therapy bill in about 27 years.

Project 52 ~ Wk. 28 {With More Time}

 Time.

 

Time is a funny thing.
Especially when it walks into a glass door and falls down.
Although, I may be thinking of last week's theme.

What I mean to say is that time is one of those things I always think I have enough of, but just when I feel like I could really use more, I'm out.
Like toilet paper.
On the other hand, that might really take this conversation in a direction that none of us is prepared to go.

How about this-

Time is like wine.
You can savor it slowly and enjoy the experience that it's bringing.
You can rush through it, not paying much attention because all you're really after is more of it.
(I mean, come on.  Who are we kidding?)
You can just keep pouring glass after glass after glass until the entire bottle is gone and you find yourself doing a Woo-Hoo cheer for the Class of 2014 and calling everyone Babylove.
Or as I like to call it, the 4th of July.
(wait.  what?)
(never mind)

My point is that I don't need more time.
I have plenty of time.  Pah-lenty.
I have a whole 24 hours every single day to accomplish everything that I need.
I read once that you should never complain about not having enough time because we have the same number of hours in the day that were given to Helen Keller, Louie Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and Albert Einstein.

But what did they all have that I don't?
(besides scientific genius and artistic vision)
(thanks for that, though)
(nice)

They had a desk without a computer.
They had a kitchen without a computer.
They had a phone without a computer.
(if we're being honest, though, I have a flip-phone with no internet service, so that may not really count)
(2003 rules!)

See, I don't need more time.  What I need are fewer distractions.
Fewer dings.
Fewer 'like's.
Fewer clicks and virtual connections.
I don't need to be constantly checking in to see who commented,
or replied,
or sent something,
or posted something,
or thought something,
or broke something,
or checked in,
or checked out,
or had a Diet Coke,
or saw a movie,
or partied,
or slept,
or rode a motorcycle,
or blew a bubble,
or went rollerblading
in a place I've never been to,
with people I don't know.
And I don't need to stop what I'm doing every 15 minutes so I can use the bathroom.
(16 oz. of water before everything you eat about kills me)
(curse that Bob Harper and his skinny rules)

I don't need more time.
I need to stop wasting so much of it.
And maybe a nice bottle of wine.  That never hurts.
(*hiccup*)

As always, I'm lovin' you.

A Good Old-Fashioned Family Album

We usually spend Thanksgiving on the pool deck in Arizona, but this year we kept it a little closer to home.  It went something like this....

 

And it was good.....

Great Portraits Are Not As Important As Sand Scones And Jokes About Underwear

Our beach house is right on the Pacific Ocean.  And when I stand on the deck and look out I remind myself that the entire U.S. of A. is behind me.  I am right on the edge of the country.

It kind of blows my mind a little.

Then we go about a mile inland to the bay and I sit on the sand and remind myself that the entire country is now to the left of me.

Not quite as mind boggling, but still blows my doors off a bit.

I love the bay for a number of reasons:

1.  The water is not as far away from where I want to sit on the sand, so I can make sure my kids are safe without really having to look up from my book.  My peripheral vision is very good.

2.  The water pull is not as strong so I don't worry as much about my little children getting swept away out to sea by rouge waves.  That would be bad.

3.  There's a really loooooooooonnnnnnnng stretch of beach that Prince Charming can walk out in search of agates while he's thinking of me and wondering if I'm okay back on the sand by the water reading my book and yelling at the children not to get sand on my camera.

"I'm not really thinking of you."
What?
"I don't really think about you when I'm walking."
What are you thinking about then?
"Work."
Work....?  You think about work and not me?
"Nobody cares.  Move on with your story."

Fine.

Every now and then the kids run up from the water with sand on their faces and blue sky behind their heads and I'm compelled to take their picture.  I have 14,573 of these pictures.   It gets easier when you know what to look for....and you've trained them to pose on command.

Girlie comes up and I say,

"Stop right there.  No.  Don't move.  Eyes right here."

And she goes

Boom.  Done.

My son, however, feels that he's had his picture take more often since he's been alive longer and now he's pretty much done with the whole camera thing, so he doesn't look as he's running up.  He just blows right past me to the sand kitchen they've set up in dune behind me and gets working on the plate of sand scones and the sand latte I ordered up before they went down to the water.

