Myrtle Beach Days

We’ll have some fun in the waves.

And that’s exactly what my boys did.

This happiness makes me happy.
This happiness makes me happy.

This past week, we enjoyed our last summer vacation before BOTH of my boys start back to school.   As with every summer, we went to North Myrtle Beach, SC home to Vanna White and the beach I grew up going to.   My parents have a cute little condo and being the old retirees that they are, they forgo their summer week since it’s too hot and usually too crowded.  For as long as my husband and I have been married, we’ve taken their summer week.

The wave just crashed onto him.
The wave just crashed onto him.

Back in those days, we could really call it a vacation since my husband and I actually relaxed.   These days it’s consider more of a trip, but as my boys get older I’m honestly finding it more and more enjoyable.

This year we kept our agenda light.   There was to be no running around, no going to shows, no attractions.   This year we were going to save money and enjoy the beach, the ocean, and the pool.   In the future, this may not pose to be as exciting for the boys, but for now they had a blast.

Out running the waves.
Out running the waves.

It warmed my heart and my soul to hear their giggles as they both attempted to out run the waves before they crashed upon shore.  I felt content and blessed beyond measure at seeing the two of them so wrapped up in their daddy, a man who willing allowed them to splash him, cover him in sand, chase him, and cannonball him in the pool.   How fortunate we all are to have him.

We took the opportunity to learn about sea life each day.   Davey was fascinated with the shells, and their “feet” that would help them burrow into the sand after a crashing wave.   He never knew sea shells were alive.   We talked about the birds and the sea gulls.   Davey watched in awe as the gulls would dive bomb into the water, scooping up a fish or two in it’s beak.

My three boys.
My three boys.

We flew a kite, fed some fish and ducks, and enjoyed some of the best seafood around at Captain John’s in Calabash, NC.   We kept it light, and for the first time in a while I genuinely had fun.   We didn’t rush to stick to a schedule and for once I didn’t overthink things for the kids to do.   I just let them go.

At night, when the boys were tucked away in their beds, my husband and I hung out on the back porch, a bottle of wine, a deck of cards, and the sound of the waves crashing on the beach to entertain us.

Building a sand castle with daddy.
Building a sand castle with daddy.

Growing up, Myrtle Beach always held a level of excitement for me.   We spent some of our vacations with my dad’s family, camping at Lakewood Campground, other summers we rented condos, and then my parents bought into their current time share 25 years ago.   Back then, the Pavillion was still on the boardwalk at the beach.   We could sit up top and watch the teenagers “cruise”.   The amusement park flashed lights across the street, with giggles and screams abounding.   Pinballs would light up, skee ball signs blinked and ice cream was the treat of the night.   The Bowery was the place to go, to see where Alabama got their start.   I get nostalgic when I think about my summers as a kid at the beach, and I smile when I think about how my children are doing the same thing.   When I was a teenager, I never thought I would be coming back to Myrtle Beach, SC.   Truthfully, I can’t think of anyplace else I would want to take my boys.   Memories of my childhood mesh with newly created memories of theirs.   I love it.

Of course, the sad part is always leaving and even at 40 years old, I get sad when our car pulls out of the parking lot.  I look back over my shoulder to see the Atlantic Ocean, the sunlight glittering upon the waves, and a lump forms in my throat.   Today, Henry looked out the window and repeatedly said, “bye, bye, beach” as he waved until he could no longer see the ocean.   Davey, on the other hand, almost began to cry as he exclaimed he wanted to stay forever.   A good vacation will do that to you.

Sharing a shell with daddy.
Sharing a shell with daddy.

I wanted to stay in that vacation, in this past week, forever.

Our final night.
Our final night.

Into The Woods We Go

I gotta tell you, I love this time of the year down South. The temperature is perfect. The leaves have changed and are nearly falling. It’s just a wonderful season.

This past weekend, the hubs, kids, and I toured yet another piece of property in our effort to vacate suburbia and move out to create our own little haven. The suburban lifestyle isn’t exactly settling with us like we thought it would. We feel cramped, like we can’t breathe. At times, thanks to our HOA, I feel like we’re constantly under the microscope, being spied upon. And while we don’t have a lot of yard to maintain, I’m stressed about making sure it’s perfectly manicured so as to avoid the unwanted letters and comments. The best way to eliminate all of that is to just buy a bunch of land, build a house, and make a cozy home.

I know a lot of people think we’re nuts. “Why would you want to move further away from work?” and “We won’t be visiting you as often if you move that far away,” are the comments I’ve heard most. My husband’s content with driving a little farther to work, especially if he gets to appreciate the rolling hills and beautiful farmland of God’s country. As for the second comment, I usually respond with, “you don’t exactly come visit us now.”

I grew up in a small neighborhood, in a part of town that wasn’t fully developed yet, of course that’s changed. We had pastures and woods around us, lakes and streams. My brother and I would spend our summers outside until it was literally too dark to see anything. Davey’s the opposite. He tells me it’s boring outside. Well, that could be because there’s nothing to explore in our backyard or in our surroundings.

I have this dream for my boys of having so much land to explore that I don’t see them for hours! I have this romantic idea of them being able to camp whenever they want and far enough away from mom and dad, but still in our backyard. I dream about the boys hunting with their dad and doing so in our backyard! We’d have our own garden. There’d be no 45 year old drunk neighbors driving home at 3 in the morning, or a neighbor’s home improvements commencing at 6 on a Saturday morning. There’d be no snide comments about our garage not being clean and therefore making the rest of the neighborhood look bad. There would only be us and the great outdoors filled with the sounds of God’s many delights.

I can’t wait for this day to come. I’m so intoxicated with the idea that I can’t seem to function. I’m up at night looking at land for sale, contemplating how we can afford it, trying to make lists on what we need to do to our current house, looking at floor plans for potential houses, and pinning ideas on Pinterest.

Saturday’s land tour was magnificent and I really wish we could just write a check and say, “we’ve found our new home”. Davey loved it. There were mud puddles, sticks, leaves, deer tracks, a running stream, the sounds of birds, and the occasional lizard. It was a little boy’s dream (and the dream of mom with little boys)

Could it be our new home?
Could it be our new home?
Could it be our new home?
Could it be our new home?