We left dishes in the sink and piles of laundry to fold.
We filled Mason jars with waters and regretted not bringing any snacks.
I nursed Alamae to sleep, and put her in her stroller to sleep while I read, peeking up every page or so to count three children at play.
I laid on the clay stained sand, believing with every ounce of my being in the almost science of grounding. Body to earth feels right. The stresses and the worries of the day sunk into the land beneath me, and I felt lighter when I got up.
Meanwhile, my children splashed and paddled, looked for snakes, made friends with visiting families over from Northern Virginia for an afternoon adventure.
I was moved to sentimental cliches. Filled with gratitude.
There are things I know about life and parenting. I know that the house will always need to be cleaned. I know that nature is the best tonic. And yet, almost daily, I forget. I get caught up in what needs to be done, and I lose sight of the things that make it all worth while.
But never once have I regretted leaving the dirty bathrooms to be cleaned another day while I sat on the beach with my children. Not one time ever.
I certainly won't regret it today, when I do it all over again.