The third week of vacation, Sophia was in dance camp each morning. I was at summer school Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, and worked in my outpatient clinic Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoons. That meant I had to bring her to camp, figure out what to do with Jake, run into work, pick her up, and then go back to work at the other job.
Oh, and I'm trying to sell my current book and work on my next one.
By week four, I was pretty burnt out. It was also hotter than Hades. But awesome mom that I am, I had another camp lined up. This time, it was horseback riding camp, 15 miles north of here. But I had a plan for this. I would drop them off at camp, park myself in a coffee shop with my computer and write. It worked like a charm on Monday. I wrote about 5,000 words that day. I had momentum. I was on a roll. At that rate, my book would be finished in two weeks. Then came Tuesday. I was sitting in the parking lot, making arrangements to get my broken windshield fixed (that story is here), when I got the call that I needed to go into school. So, into school I go, and then haul it back up north to pick the kids up. Then I had mandatory meeting that afternoon. I tried to keep writing and got a little done. Wednesday, I was back on track and type, type, typing away. Then, due to the heat, we got the option to postpone the last two days of camp. That meant no more quiet time. But those two days were the first days of summer that we didn't have to do anything, and it was nice. So nice. We did do some fun things, and I got some writing in.
Then the weekend hit. We drove down to Jersey for my cousin's son's first birthday. We were those people who showed up two hours early, but we forced them into letting us help. Heat aside, it was a great time.
|The birthday boy and his awesome mom|
|All the kids in the pool|
|Sophia, my aunt and her grandson|
|My uncle and his youngest grandson|
I woke up pretty early the following morning. I was out on the beach, walking around by about 6:15 a.m.
|I love when my feet get flip flop tan lines.|
|This is our hotel, The Stockton Inn. We've been staying there since I was 13.|
Pat did all the driving. I read a book (or two). The kids were good as gold in the car. Jake started off travelling with my parents, but switched to our car about an hour into the journey. There was no horsing around, no bickering, no fighting. They didn't even watch a movie until the last 90 minutes. I know not every day will be like this. I know not every travel experience will be like this. But I realized, that for that brief 36 hour period, we were in the sweet spot.
We're now as tired as can be. I have lost all momentum on writing. This week starts the mayhem of the kids in VBS, with me working Monday, Wednesday and Thursday mornings and Monday, Wednesday and Friday afternoon/evenings. Pat and I are pooped out. But for those 36 hours, to have my toes in the sand, to watch the kids together, to smell the ocean and feel the spray, it was all worth it.
When can we do it all again?