In Between Now And Then

I actually took advantage of it.

I didn’t have anything planned really, but I still took advantage.

Another stay-cation on the books for the Guats this Labor Day Weekend. A camping vacation would have been nice, but nevertheless I still found myself being grateful for the extra 24-hour period. Even though I didn’t have the “happening” plan I still found a way to find bring “cool” to our weekend. Cool and gratefulness. You see, the scenery and the peace I felt made up for the lack of traveling this three-day weekend. I figured a lot of people would probably be traveling to a get look at a place just like this …

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Appreciating the beach, the surfers and gaining peace at the same time. 🙂

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And the miraculous thing?

I had plenty of personal space. Plenty. And you know how I feel about my personal space and those hijackers who always try to crowd me. This time, at this beach … it didn’t happen.

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Discovering personal space exists

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There were people but for some reason they didn’t wander all the way down to my little spot. They hung out by the tidal pools, which we discovered bright and early before anyone arrived. My kids enjoyed checking out this new beach and the anemones, crabby-crabs, and tiny fish that lived in its tidal pool waters.

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Exploring tide pools

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I rediscovered that my California beaches can make up for nonexistent plans on a three-day weekend, on a free day, a free 24-hour period. You get to spend it anyway you want and instead of feeling bummed about staying in town, I just felt grateful that I had another school-free-don’t-have-to-pack-up-lunches-fight-school-traffic-and-snobby-PTA-moms-for-a-parking-spot kind of day. Labor Day was a beach day, filled with gratitude, boogie boards, sand toys, and plenty of Coppertone 45.

I felt myself being present in the moment, not worrying about the one that just passed, and not rushing to the next. I wasn’t worrying about the future of chicken dinner, or the picking up of Legos, or the fact that the purple Crayola crayon broke in half. I was just in between now and then, and that took place on the beach.

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The Stay-Cationers

I don’t know how it happened. But it’s been three years in a row.

Wait!

No.

Six!

It’s been six years in a row.

That burns me out.

I didn’t plan on becoming one, it just happened and it has nothing to do with parenthood. It’s just what happened.

I knew it was on the calendar, been on the calendar for years. It’s been set in stone since the late 1800s. I looked it up. It’s historic, people look forward to these things for months. Months!  Counting down the days until this particular weekend happens.

It’s the weekend where you get extra time, but not just an hour, you get a whole 24 hours to do whatever you want. There’s no one expecting you to clock in. You get three … three days to yourself … to celebrate, relax, unwind in some place that’s not your home. Anywhere but home. It’s your opportunity to sit in traffic or deal with airport personnel on your way to some great destination.

It’s the three-day weekend.

It’s Labor Day Weekend.

In some parts of the world they even call it a holiday. Not vacation, holiday.

A time to live labor-free and celebrate.

And here I was … working my ass off as a parent and letting the weekend pass me by without a boarding pass, or filling up the tank.

Yeah.

It happened to me.

I was one of them.

I’d come to the realization that I’d become one. Didn’t expect to, thought I’d have a timeshare or something, but no … nothing. Not even a huge backyard where I could set up tents and pretend to go camping. No pretending.

I’d become one.

I’d become a Stay-Cationer.

I didn’t mean for it to happen, but looks like once you hit the five years in a row mark, it’s official. You get a card. You’re in the club. You’re in the try to make a vacation for yourself in your own city club. Try to escape your hustle and bustle without boarding a plane or train group.

Normally things of this nature don’t burn me out, but for some reason it did this year.

And it’s probably because it wasn’t a conscious choice. I didn’t say “Hey, Guat why don’t you just stay in this weekend and explore the city.”

No. In fact, I don’t think I said that to myself at all the last five years, I think that’s what dawned on me.

So after a I’m-burned-out-I-can’t-believe-this-whoa-as-me session I came to grips with reality.

I an accidental tourist in my own city.

Yeah.

That was me.

But considering my location, I guess it wasn’t that bad. I was at a place where Coppertone 45 and flip-flops were an essential part of life. There was Framboise.  There was chocolate. There was laughter. And then there was more chocolate. And the fact that my kids weren’t having any meltdowns along the way gave this in-town retreat a five-star rating.

