Going places

My boys are adventurous explorers, on the move constantly. They like to jump off couches and and throw balls. Wrestling matches are in abundance and black eyes are inevitable. They never stop moving. These simple facts make trips to the park with them nearly impossible for one person and visits to friends houses challenging and sometimes their energy drive me nuts. Seriously, there are days when I wished they would just sit and play with a toy like it is supposed to be played with rather than turning it into a demolition derby. Today was one of those days.

Elijah and I went to a beach. Our individual plans for the day were obviously different and was apparent the moment his little feet hit the sand. He was off, right to the water. I was looking forward to a relaxing day building sandcastles, munching on snacks and visiting with friends. My reality? I spent the next hour keeping Eli away from the nasty green stuff (why does every lake have a collection of green goo on the shore? Seriously nasty.), keeping him in shallow enough water, picking him up when he fell, chasing him back to our area...the kid was on a mission and while I was chasing him around I found myself wishing he would just sit still and play with the freaking sand like the other kids.

After an hour I was done-zo. As I tried picking up our sand toys with my feet (my arms were full of screaming toddler) I grew frustrated and it got even worse as I tried to collect our things so we could get in the car to get the heck out of there. Just when I thought the spectacle couldn't get any worse...my cheap old navy flip flop broke. This mamma could have cried. Why can't he just sit and wait for me to pack up the car? Why can't I trust him to not run away? Why can't he sit still like the other kids? After what seemed like forever we were finally on the road. That's when the tears came and the mom guilt started. Am I giving him enough attention? Am I strict enough? Does he not get out enough? I could go on and on about all the questions running through my head on the hour drive home.

About 10 minuets from home, I looking in the review mirror and saw Elijah drifting off to dream land. I found myself stopped at the stop sign a little longer to watch his eyelids grow heavy. His hair was a mess, his skin tanned from the sand and his sweet little hands rested quietly in his lap it's then that I realized how thankful I am for all that energy.

Elijah will never be content to just sit. He is a born explorer, always looking for the next thing to be discovered. He lives for adventure and has no fear. He is a mover and a shaker. He loves to create excitement and dance until he falls over. Elijah is full of life and that is going to take him far!