I can go to the beach and sit for hours perfectly content with my tall glass of water, my beach chair and a great read. The sound of the waves is my mantra that lulls me into a deep relaxation. I have always been this way. The beach is my calm place.
Watching my girls at beach night this year, I realized that my girls are not like me. Well, one girl is not like me. Lilah is perfectly happy to relax on the beach for a spell, but not Grace. She needs to be moving. At first I thought it was that she wants to still “play” not quite grasping that teen thing that happens when you move from playing soccer and tag and tossing each other around in the water to “hanging out”. Hanging out is hard for a girl who needs to move or is bored. If you can talk and walk, that is fine. If you can talk and swing, that is okay to. But sit on a wall or sit on a blanket or sit on a lifeguard chair and “hang”? Well, that is just a waste of a trip to the beach.
I realized that Grace is just like my sister. When we go on vacation, I am the one in the chair with knitting, my drink and my book. It is my down time, my “I’m taking a break time”, my “let Mamma be” time. But not my sister. It is her walk the beach time. It is her paddle board or jog time. She is always moving at the beach. Just like Grace.
I realized that this is not unwillingness to morph into teenhood. This is Grace being who she is, who she has always been, and who she most likely always will be. My girl. My beautiful, active, content beach girl.