Zac and I planned a beach trip a few weeks ago. We were going to drive down early on a Saturday, spend all day at the ocean, then come home. The pandemic got worse, so we started to rethink Elias' birthday wish. Mom offered to book an AirBNB for us, so we could stay a few extra days and relax. I don't love the beach, but the fam does. We drove to Gulf Shores on Thursday and enjoyed the condo until Sunday. I hate the sand, but love the ocean. Zac and I left our balcony door open over night to just listen to the waves. Even Cole slept SO good. It's weird, being out and and about. Everything feels strange and my anxiety has been high since we've been home. I've been sleeping good, which is nice, but I wake up feeling anxious all over again. My heart races and I've been slacking on my routine of biking and cleaning. I feel like we shouldn't have gone anywhere, but also that we NEEDED to go somewhere. I bought masks for the kids and as cute as they are, it's still stupid that our country is number one and masks are mandatory because nobody wants to adhere to common sense. I'm frustrated and as you can read, it takes away the whole point of this post: the beach.
Anyway, we had a nice time. The kids played in the ocean and built castles and dug for clams and seashells. We watched movies and slept on a bed so big I had to make an effort to find Zac's foot with my own. There was a full moon on our last night and it was just beautiful. Even the weather was perfect (mostly around 6pm). The ocean temperature was comfortably cool and the sunsets turned everything orange.
No comments:
Post a Comment