I had called my boyfriend after dropping off the kids at their dad’s house. One kid had a fever and I wound up getting a call that evening that another had a fever as well. I was between a rock and a hard place. The kids were there for the week and I desperately needed to work. I was told they would be taken care of…
“You need to get me out of the house. I can’t be allowed to think.” I told him nervously.
When asked where I wanted to go, with no hesitation I responded. The beach! The beach has always been my sanctuary. I close my eyes, listen to the waves crashing on to the shore, get lost as the breeze whips my hair around my face, and hopefully be there long enough to enjoy a sunset. Salty air clears my soul I suppose.
I wish I could escape there every time I need it:
Stressing out over cutting it close on bills at the end of the month?
Pissed because your Ex refuses to talk to you about problems your having with kid weekends at his house?
Worn out and tired over a day full of work, chores, kids needs, and a kiddo on the autism spectrum who has been having an evening peppered with meltdowns that have re-surfaced after months of positive progression?
To have a genie in a magic lamp that could transport me away for even a few fleeting moments to regain my center.
Ah well. I may not be at the beach, but I think I have a few bottles of chilled cider in the fridge. After kids finally wind down, this writer’s imagination is going to transport me to a tropical paradise. I can already feel the sandy crunch between my toes, and the sting of salt water spray on my face.
Care to join me?