Last week was my mini-vacation to the beach with my family. Every year my family heads up to New Hampshire for a week, but I do not stay the entire week. This year I stayed three nights. It’s a quick road trip, a few minutes less than two hours from my house (depending on Boston traffic.) We are quite literally right on the beach – a 50 yard walk to the sand.
I drank more than I should have, ate more than I should have, and worked out less than I should have (only went for one run.) At night I would lay in bed (I had a room in my grandparent’s rented cottage to myself) and listen to the hum of the ceiling fan and watch the curtains rise and fall with the salt air wind. I was almost able to convince myself that none of this matters. That it doesn’t matter if I am ever pregnant again or have children. That life goes on and I am going on with it, and maybe I just am not supposed to have children and should give it up. I was this.close. to convincing myself. No temperature taking, no OPKs, no wondering. No sex, because The Husband didn’t go up with me. Just wandering aimlessly – to the beach, to the boardwalk, to the restaurants, the stores.
And, is there anything better than an outdoor shower? My favorite part of renting a beach cottage is an outdoor shower. In any event I was home Friday afternoon in time for the local Independence Day festivities. All in all, a good mini-vacation. My favorite part of 4th of July weekend was being able to captain my mother and step-father’s boat. Maybe I will give this all up, get a boat and be a pirate.