My back rests gently against a reclining chair, my feet are covered in a light layer of sand. I'm enveloped into a hug of warm air. My body is relaxed and rested.
Opening my eyes, I view the most magnificent shade of blue in front of me. Still water, with slight waves lightly lapping against the white sand, softly whispers my name. I pull myself upright, setting down the delicious creamy strawberry drink decorated with a miniature umbrella. Strolling over to the edge of the water, I stand still and enjoy the warm licks of water on my toes.
It's 85 degrees, zero humidity. A slight wind brushes my short hair across my cheeks.
The sun is beating down on more bare skin than I've shown since giving birth six months ago (i.e. not my usual sweatpants and hoody). I glance down and notice with satisfaction that all of the running is paying off as the body wearing the sleek black swim suit is looking less and less "post babyish". Perhaps in a couple more days a slight tan will stain my winter white skin.
My shoulders rise and fall, the motion continuing all the way down to the bottom of my feet. I haven't a care in the world, and my entire being is so relaxed, it's a wonder that I'm still standing.
Giving into the impulse, I lie carefully down on the sand, feeling the warmth burn into my skin. A good kind of burn. My entire body sinks into a carefully molded "Deanna" impression.The only concern on my mind is "Which evening dress should I wear to tonight's formal dinner?"
As I'm pondering my choices, the sun is suddenly blocked by a shadow. My eyes flutter open.
"The front desk called and wants to know if we can bump your massage to 3:30?"
My tanned husband stands beside me, his earnest blue eyes peeking out underneath his S&D Landscape ball cap.
"Sure, waiting an extra half an hour won't kill me." I graciously offer.
He offers me a strong arm and lifts me up out of the sand.
I follow him back to our beach chairs, retrieve my drink out of the sand created cupholder, and settle back into the comfortable seat. I consider which book I should read next, and then decide to just let the moment of relaxation wash over me. No thoughts. No worries.
I stare out at the brilliant blue water and idly notice the clouds drifting into recognizable shapes- a smile, a stop sign, a teddy bear. A bird swoops down and lands on the sand, looking for food.
Once again I close my eyes, sigh with bliss, and sink even lower into the reclining chair.
Just then, I hear the sound of strangled vomiting.
I race out of the chair, every muscle in my body tensing. Out of nowhere, a pink nursery materializes. Inside, I discover a very sad little girl covered in vomit and crying in discomfort, large alligator tears streaming down her face and signing "help". Just as I'm reaching out to her, piercing screams join in from the blue nursery from a little boy who just woke up ANGRY that he is all alone, resting on a very full diaper and operating on an empty belly.
It's somehow freezing in the house and I see snow softly falling out the window.
As I stand silently surveying the mess and deciding which problem to tackle first, I briefly feel sorry for myself and then promise...
someday my beach vacation will advance beyond my dreams.
Meanwhile? There's work to be done with thankfulness for life and a roof over our heads. #MotherhoodRocks
(anyone else ever get SO wound up from being housebound that your imagination just kind of runs away with you???)
*Addison is feeling a bit better since I wrote this post