We did something sneaky and wonderful and utterly spontaneous on Friday, because sometimes we're like that. Weeks ago, when Scott and I were sitting side-by-side on the couch making up our course syllabi for the first summer session he told me he was building in an afternoon off--just because, and that I should too. I looked at my syllabus. Maybe I should build in the same day off? Family time ideas began to percolate--a trip to our favorite museum, or better yet, a beach day. One glorious beach day to sit by the ocean, watch L. in his element run and dash into the waves, T. [more]

Yesterday's column took a lot out of me to write because, after six full days at the beach surrounded by family and many small children, I officially not only have a clear case of vacation brain, but mommy brain, too, which I thought I had recovered from when T. turned four. But it's back--in full swing, causing me to do things like forget how to string a coherent sentence or two together--unless the sentences are things like "stand back from the water!" or "Get your swimsuit on NOW!" or "No, no, no! Don't put sand there!" [more]

On Saturday we're escaping to the beach for a quick, overnight stay at our favorite tiny, unpretentious (read: bare bones) motel. This motel could be The Ritz, as far as the kids are concerned, even if Scott and I have been around enough to know the difference. For my kids, there is something magical about spending the night away from home, all crammed into one room, in a place where the soaps come in little wrappers, and if you wake up in the middle of the night with a panic attack--hey!--there's your mom and dad an arm's reach away! [more]