This past weekend was absolutely amazing. Mother’s Day could not have gone any better. I’m still riding on the high of the sun and beach and cuteness galore even after five days with long nights of night feeding (still, 3 days shy of 11 months), a workout regimen complete with runs, breakfast preparations, meal prep, and feeding, laundry, dishes, and overall cleanup. It has been a lot to keep up with, but I am ever so grateful for two short work weeks.
It was a short trip but I didn’t feel rushed or shorted on rest which is possibly a little more surprising than one might expect of a single parent. But we joined my brother and his wife’s family at Surfside Beach where my brother’s father-in-law did all the cooking. So piggy backing off of someone else’s original plans (with invitation) saved me from a lot of work on Mother’s Day.
The relief of thinking about dinner and clean up allowed me the ability to simply sit back and enjoy. So I did. I put my baby in her swim suit and we got in the water for a little bit. While the sun came out, the wind was pretty active and the water was still on the nippy side. So we didn’t stay long before I took her back and wrapped her in a towel. Once she was fairly dry, she happily climbed down and played in the sand.
Letting Go on Mother’s Day and in life
Most moms would cringe at watching their baby put sandy hands (sometimes handfuls of sand) in their mouths. It was all I could do to not stress over her antics and scoop her up into my lap to save her from the filth and grime. But I knew that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the beach and the beautiful weather that turned out if I was constantly pulling her hands out of her mouth and dusting her off.
So I let her explore. I let her learn about the earth around her. I let her experience independence (under supervision). Her uncles would come up and say hello and then run back to the water and she would scramble after them…halfway at most. Then she would turn around and scramble back up towards me. We did this all afternoon.
I got a nasty sunburn on Mother’s Day. She didn’t. Perhaps it’s the Mexican blood in her? If so, thank you, Jesus! We went to bed that night in a luxurious and spacious camper trailer. I found it on AirBnB (the app). I frequently switch between AirBnB, VRBO, HomeAway, and TripAdvisor for deals on getaways. Then we got up, ate eggs for breakfast, packed everything up in the car, got back into our swim clothes, and went back out to the beach. I again allowed Daenarys to explore and play without much interference. There were some “no!”s here and there as she tried to eat some rocks and small shells. But I restrained myself from stressing over the sandy hands.
I will always remember the adorable little hiney wiggling back and forth as she chased after her uncles down the beach, the way she would stop halfway and look back at me, look at them, and then turn back around and scramble back up to me. Or the hilarious way she would stalk and hunt the birds that were scavenging along the coastline. It was the most memorable Mother’s Day, and we have only just begun.
What I won’t remember? The stress of micromanaging my 10.5 month old’s exposure to germs and dirt. Wrestling an impatient and bored wanna-be-explorer because I wouldn’t let her get down in the gritty sand.
Time is going by too fast. I want her to stay little while at the same time, I can’t wait for her to get a little bigger and see the adventures she goes on using her imagination. Her cousins are coming up with some of the craziest antics that remind me so much of what me and my younger sister would do when we were little. There might be some broken bones (hopefully not), some cuts and scrapes and bruises, but more regardless (and sometimes because) of all of that, there will be memories she will always remember and look back on.
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