Monday, August 15, 2011

In Which We Go to the Beach

I could share the unedited, very un-beautiful version of our beach story. But—today—it is a very important thing that I give the glorious version. It is a gift to myself. A reminder that the (short) little moments are worth it. A reminder that I need an attitude adjustment.

Because life, right now, is so. much. work. Even for the fun stuff. Especially for the fun stuff. I find myself struggling to relax and enjoy myself. EVER. There is always a sense of being ‘on duty.’ A weight of things needing to be done. A frustration over things not going the way, being the way, they should. A fruitless yearning to be enough ME, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, physically. And, more often than I’d like to admit, a feeling that things aren’t worth it (such as 48 hours of ‘work’ for 2 hours of ‘fun’).

Beach (1) Beach (2) Levi Beach Beach (4) Beach Luke Beach Luke (2) Beach Hubby Beach (6) Beach Lola Beach (3) Beach (5) (More pictures tomorrow, including Lola Love.)


lijahmom said...

such a great reminder for me as well, thank you! I needed to hear that today!

Tsh @ Simple Mom said...

Your boys are becoming quite handsome. :)

And it sounds like a fellow introvert could use some alone time. At least, that's the prescription I give myself when I start to feel the way you described. Which is more often than I care to admit.

Hannah said...

There's a lot I want to say to this ... but in case I don't get the time, something is better than nothing, right? First of all, your kids are wearing long sleeved garments. Mind: blown.

Second of all, you have captured some amazing, breathtaking shots. Truly. Your talent is such a gift to your family. I hope your children enjoy looking back on their photos as much as mine do with my simple scrapbooks of much less impressive photos.

OK, this is already longer than I planned, but would it help if I just told you that although it still feels like plenty of work, and they still demand much attention, I've realized this summer that now that my baby is five and a half, I have more freedom now than I've had in years. Things run fairly smoothly -- as in, they can all go to the restroom on their own, even in public, I don't have to watch them like an absolute hawk in most places, they can grasp, say every other day, the concept of giving Mom an hour of quiet time. You are in a season of your life where the physical needs are still intense, and you're running on interrupted sleep -- a form of torture, really.

But, in your spirit there is a supply of grace, and as you enjoy that (despite the outward pressures), I believe you are creating an environment where your family feels loved -- which is so precious.

"Come to Me, all ye who labor ... and I will give you rest."

Praying for and thinking of you this week!

Heidi said...

Tsh~ I don't know how to 'give' myself alone time and then enjoy it. Sad, but true.

Hannah~ Thank you for such kind, uplifting words. <3 It was in the 60s on the beach. The sunshine was gorgeous (and more than I hoped for, really) but the breeze was quite chilly!! It was supposed to rain the next day, but ended up being beautiful and slightly warmer. That's Oregon for you...

Amanda said...

I'm thinking that your breath-taking photographs are worth those 48 hours of work. :) You inspire me.

P.S. My babies always cried on the sand, too.

Colleen said...

Oh, my friend. My dear friend. Every word you wrote resonates with me. I so wish I could encourage you, but instead I find myself secretly grateful that someone else thinks this, feels this...GETS this. The sense of constantly being "on". The struggle to relax. The feeling that the product isn't worth the effort. The frustration that (fill in the blank) isn't the way it should be. (Whatever way that is!) The struggle to relax. And on it goes.

I so wish I could tell you it gets easier. It does...and yet, it doesn't. One season is exchanged for another, one challenge for a another.

But you maintain such grace, such humor, such love and passion for life and family and friends. Even the fact that you recognized how important it was to simply look at these moments and appreciate them; that speaks volumes. You do see the big picture.