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.

Ever.

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.

Yes, I’m getting old, but I was born to break

Yes, getting old sucks, but some of us were born to break, and I am one of those people. I have a doctor’s note. Even in your 40’s, with a body that is in better shape (and way more active) than some people in their 20’s, bone breaking has nothing to do with age.

Disclosure: Pissy pants post prompted by some haters in my life, most that shouldn’t even matter, but I feel I need to get this off my “old” chest.

We all hate getting old, but let me dispel the rumor. I’m not falling apart because I’m getting “old”. I have a doctor’s note. I’m falling apart, and breaking, because I was born this way, and the breaking started some time around birth, apparently.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not fooling myself. I am getting old, but I’m not broken because of that fact. I’m broken in spite of it since I’ve always been “broken”.

I posted the other day about my “new normal” and I got some flack on Facebook. I heard that I’m just “getting old” and “these things happen”. Honestly, I was offended. I wasn’t offended that people said I was “getting old”. I am getting old. I was offended because people made the assumption, and overly judgmental statements, that my condition, my current broken situation, was solely based on the fact that I’m “old”.

Apparently, according to my doctor’s note, I was born broken. I guess I was born old? My bones, my tiny body, are not strong. I have a condition, that I was born with, when I was young.

There’s no name for this “condition” that they can put their finger on yet, but basically, I was born to break. Someone should have noticed years ago, apparently. I was born large, with Erb’s Palsy (because I was a huge baby…HUGE…1o lbs 11.5 oz). I’ve been ridiculously bow legged my whole life. I broke my baby toes while I cheered (or walked into wall jams) so many times that my baby toes now bend completely to the side of my feet with a ridiculousness that’s nothing short of a party trick. I have scoliosis (diagnosed at the “old” age of 12), a muscle disorder in my back (that they found when I was ridiculously old at 18). Broken, since birth.

I demolished my left elbow at the ripe “old” age of 35, it broke like a twig in several places, and I hit menopause at 41, just 4 months after the birth of my son. Let it be noted that I’ve had 4 children, now ages 26 to 7, without any hormone therapy, because “old” people do that. Yes, I might sound snippy here, but I’m tired of the insinuations and I’m ready to set things straight because my new “old” normal has been my normal my whole life, and I never knew it.

My normal is the reason why I never grew “like a regular person” apparently. My normal is why I break. My normal is why I don’t “heal” like everyone else. In fact, my “normal” is why my body actually heals quicker than most.

My body is what my orthopedist and my therapists now call “Mighty Mouse Syndrome”. No, that’s not an official medical term. That’s their term. They can’t explain it. In just 24 hours after my second surgery, while my arm was completely numb, a full block, my elbow healed itself to non-motion before I could get motion back again. Yes, in 24 hours, my body healed itself, protected itself from more pain, at a rate that most bodies, at a young age, would heal in 2-4 weeks. That’s what “old” bodies do, or not.

I have a disorder. I’m not your kind of  “old”. So, before you say my issues are because I’m “old” and I should deal with it because I’m “old” like you, maybe you should try to read, research, and understand, before you make your rash old judgements. You know who you are and thankfully I have WAY more supporters than I do haters, so there’s definitely that!

I am getting old. We all are, in fact. But my body, my 95 pound fit body, is still fighting harder than a 20 year old. My arms might be broken, but it has nothing to do with my age. Proof positive, there are millions of 40+ year olds walking around without broken elbows, all day, every day. Go figure. But not me. I was born this way. I’m an abomination of nature. Yay, me.

I can deal with getting “old”. I can’t deal with uneducated people telling me that I’m broken because I’m old. I can’t deal with uneducated people telling me that I’m not healing because I’m getting old. Take the time to read. Do your research. I’m not “healing” because my “old” body is healing too quickly. It’s fighting my condition. It’s protecting me from pain and further injury.

Thanks for your “advice”. When you get a medical degree, when you understand what’s wrong with me, I’ll be happy to listen to you because I really hope you can fix this “old” body of mine. In the meantime, I’d appreciate if you’d STFU because you have no idea how it feels to hear real professionals tell you that you were born to break.

You might be falling apart because you’re getting old and you don’t work out regularly and take care of yourself. I’m not taking that road. I’m really not that “old”. I was just born broken. I’m dealing with my new normal, my life-long normal that I never knew about. What’s your excuse?

Keep your issues to yourself and don’t read my rants if you want to judge. For real, I don’t need that shit in my life right now. I’m dealing with real issues. Just grow “old” and shut up. Thank you in advance!

#endrant