Category: fun

Beaches, Sunsets, and Classrooms

This week, my husband and I celebrated 19 years together. We’ve made a tradition of taking a weekend trip near our wedding anniversary. It fell on a weekday this year, so we took a few days off to spend our anniversary at our favorite beach.

It threatened to rain on us, and it was actually sprinkling as we set up our chairs and umbrella the first day, but that was surprisingly soothing: relaxing in our chairs and listening to the gentle rain tap lightly on the umbrella, waves crashing rhythmically in front of us. Then the rain decided to give us a break, and we spent a beautiful afternoon alternating between jumping in the waves and half-dozing under the umbrella.

The days went by so fast. I loved our time together, nothing to worry about but what to get into next. On our last evening, we took a long walk down the beach, picking up seashells that caught our eye, pausing to take in the pink and blue and purple sunset that managed to peek through the clouds, seemingly just for us.

Today, my husband is helping our older daughter set up her classroom for her very first teaching job. I’m not sure which one is more excited about it, him or her! She has talked about being a teacher ever since she was very little. I got her a teacher Barbie doll many years ago that she still has, with a mini chalkboard, stored away with other cherished toys in her old bedroom closet. We played endless hours of school over the years, sitting in front of her while she instructed, preached, told random stories, issued commands, whatever popped into her head as she strutted in front of us. And now, here she is, awaiting the first day of school and her first classroom of (real) students.

I have been thinking of both of them all day. It’s fitting, actually, that the two of them are working together on her classroom today. They have always been close. I love that she was at our house when she received the job offer, and I love that my husband is with her today, working in her classroom with her. They deserve to share this happiness together, after all the jealous and bitter attempts by his ex to drive them apart. It didn’t work on them, and it didn’t work on us. Go figure.

I’m looking forward to heading home and hearing all about his day, and her classroom, and her new school, before we settle into our weekend together. It’s going to be diabolically hot, but yard work doesn’t do itself, so there is definitely some heavy sweating in our Saturday forecast. But after that (and after much-needed showers) is our date night, so it will be a great day, no matter what.

Snow Days

Quotes about snow don’t typically get my attention here in the sunny, hot south, but the last few days have been anything but typical. After a long, cold night of freezing rain earlier this week, we woke up to a thick layer of white, glistening ice.

I remember the first snow of every season, growing up in the north. No matter how old I was, that first snow was always exciting. Before anyone stepped foot in it, or drove in it, or touched it in any way, it was so beautiful and peaceful, a smooth, calming blanket of sparkly white.

Something else that was exciting about those long-ago days was getting a day off school if the snow was heavy enough, and that thrill hasn’t changed, either. The best part of this oddball snow and ice storm has been this: my husband and I found ourselves with three straight snow days!

We couldn’t resist venturing out into the ice, crunching our way around the yard, dashing back inside, shivering, to warm back up before heading right back out. He thought he was clever and asked me to come out and look at something, just so he could throw a snowball at me. One look at his trouble-making, smiling face, and I knew what he was up to, but I went outside anyway, just so he could let loose and then laugh like a little boy (albeit, a very tall little boy).

This weekend will warm up quite a bit, and the sun will likely erase every speck of snow and ice, leaving us with mud, muck, and memories. I can’t say I want a repeat of the arctic cold and the polar ice any time soon, but I can say, there is no one else I would rather be snowed in with than my snowball-tossing, snuggling, laughing, best friend and blanket sharer.

Kids Again

When the kids were little, my husband and I took them to the state fair every fall. I have so many pictures and memories of the lights, the sounds, the smells, of standing in line with excited and impatient little ones, of waving to tiny blonde heads as they spun and flipped and turned on rides, searching to see if we were watching.

Last weekend, we took the kids to the fair again. All four kids are adults now, so we walk right past the kiddie rides and the fun house. But I can’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia as we do, because I remember stopping at each one, waiting with my husband, holding the kids’ hard-won toys or drink cups and other prizes, juggling everything to find a free hand to take pictures of them on those rides or skipping through the fun house. Was it really that long ago? Doesn’t seem like it.

Last night was a value night at the fair, practically free to get in and to ride, so my husband and I went back, just the two of us. We strolled through the displays from 4-H, the marketplace, the sewing and photography contests, things the kids rush past on their way to cotton candy, deep-fried goodness, and rides.

We sat down to split a funnel cake, and I found myself saying, “Want to buy a few ride tickets?”

My husband looked surprised. I get motion sickness pretty quickly, so it’s unusual for me to suggest hopping on the rides. Blame it on sentimentality, remembering the fair when the kids were little, or running around the fair with my brothers much longer ago, fearlessly leaping onto anything that spun or whirled or turned upside down.

We bought some tickets, then headed for the rides like we were doing something so wild and crazy. We shrieked, laughed, ran into each other, and climbed out of ride cars swearing we were never doing that again, only to get into another line and do it again anyway.

I took a photo with him while we waited for one of the rides to start. His hat was backwards, my hair was messed up, our faces were shiny from the humid southern night. It was not a glamorous photo by any means. But in that photo, we are both smiling and laughing, and we are infectiously happy, waiting for that ride to swing us around and crash us into each other, like we were kids ourselves again.

One ride spun us in so many dizzying, rapid-fire circles that I could barely get out of my seat when it was over, and I held onto my husband’s arm as we struggled for steady ground again. We had to sit down for a bit, both of us moaning that we were going to throw up.

So was it a bad idea after all? Not even a little bit. The fair had some of my favorite rides from when I was little. It was a thrill to get onto those same rides with my husband, to laugh and scream and hold onto each other and forget everything in the whole world except that moment, just us. I can’t handle the rides quite like I did when I was young and indestructible, but feeling seasick was worth it anyway. We had fun.

We got to bed much too late last night, and it was agonizing to get up for work this morning. We held onto each other until the last possible minute, hitting snooze again and again.

I find myself still thinking about the rides last night, and how maybe next year we should get the arm band for unlimited rides, and how I very much enjoyed turning back the clock and being silly kids again with him for the night. We should–and will–do it more often!

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