So I have to prompt him a bit.

"Hey....Hey!...HEY!  Look over here."

Can you see the flames?  'Cause, I can see the flames.

"Try it again."

"Mom!  NO!"

"Come on.  Your sister did it in one shot.  Just come over and lay down on this log."

This is not working for me.  Forget it.  Go play.

"Thank you...."

But, I know there's a portrait in there somewhere, so I try again.  But this time I start to make jokes....

 ...and talk about underwear....

...and complain that there's a worm in my sand scone, and what kind of beach cafe is this anyway?  Serving sand scones with worms in them.  Sheesh!....

The laugh.  The teeth.  The smile.  The crinkly nose and yummy, hazel eyes just slay me every time, and I have to tackle him in the sand and smooch his whole face until he promises never to grow up ever ever ever.

I love the bay.

And P.S...

Girls rule all.

Loving you!

Let's Do 52 ~ Week 40 {Little}

They sit together,

Quietly.

Watching the water and the birds.

Searching for seals.

I see them there.  The two of them.

I know they won't be like this forever.

I know that all too soon they will be grown.

They will be gone into the big, wide expanse of the world.

To follow their own path.  Forge their own way.

Away from me and from each other and from these times.

But, I will remember this moment.

And I remember that once they were together

I will remember that once they were little.

Seen...Heard...Said {The Beach Edition}

"Ummmm, Mom....I don't really want to say this, but you don't look that pretty."

     My daughter upon seeing that I hadn't showered or put on make-up before getting in the car.

"Oh my God!  She just wet her pants!  She just wet her pants!"

     The exclamation from three drunk ladies as they watched their friend laughing hysterically while
     hobbling off the beach in an apparent need for a bathroom.

"We don't have that here, but I've got some at my house I can sell you."

     The response given to my husband after asking the merchant at the Quinault Pride Seafood Market if
     they had any salmon.  We declined.

"That pirate just threw candy in our car!"

     The excited cries from my children as we inadvertently drove through the Pacific Beach Kelpers
     and Shake Rat Festival Parade.

"Tyler!.....Tyler!......Tyler!......Tyler!......Tyler!....."

     The name shouted every 30 seconds by the family sitting behind me to a boy digging a hole in front of
     me on the sand.  Too bad his name was George.

"Happy Birthday.  You're the love of my life."

     The birthday toast given to me by my son...and then I cried.

"Oh great!  That's just great!"

     The disdain from my daughter at seeing the neighbor girl pull up after being gone all weekend, as we
     were getting in the car to head home.

"No.  It's the beach."

     The celestial answer to our ever present, Ray Liotta inspired question Is this heaven?

"Thank you.  Thank you.  I love you always!"

     The feeling I have knowing that you've taken a moment out of your day to read about a few moments
     from mine.

How Many Pictures Of A Sunset Can You Take?

We were at the beach all weekend, and the only pictures I took were of the sunset on Sunday evening.  It went a little something like this:

#1

The first picture that I took, forgetting that my camera was set to Manual because the last time I'd used it was outside and I wanted to adjust my settings, but that was like, three days earlier and by Sunday night I'd forgotten where I had it set.

#2

Flipped it to Auto and went vertical to get the funky shaped clouds.

#3

Went back to the Manual settings (which I adjusted to my liking) and turned the camera horizontally to get more of a wider image.

#4
Gave in to the Girlie who was jumping up and down to take a picture, but then she just grabbed the camera out of my hands and she started pressing buttons before I had a chance to take it off my neck .  We have 7 pictures that look just like this one.

#5

After the sun was gone.

#6

Flipped it to the Sunset setting and zoomed way in.  I don't use those pre-sets too often, but, you know, sometimes you just don't want to have to think about it. 

#7

Put the camera away, because really, who needs this many pictures of the same sunset?  But, then my beloved made me get it back out because the sky was turning all pink and rainbowy and he thought I should really get that, so I had to get it all set up again, went back on Manual and click.

#8

He made me get this one, too, when the sun was really gone and the sky was really pink and it was getting too dark to take a decent picture without my big lens, which I didn't have, and I just wanted to drink my wine and watch Iron Man already.

So, let's see.  How many is that?  47?

The answer to the question is that you can take 47 pictures of a sunset.

More, if you let your kid handle the camera.