The other day, whilst helping my bff Lindsay with her classroom, I met a cute pregnant gal who basically saved Lin from a meltdown of epic proportion. My dear friend is going to be teaching kindergarten this year (not to mention making her teaching debut) and needless to say the STRESS LEVEL HAS BEEN ELEVATED A BIT. And while Lin truly feels that she is doing what God has planned for her and that everything is going to be fine, walking into a blank room filled with boxes upon boxes of kindergarten paraphernalia (that unfortunately does not include directions on where it goes, what it’s for, and when it should be used) can be a little overwhelming.
Especially when you employ your best friend to help you, and it turns out that her only knowledge of anything having to do with Kindergarten stems from the year she attended. In which her only real memory is the day she threw up and got to go home early.
Enter cute and pregnant Allison, the Teacher Extraordinaire who came in and saved the day. She knew the answers to important things like what exactly Lin needed to buy, how to set up the room, and how to use the laminator which we lovingly named, The Death Trap for Cute Decor. Allison was the perfect balance of giving helpful advice and direction while also letting Lin decide how she wanted things to be.
Now the point of this story actually has nothing to do with Lin and her classroom, which is now so cute there is sugar dripping off the walls.
While eating lunch that day, there were a few moments where the conversation drifted from bulletin boards, centers, and Kindergarten curriculum to important things like, say, the beach. Allison was telling us about how she and her husband had just gotten back from the Panama City. Apparently, her husband and his family had been going to the same place for over 20-something years and to them there was just No Other Beach. I mean, gah. She told us this while rolling her eyes, and we laughed and rolled our eyes too because me and Lin are all about fitting in with cute pregnant teachers.
But, about mid-roll, I realized a couple things. 1) If my mother were there she would definitely have made a comment about my eyes getting stuck, and 2) oh, the hypocrisy at work.
Our family has been going on a beach trip every year to the same beach since my brother and I were just wee little tots. And while I know, logically and geographically, there are, of course, other beaches in the world, a summer is just not a summer until I have laid on the sandy shores of St. Augustine, FL. Alas, there is just No Other Beach to us.
So, all of that to say, I just returned home from No Other Beach, and it was the picture of a perfect va-cay. I would generally use these next paragraphs to go into detail about all the fun activities, cool new restaurants, etc, but it is hard to form paragraphs when the extent of our stay read something like this:
We woke up. We went to the beach. We had lunch. Back to the beach. We had supper. Bed time. (Add in lots of good time and good laughs with a lot of really good people). And repeat.
Like I said. Seriously perfect.