On our first morning of a family getaway after three long years, I woke up filled with excitement at the thought of my daughter, Lily, then 3, experiencing the ocean for the first time. A few hours later, our family of six, with 14 bags of beach gear in tow, arrived at the beach parking lot and began unloading. Eager to capture Lily’s reaction to the ocean, I turned around only to find her gleefully splashing in a puddle in the parking lot, wearing her bathing suit and utterly absorbed in her own world.
“Lily,” I called out, “come see the ocean!”
“Nooooo!” she replied without even glancing up.
“But it’s the ocean! You’ve never seen it! It’s beautiful!”
“MOMMY. I AM IN THE PUDDLE RIGHT NOW. I DON’T HAVE TIME TO SEE THE OCEAN.”
Eventually, when she was good and ready, we clumsily made our way to the shore. It took us nearly 45 minutes to unpack tents, chairs, and all the essentials—beach toys, snacks, diapers, juice boxes, and sunscreen. By the time we had smeared six humans with SPF 8000, I realized we probably had only a fleeting 10 minutes of actual beach time before the baby would start crying, prompting us to retreat to our overpriced rental and listen to the other kids whine about the sand stuck in their places.
Determined to make the most of those precious minutes, I sent my husband and the older kids to the water while I settled under the shade with the baby, juggling nursing, keeping him out of the sun, and preventing sand from entering his mouth—all while trying to keep my modesty intact in front of other beachgoers.
The beach was bustling, and I couldn’t help but overhear a group of young women nearby, probably no older than 20. They were chatting about summer jobs and life choices, and one girl mentioned babysitting for a family.
“They pay me well, but it’s exhausting. I’m so tired when I get home,” she said.
“I can imagine,” her friend replied. “What do you have to do?”
“I make food, feed them, clean up, take them to the park and walks, and even to the grocery store once.”
“Wow, it’s like you’re their mom.”
“I know, right? It’s like I became a mom of two overnight. It’s draining.” She took a long sip of her beer. “I think I might ask for a raise.”
At that, I couldn’t help but snort, causing the baby to unlatch and revealing a rather unintentional view to nearby families. I glanced at the girl who was effortlessly lounging in the sun in a tiny bikini, with a flat stomach and no stretch marks in sight. She had no children around her, was sipping on a beer at 11 AM, and was surrounded by friends who were also enjoying their carefree day at the beach. She seemed so relaxed, with her entire future ahead of her, discussing what she wanted to do with her life as if that was all that mattered.
I’ll admit, a twinge of jealousy struck me. The contrast between her carefree existence and my current phase of life, where I constantly juggle mundane tasks and shift my expectations to just surviving, was stark. There are days when I’m so consumed by my responsibilities that I forget to look up and appreciate the world beyond, just like Lily was too busy in her puddle to notice the ocean of possibilities around her.
I considered walking over to that girl, sharing a piece of wisdom about savoring these moments because life changes quickly, as everyone seems to remind me when they see me with my kids. But my time was running out, and with a baby in my arms and sand to shake out of my own belongings, I opted for a different approach.
After hauling the 14 bags back to the car, I buckled the little ones in and made my way back to Lily’s puddle. With a running start, I jumped right in. You know what? She was right. It was incredible in there.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the lessons learned from a toddler about living in the moment. It narrates a family beach trip where the author realizes the beauty of simply enjoying life through the eyes of her child. Instead of getting lost in adult responsibilities, the author embraces the joy of spontaneity and playfulness, ultimately finding happiness in a puddle.