Vacation Land

I admit that I’ve been delinquent in my posting the past couple weeks—but not without good reason. For a blessed ten days, I’ve been on a family vacation in the land of lobster shacks, flea markets, and Moxie soda. Yes, good ol’ Maine—the way life (or at least vacation) should be—and my home until I migrated south to Boston a decade ago.



"Lobstering" at the Bangor Children's Museum

Getting away to the self-proclaimed “Vacation Land” is always a welcome treat. When we travel the four hours north to my parents’ midcoast cottage, we suddenly find ourselves driving in less traffic, breathing cleaner (and cooler!) air, and surrounded by more trees than neighbors. Sure, we go a little stir crazy, itching to walk to the corner store or follow along with our reality TV shows (the cottage doesn't have TV), but the slower pace makes us wind down and relax a bit—as much as one is able to relax when vacationing with a toddler.

And speaking of S, visiting Maine presents the opportunity for our daughter to be a country kid—one who runs around barefoot, catches hermit crabs in her bare hands, and swims in the icy Atlantic. Did our little city girl do all these things? Not exactly—but she was barefoot from time to time, she saw a hermit crab, and she dipped not one, but several, toes in the ocean.

She also got a few mosquito bites—which might have made the biggest impact on S. I mean, she’s pretty excited about it. Yesterday at naptime, she fell asleep with her finger on the bite on her wrist and today, as we climbed into the car to return to real life (daycare for S and work for me), she talked about how her bug bite was going to school with her. I guess I’m glad she has a new friend.

But mostly, I’m glad that I can share a bit of my childhood with S—to teach her to dig for mussels in the mud, to cast her fishing line in the water, and to spot a seal’s shiny head amidst bobbing lobster buoys. And maybe next summer we'll work on swatting away mosquitos.