This Always Happens

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New Zealand Beach Life ~ Seems Like a Distant Memory

This always happens. We come back from a vacation and we get right back to it, the trial-by-fire rush of living in a small town by a big city. School, gymnastics, work, time with friends, time with family, trying to SQUEEZE it all in.

We’re already looking ahead to our calendar and anticipating a busy-ass summer, questioning when we’ll get our family time to do what we love, which is pretty much nothing, except be together. It’s all fine and good, but the mindfulness that we’d had in New Zealand seems to be slipping out of our hands.

I’m not complaining, I’m very much aware of how the life we have here is full of blessings. But I think if our time in New Zealand taught me anything, it was how much the rush of the day-to-day really takes away from us.

Getting out the door in the morning, all going different ways, and not coming back together until dusk is hard. We’re a family that likes to be together, crammed in the same small place. When our weekends fill up with obligations, some of which we love, and we’re running from place to place, by the time we settle in on Sunday evening, we’re drained.

Even though we knew this would happen, it’s still something we’re trying to change or embrace. Less of the squeezing, cramming and trying to sprint, and more of the enjoying, taking it all in, and being present.

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Home

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Home. It was a long stretch getting home, with us deciding to skip our flight in New Zealand (that would have been an hour) and drive the 9 hours and have some extra time to see a bit more of the North Island. Great choice, as we’re getting pretty good at the road trip lifestyle.

It should be said that we made it ALL the way home with zero pukes, a total and complete plus. We stopped in small towns along the way and these are two of the last pictures we took from our trip, photo credit goes to Maggie for the one of Barry and me. She always insists that we do a kissing one…ha!

Many, many more pictures and stories to share, but for now, I’m thankful to be home.

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Tubby

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The early part of my life was spent living with my family in a very small house with no running water or electricity. I have clear memories of kerosene lamps and outhouses….and it was the Eighties. I also remember that we had a bath tub next to our sauna that was propped up off the ground with room for a fire to be built under it to warm the water.  I so clearly can recall the feeling of my shoulders being cold from the outside air and my buns being too hot from the literal burning fire.

Our campsite at Lavericks Bay had an outdoor bathtub and the girls took a few baths in it after long days in the dirt and at the beach. Lucky for me, I took a few baths as well, but this time there was running water, flash lights, a box to prop my wine glass on, and stars shining bright above that I could appreciate……and room for my cute husband as well.