A Family Beach Day, A Day in Photos

A family beach day is so cleansing to the soul. Sometimes, words aren’t necessary when the photos tell their own story. This is one of those occasions, and I’ll enjoy this photo journal for years to come! Random thoughts from a mom after a day at the beach.

family beach day

Sometimes, just letting them enjoy each other’s space is enough.

family beach day

And most of the time, just letting them be them…well, it’s enjoyable for both of you. I dig his style!

family beach dat

Bubbles! What’s a beach day without bubbles? What’s any good day without bubbles, actually?

beach family day

A day without bubbles is like a day without a beach ninja. I mean, it’s not even really a day, is it?

family beach day

The only sad part of the day is when you look through the lens and realize they might be growing up too fast. It all goes by too fast. Until…

family beach day

You realize that one of them is looking back at you, from inside of a sand hole, enjoying life like only a small child can, and you realize that there are still many years of joy, and frustration, to come. Be still my heart!

b burying kylee edit

And then there’s this. THIS is the beginning of a memory in the making, with a man that you adore making memories with.

beach family

It ended way worse than this, of course, but I was too busy unburying my baby (face and all) to get a photo. Sometimes, like this time, it’s not OK to just sit back and be the spectator…because…buried alive?!?!

beach family

And just when you realize you’re absent from your own online album, all of your family photos, you see that you were there all along. In their reflection. Capturing every moment. While they looked adoringly at you, and you realize you’re doing exactly what you were meant to do all along. Take care of them, love them, enjoy the moment, and capture the memories in their reflection while they reflect on the love that you give them.

In the end, that’s all that matters. The memories, their love, capturing their beauty. When you realize you’re doing what you love…while you’re watching the ones you love the most…enjoy themselves? That’s when you know you’ve made it. That’s when you know your life, your world is complete. That’s the moment you realize you’re living the life you intended, the life you’ve always wanted to live. That’s when you know love.

I know all of these things, and I’m glad my camera reminds me daily. I’ve made it. I’m happy to be in their reflections. I’m just happy. Not everyone achieves that level of success in life. I’m content that I’ve found my success from within my own little world.

Are you?

The Storm Will Pass. The Spring Will Come.

Spring is a time of new beginnings for all of us. Never make rash decisions based on the winter storm’s events. The storm will pass. The spring will come. Embrace the warmer weather. Embrace the blooming flowers. Embrace what you love the most and be the change.

The Storm Will Pass. The Spring Will Come.

Every spring, I seem to re-evaluate my life. I guess we all do.The storm will pass. What changes can I make in this world, to my life, to make it a better place? I’m often tempted to throw in the towel and just give up after braving the winter storms. I think we all are. Being cooped up, both literally and figuratively, makes us all feel that way at some level, I guess. That overwhelming feeling of, is this really all working out for me, is it all worth it, kind of gets to you, you know? I know you know.

So, what do you do?

Do you throw in the proverbial towel and just decide that the struggles aren’t worth it anymore and start anew with a whole new life? I mean, we’re all getting old (as we read my dribble), so is it all still worth the fight? Are the struggles really worth the pay off? Would it be easier to just start over, just like the flowers in spring?

Or do we take the lead from the most beautiful season that nature has to offer? Do we just stay where we are and enjoy, and nurture, the rebirth of the new season in our lives? Do we just grow back, annually, despite the diversity?

I choose to stay. I choose to bloom. Again. Because my life isn’t always beautiful, but overall, it’s a beautiful life.

My family, my marriage, has a lot of struggles. We’re human. We make mistakes. We all make mistakes. Forgiveness, rebirth, and remembering what matters the most is what keeps us all going in life. I take my strength from the season of growth. Springtime.

The flowers are blooming. The weather is heating up. There’s a freshness in the air. There’s a freshness in my step too. This time, unlike the spring epiphanies I’ve had in the past, I plan to keep that freshness alive.

I don’t know how much time I have left on this earth. None of us do. I’m embracing spring. I’m embracing life. I’m embracing an awakening in myself, my marriage, my family.

This year, the only spring cleaning I’m going to do is from within. The cobwebs can wait.