I’d have to admit that it was pretty good after all, even if I’d become a three-day weekend Stay-Cationer, it wasn’t too bad of a place to get stuck in.

Exhibit A

The Beach.

A good starting point for your stay-cation is a visit to the Pacific Ocean.

 

Exhibit B

Relaxation.

Actually having fun at the beach before we hit some boogie board action, followed by a swim in the pool overlooking the Pacific Ocean.

 

Exhibit C

Good Food.

After all that fun in the sun we hit the food truck nation, over 30 trucks lined the streets of our neighborhood this weekend where there were so many tasty dishes tempting us.

 

Exhibit D

The Best Truck Ever = The Best Smile Ever.

We found the truck that we’d been searching for … The Grilled Cheese Truck. We had the Cheesy Mac and Ribs Grilled Cheese. I can’t even begin to tell you how awesome … dude … I can’t even.

 

Exhibit E.

There’s no picture for Exhibit E … it’s just my soft Bed, Bath & Beyond pillow that will assist me in a long restful sleep after my supreme you-do-with-what-you’ve-got-because-what-you’ve-got-is-enough stay-cation.

Shine on.

 

 

 

Where It All Began

Why not … it all started with these two little words. Why not?

Flipping through the channels I saw it … flying high, legs hanging out in the wind, and parachute catching air. The Travel Channel. I saw it, briefly. It was on one of those top beaches shows. They managed to catch somebody parasailing in the background. And it took me back … Labor Day Weekend circa 1993.

On a spur of the moment decision my Dad hijacked Labor Day and decided that the Guat Family should head north to Santa Barbara. I don’t remember why my sister didn’t share this blessed two-hour traffic jammed hostile back-seat driver journey up north, but for some reason she was absent.

In any case we made it without pushing anyone out of the car while it was moving. Once we got there the relaxed laid-back atmosphere sort of washed over us and we forgot about the dysfunctional relationships linking us together. Our stay-cation had begun.

We strolled through town checking out the botanical gardens, churches, and cool artists’ festival they had that weekend. Before this I had no idea how awesome chalk on sidewalk could be, but it was pretty amazing to see all the colorful portraits and landscapes.

And then we headed to the beach … and that’s where we saw it. I had never seen anything like it. I had seen jet skiing , water skiing, and surfing. But I had never seen parasailing. We didn’t have the Travel Channel back then and if we did I wasn’t aware of it.

In any case I was in awe by the whole experience. When my dad asked me what I was looking at I pointed at the person flying high above the water and the boat pulling him away.

And then that’s when it started … my premature bucket list. I had no idea it was a bucket list at the time. It was more of the I-Wish-I-Could-Do-That-One-Day List. The list that remained unwritten, mostly a bunch of adventures and thoughts in my head, but this …this was the first one to be crossed off and I didn’t even know it at the time.

 Photo credit: Wikipedia

 

“That looks cool. I think I’d like to do that one day.”

“Are you crazy?” My Dad asked.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“Then I think we should do it,” my Dad said.

“Today?”

“Why not?”

And then there it was … the why not. This is where it all began.

Now it surprised me that he said “we.” Reason 1) He did not know how to swim, neither did I at the time.  Reason 2) He was scared of heights, not deathly scared but pretty much freaking him out kind of scared.

But that didn’t stop him. He was an adventurer that day and so was I. My mom even came along for the ride, just to witness our crazy adventure, see our expressions and join in on the laughter.

For this adventure my Dad went first. He was eager to check this off the list. I think if he would have waited he might not have gone through with it. So when they asked, who’s first, he jumped up and strapped on that harness. When he was high up in the sky, he seemed to be enjoying the view. However when he was being pulled down into the boat he appeared to have a little anxiety and nervousness going on. It might have been the Pacific Ocean hanging out beneath him. But he smiled and laughed his way through it.

Me.

I did the whole woo-hoo! on the way up and on the way down. And even though this happened almost twenty years ago I can still remember saying ‘holy crap!’ when I was way up high.

Blue skies and white sandy beaches. We had plenty of those down in Southern California but from this perspective everything looked different.

After that stay-cation I had a lot more ideas rumbling around in my head … in my I-Wish-I-Could-Do-That-One-Day thoughts.

 

 

 

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