a gift

It seems like each year around this time horrid winter gives me a glorious gift – a warm day.   I mean a really warm day.  A day warm enough to go to the beach.  It is always magical.  It always fills me with hope of spring.  It makes us all feel alive.  It fills us all up with life to hold on to until spring actually comes.  I know it sounds dramatic, but these days really help me pull through (I don’t like winter, and this winter is hard with no running…..and such a big belly to make me even more afraid of ice). Last Friday we had one of those gifts and the minute Hazel got out of school we grabbed some friends and raced up to Wingersheek beach in Gloucester.  The trip from the road through the slushy, muddy, dog poopy, closed in winter parking lot wasn’t so fun, but once we could see the ocean and the sand stretched out before us we all breathed in a huge warm breath of life --- and we ran.   I think my kids and I all forget how good it feels to be in a big open space, surrounded by the healing beauty of nature.  It was warm enough to take off our coats, and although it was certainly not warm enough to get into the tide pools, put on swimming suites or get pants and shoes all wet, most of the kids couldn’t help themselves.  We are in the final rounds of potty training Emmeline.  She’s been doing really well, but something about all the fresh air threw her off.  She started dry.  Peed a tiny bit in a sand bucket.  Peed some more in her leggins and underwear.  And then gave us a nice poopy gift right on the sand.  Thank goodness for friends who are more prepared than I am with plastic bags and wipes. I love these pictures….the progression of potty training at the beach on a cold day.  We took two of Hazel’s good friends from school with us.  And the Palms joined us with Charlie’s Rockland buddies.  After a little over an hour most of the kids shoes and socks and pants were soaked through and kids were melting down everywhere (especially my kids).  While Hazel was the only one prudent enough to stay totally dry, she started complaining about sand on her feet and in her shoes.  Charlie started freaking out because he was cold and terrified of all the dogs on the beach.  Emmeline was my toughest kid as we trudged back through the icy parking lot.  Those last 10 minutes weren’t too fun….but the feeling we all had on the way home of real exhaustion, they kind that you can only get from running around outside and panting fresh air, was worth all the freaking out and grumbling.

We’re all now filled with new hope for spring. 

Good bye my love.  Until the next gloriously warm (above 40 degree) day.