the Good Stuff

“May, I am making the decision right now to stop sulking that we aren’t going to the beach today, and I am going to choose to have fun with whatever we do.”

It was as if saying it out loud held me accountable to my words; and about as quickly as they left my mouth is as quickly as the regret set in … because my detail-oriented-doesn’t-miss-a-thing 6 year old would surely hold me to it.  I didn’t want to be held to it.  I wanted to go to the beach.   

The girls needed swim suits, and since the compromise of what all 4 of us wanted to do seemed to point to going to the pool, May and I were out getting new suits for the girls.  

While out, I got a text from hubbs. 

“What’s your ETA?  Boo and I have a surprise plan, we will need to turn and burn as soon as you get home”.  

“Okay.  Can you tell me the surprise?”.  I was struggling enough not going to the beach.  


Wait, what?  No ... really.  

The only thing worse than a sudden change in plans for me is the change of plans to something I know nothing about.  I was not handling the reality of the present situation well. 

That I would want my camera, to dress in comfortable clothes with good walking shoes, and that we were picking up sandwiches on the way was all I got out of him.  And he reveled in my not knowing.  I squirmed. I might have even twitched. 

We were off, and I had 6 and almost-5 year old eyes on me, so I kept my begging and complaints and questions to myself.  Hadz was tickled to be the secret keeper as we headed in the opposite direction than the beach.  

I softened a bit when the temps dropped enough for us to roll our windows down; when new scenery entertained my gaze; when the smell of the orange groves we passed felt like a new memory being formed, a Proustian Phenemenon in the making.  As palm trees gave way to pine and succulents to more mountainous terrain, I forgot about the beach. And when I picked up my camera to take my first picture it was as if it were the truce I needed to make peace with this adventure I had no control over.  I’m pretty sure my husband smiled in the same acknowledgement, but I was too stubborn to look at his face to see.  

I could write about all the cool things we saw and did, but this is more of a story about trust, and adult tantrums, and of letting go.  Next time someone I trust has a surprise plan for me, I hope I remember to soften a little sooner so that I can get straight to the good stuff.


Happy Birthday to that guy I trust.  

 © Houseman 2013