Friday, August 15, 2014

it's not all lobsters dancing over rainbows...

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Lest you think our stays in Maine are all lobsters dancing over rainbows and hair being tossed effortlessly into sea breezes....

Last night Lucas was back in Massachusetts. My girl needed to be snuggled to sleep, so I happily cuddled with her for twenty minutes. Then my boy needed the same, so I happily snuggled for another half an hour. Figuring he was asleep, I tried to sneak out of his bed. But every time I attempted, he'd roll over, make a sad face, and pull me back in. This game continued for another half an hour, before I finally just had him climb into the big bed with me while I read until a reasonable adult bedtime {ahem...9:30... thank you very much sun and water and fresh air...}

All was sweet and calm until my girl woke in the middle of the night, and was furious to find her brother in bed with me. Where she should have been, according to her. She climbed in and fitfully slept until the sun started to rise, at what felt an ungodly hour. She woke with chip on her shoulder, a distaste for all things I offered for breakfast, and quite frankly a general sense of malaise. 

When someone in the house wakes in a state like that, the day can go two ways. We all know this. So I tried to save the day and offered mini golf, which the kids have been asking to do all summer long. And like any sane mother, I've tried to put it off until I couldn't any longer. 

It was a chilly morning, so we put on sweatshirts and I dug through my suit case to find my jeans and a striped navy and white shirt. Dressed, I felt put together and stylish {one of a few outfits that I modeled after my favorite duchess... the shirt from Boden, bought on sale for a steal!}

We arrived at the large mini golf arena and dutifully paid an arm and a leg for three clubs and colorful golf balls. It all started off fine, with smiles and gentle swings of the golf clubs. 

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And then, as any person who has mini golfed with a child, could guess, all hell broke loose. Balls started flying off the course and onto the side road {thankfully, not Route 1...} clubs became light sabers and swords, someone realized that the mini golf mecca had ice cream back at the pro shop - and the begging and whining started around the 10th hole. Around that time I not only realized that I had forgotten to have a proper cup of tea that morning, but also I looked back and saw not just one, but five other women wearing my favorite outfit of jeans and a blue and white stripped top. As we finished the course, one child flinging her arms for ice cream, the other sulking because we had to return the clubs and balls, I felt like vacation cliche.

Now, anyone who has spent time my children know they are sweet, well behaved, nary a whine children. But sometimes.... sometimes we all have a day.

We stopped at our favorite coffee shop on the way back to the condo. The kids sat patiently while I ordered and the barrista made my caffe mocha. When she passed the drink to me I sighed, saying "I attempted mini golf this morning, un-caffeinated..." She laughed heartily and smiled knowingly. "Well, you've come to the right place!" she said as she passed me my change.

On the way out the door stopped at the picnic tables, never having noticed before they were covered in chalk board paint. Tiny mason jars held nubs of pastel colored chalk. My kids looked up at me hopefully, but they didn't say a word. Perhaps they were a little frightened after I went on a long rant about being grateful and respectful and enjoying experiences while we were stuck in traffic en route to the holy grail of caffeine....

I nodded. And sat myself down on the bench and pulled out a piece of chalk. They followed suit. The conversation was easy and light. We drew for a while, and then headed back home for lunch and an afternoon swim. Fully caffeinated. Fully aware that our day turned around in a split second, thanks to the coffee shop, a caffe mocha {best $4.50 I spent all week!} and the chalk board picnic tables. 


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2 comments:

  1. Mini golf is a challenge for us, especially because Elliot is a SORE loser and fumes, throws clubs, pouts, sulks. He's like John MacEnroe of the putting green. Coffee doesn't even help me.
    I'm so happy that things turned around for you all...those tables are so cool!

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  2. Sounds like you really turned it around, even if it was much later. That's the pot of gold right there. And for what it's worth, I give you credit for the mini golf--we tried last summer and it was a total disaster. Not sure why I expected otherwise when it was 1PM and the heat index was hovering around 90+ and this course had not one bit of shade. I think I'm good with mini golf for a while!

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