Sunrise, Sunset: Relaxation?

Why do people say that vacations are relaxing? Let’s see. We started on our trip at 3:00 in the morning on Saturday. On Sunday, I saw the sunrise. Today, I saw the sunrise. Add in running in and out of waves, chasing two wild and crazy boys and generally wearing myself out and I’m wondering where this illusive relaxation is hiding.

To be fair, it’s not that the sun is streaming directly in our windows. In fact, BigBrother has been waking up well before sunrise, calling out for me either right before or right after the clock says 6:00. This part of North Carolina doesn’t face East. When we look at the ocean, we’re actually looking due South. The sun rises to the left of our house when you stand on the deck with a steaming cup of coffee in your hands and a three-and-a-half year old boy running Lightning McQueen over your toes. I figure he’s waking this early because, “OH MY! WE’RE AT THE BEACH!” But, really, couldn’t he just sleep until seven? Or even eight like his brother? Does it really have to be six? Sure, the sunrise is pretty but so are my dreams.

The good news is that they are exhausted at the end of the day. They whine about bath time but the accept our normal rituals of bath, teeth, books, prayers and bed all while the sun is still up. It’s a slight bit later than usual because, hey, we are on vacation after all, but they’re still in bed, asleep, before the sun goes down. Sleeping in the same room, which is different than at home, they giggle for awhile. Eventually, the giggles die down over the monitor, beautiful silence greeting our ears as we sit on the deck, laughing about the things they did and said all day. When they’re not awake, we talk about them like they are. Perhaps we don’t really want relaxation. The sun sets. We light the citronella candles. We sit back in our chairs. We talk about going to bed before 9:00 in the evening. We feel old.

Perhaps we prefer this kind of hectic, kind of busy, kind of loud vacation. Even though we’re up early and we go-go-go all day, I’ll admit: it is relaxing. The sound of their laughter as they race in and out of the waves. The building and crashing of sandcastles. The sun on my shoulders. The walks on the beach with my handsome, beard-growing (?) husband. The laughter with my parents, brother and sister-in-law. The rare moment alone, caught and cherished for the beauty of it all. And even somewhere in the middle of the constant movement and noise, I am able to recognize the beauty of what we’re experiencing: a family vacation in all its noisy glory.