My family comes first. They’ve always come first, but I forget to tell, show them enough. No more forgetting to tell them that they come first. No more forgetting them because I have just ONE MORE task to complete. No more putting them off. No more skipped biked rides. No more ‘in a minute’ or ‘we’ll see’ replies. No more forgetting them.


Hello spring! I’ve missed you and I’m ready to make the change.

The storm has passed (for good). The spring has come. I’m happy, I feel playful (for the first time in 100 springs), and I’m ready to never cut down a tree again.

How Do You Define a “People Person”?

How do YOU define a "People Person"?
Are you a “people person”, and if so, how does that define you?


I’ve always been told I was a “people person”. In fact, I’ve built my whole career on it and I’ve never had to break a sweat at work (physically only, I stress-sweat a lot) because of it. I’m a people person. People like me. The end. Or is it? The other night has me questioning my “status” on this subject matter, and questioning my husbands as well. The definition is fuzzy at best, when I was reminded by one of my husband’s friends.

B is NOT a people person. Quite the contrary in fact. He really doesn’t like people (or mankind) in general and he reminds me of this often. He chose a profession in the construction field for this very reason. They don’t have to be “nice”. They don’t have to like each other. They just have to build shit, call each other incompetent, and tell off-colored jokes that don’t amuse those of us in the “people person” category. Like, for real y’all, they don’t even eat off plates and stuff and they cuss like nobody’s business. Not “people person” worthy. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great husband and provider, just not a people person. But my husband loves to be out with people while I actually really only love to be with my people (my family and a VERY small clan) during our off hours, so that’s where this story begins.

One of B’s friends stopped by the other night after B had been on a people-hating rant (long story involving some homeless people, check my Facebook post for that drama). The babies were sleeping and it was just us 3 adults. Apparently, his friend had a fight with his girlfriend and he’d come to stay with his mom (our neighbor) for the night. Couples fight, I can’t judge and he wasn’t in a bar somewhere, so…good for him. But a conversation unfolded that seemed…odd at best to me.

Why had they fought?

Could we help?

WHAT was the problem?

She’s not a “people person” and I am, was the answer. It causes problems sometimes.

OH. Yes, I get that. We both get that. But then it took an odd turn. B went to the bathroom and Fuddy (yes, that’s what they call him) spelled it out in a way that baffled, confused, and sort of amused me. I’m about to verbatim so excuse my grammar here…

“My girl’s like you. She’s not a people person. She’s not like me and B. We’re people persons. You and my girl? You’re not.”

How so?

“B and me, we like to be around people. We want to go out. We want to have lots of people over, all the time. We want people around us all the time. You don’t. That’s what people persons do.”

Oh. Right. I like my privacy. I like to spend time with my family. I don’t mind the occasional guest. I really like going to events from time to time, but I don’t like hoards of people in my house constantly. I don’t like the chaos and the mess constantly. I guess your girlfriend might just want to spend some time with just you and the babies. Perhaps?

“Yes, she’s not a people person….like you.”

And so, I did what any self-respecting person that lives chained to her computer would do. I Googled the definition of people person and now I see where this huge gap in understanding of this made-up term came from. It’s all in the interpretation. In one way, I’m totes right, in one way, so is Fuddy.

peo·ple per·son


  1. a person who enjoys or is particularly good at interacting with others.
Let’s break down this definition, shall we?
  1. A person who enjoys interacting with others = that person doesn’t have to be good at interacting with other people at all really. Just likes being around other people.
  2. A person who is particularly good at interacting with others = doesn’t have to particularly enjoy interacting with big groups, just has to be good at it.

So, lesson learned. We’re both right and I have no argument. My husband (and possibly Fuddy, I don’t know) aren’t good with people, but they’re “people persons”. I’m not a fan of crowds, but I’m good with people so I’m a “people person”. So much for made-up words, definitions, and trying to use them to categorize people. And so much for using that term that others have imposed upon me over the years. I’m not sure I like the connotation anymore no matter how you spin it.

What’s your definition of a people person? Is your perception good or bad? Mine has changed a bunch over the past couple of days and I’m curious what you think!