Beach Bums

This post is written by guest blogger:  Anna Davidson

I have suitcases piled up in my bedroom right now.  Small lists are scattered on every surface as I’ve been scribbling things to remember to pack.  Tomorrow we are embarking on a trip to Florida.  We will drive 20 hours to get there.  (Which by default means we will have to drive 20 hours to get back home at the end of the week).  After what feels like 6 months of winter here in Chicago, I’m not sure there’s a limit to how far I would drive to sit in 80 degree weather and look at the ocean.

We are going to a beautiful beach called Siesta Key.  It’s across a bridge from Sarasota.  Thanks to a dear friend who lends us his condo–this will be our 3rd trip to this oasis.  We manage to get there about every 2 years, which means this is the first time for little Phineas to go.  I have a hunch he will love it like the rest of us.  The soft white sand between his toes.  A warm friendly cousin to the soft cold blanket that we’ve played in here for many months (think:  snow pants instead of bathing suits).  Grace and Emily have two favorite pastimes on the beach, being buried, and playing in a giant hole that Bob will dig for them when we get there.  I dug out these pictures from the last time we were there.  Think of us next week, playing in our beach holes, relaxing, reading, and enjoying some family time!

Sisterhood

This post is written by guestblogger:  Anna Davidson (my sister).

A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost.  ~Marion C. Garretty

My oldest daughter asked me today, “Mom, will I ever have to babysit Emily?”  (She’s 8 and asking about her 6 year old sister).  “No,” I said.  “Good,” was her answer.  I’m witnessing a sisterhood in process with these two.  There are many bumps in the road.  At this stage, they:  step on each other, spit toothpaste into each other’s hair, leave clothes and toys littered all over shared space (I think this bothers me more than either of them), and can annoy each other more than any other person on earth.  But, they also share some sweet moments.  They look out for each other at school, they miss the other when they’re gone, they offer each other a different perspective on life, a different lens to see things through.  They are night and day, and can be so similar at the same time.  Reminds me of someone I know…

My sister and I also had many bumps in the road.  She blazed the trail for me when she started school.  I would wait outside for her to come home every day during those 2 long years she went without me.  She taught me how to make friends–but she was always better at keeping them.  Probably because she didn’t hit them or call them names.  Hmmm…  She was my built in playmate during long breaks and family vacations.

She’s the one I can always call and say “Remember when…”  She knows me in a way that no one else does.  She’s seen me through it all–but as a peer, a fellow sojourner.  So, what used to be our ability to cut straight to the heart and push those buttons in a heated fight or argument, has now become a tie that binds.  An ability to help each other through hard things.  Or help me gain a new angle when I’m stuck.

And, I’m a sister to someone else too… We’ve had two years with our youngest son and it’s given me some perspective on my brother’s life.  He is caught somewhere between being tortured and doted on.  Phineas brings a lightheartedness to our family.  He makes us laugh and smile–which is why I like this picture of me and Alison and Peter.  Peter did that too.  I love being with my brother.  He adds an element of fun and playfulness when he’s around.  We always seem to be on the same page.  And even though our shared language can be humorous belittling and therefore I so rarely say it, I have a tremendous amount of love and respect for my brother.

They are both a precious link to my childhood–and I am joyfully getting to see it replayed, with new characters and scenes at my house daily.

Children of the same family, the same blood, with the same first associations and habits, have some means of enjoyment in their power, which no subsequent connections can supply…  ~Jane Austen, Mansfield Park, 1814