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Playtime, Anyone?
There’s something about a birthday that makes me glance backward. And although my own birthday is still six months off, we celebrated a different one around here last week.
The Good Girls have officially reached the one year blogging mark. Yay, us! Yay!
Anyway, while the Bad Boys were whooping it up in our place during our absence, I was just getting back from a vacation wrapped around a mystery conference.
The location, itself, was a blast from the past as I headed to the New Jersey Shore—a favorite destination when I was growing up. In fact, my girls and I stayed in a motel that’s been there for as long as I can remember (though I’d like to believe I’ve aged better than the carpet in this place but I suppose that’s a matter of perspective).
From the time I arrived, I felt younger. At peace.
I built my first kite on this trip. And, yessss, it was able to fly. Quite well, thankyouverymuch. In fact, I was so good at it, I built another.
And I only came thisclose to beheading someone.
A minor infraction. Really.
But you know what I discovered about kite flying? Or, rather, the near-empty beach around dusk that was the setting for my follow-up mission? There’s a dreamy, romantic quality about the beach at that time (yep, even in good old New Jersey). Sure, I was just with kids at that point, but it made me want to cuddle up with a pair of steadfast arms and look up at the stars just waiting to burst through the brilliant night sky. Maybe even make a wish or two…
Unfortunately, some things aren’t meant to be.
I braved the bone chilling temps of the Atlantic Ocean to try out a boogie board. When I was a kid, we used inflatable rafts for this same purpose. However, back then, we were under the watchful eye of my mother who thought we’d drown if we went more than four feet past the shoreline. Needless to say, the ride was short. Too short.
Today’s boogie boards are made of foam with little arm straps to keep you from spending your day chasing your wave-tossed transportation. And now that I’m the watchful eye, the ride is much, much longer to shore. Moohaha… 
What was supposed to be just “a try” ended up being a solid hour of playing. I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in a long, long time. I giggled more times than I can count and basically felt like I was fourteen again. I almost lost my bikini top a few times, but it added to the fun.
I enticed my girls to Barnacle Bill’s Arcade across the street from the hotel one afternoon where we proceeded to play video games for two hours. My youngest was infatuated with Skeeball. My oldest has developed an appreciation for my lifelong favorite—Ms. Pacman (anyone remember what happens after they meet??? cuz I’ve lost my touch).
I still suck at Frogger. And I mean suck. Ay yi yi.
But as much as I love those two staples of my childhood, I fell prey to the allure of those new dance games where you actually have to move your feet along with the song. Two hours (and an obscene amount of quarters) later, I’d advanced from easy to difficult. And got an A on two occasions (my apologies to the other arcade patrons who had to listen to the remix version of “Centerfold” virtually non-stop). 
I’m nothing if not persistent.
Of course, I worked up such a sweat dancing that I HAD to visit the food counter on the other side. If you haven’t tried Breyer’s Reeces Peanut Butter Cup ice-cream, you’re missing out. Big time! I, of course, opted to have it in shake form. Yum!!!! By the end of that day, the lady behind the counter knew my order before I got there (but, shhhhhhh, don’t tell—a Good Girl must retain her figure at all times).
Finally, my most satisfying moment…
I visited my favorite haunt on the Seaside Heights boardwalk—Frog Bog.
For those of you unfamiliar with this game, you plunk down five bucks and get twelve slippery, slimy rubber frogs. Most of the frogs have withstood the test of time fairly well. Though the kid behind the counter did try to give me one that was missing an arm—not good for aerodynamics. Not good.
But I digress.
Anyway, you load your frogs, one at a time, onto a platform which you aim at a series of lily pads spinning around in a tub of equally slimy water. You use a mallet to make the frog soar through the air and, hopefully, land in a lily pad (or soak the people playing on the other side 
).
Not as easy as one thinks.
Twenty four (or so) frogs later, I won. And then I won again! Woo-Hoo! And I do mean, WOO-HOO!
All too soon it was time to pack up and head out. But I have to say, that may have been one of the most fun trips I’ve had in a long time. And I think that’s because I got to be a kid myself. Life’s responsibilities and troubles seemed a million miles away for those forty-eight hours.
And I loved every single minute of it.
Was it because I was reliving a fond memory? I don’t think so.
To be honest, I don’t think I was looking backward at all. I think it was more a case of living for the moment and reaching for something I’ve unknowingly abandoned as I navigate my today…
The joy of letting my hair down and simply living life without worrying about the bumpy path ahead.
Which makes a wallhanging I saw in an Amish restaurant/gift shop this past April all the more perfect. It said something like: dance like no one is watching, love like you’ve never been hurt, live like there’s no tomorrow…
That framed saying caught my breath the instant I saw it because it was so poetic and whimsical. Yet now, thinking back on those words, my breath catches all over again. But in a much different way.
Because I lived those words on that vacation. And it was amazing.
It gave me a sense of peace and genuine ear-to-ear happiness. It also gave me hope somehow. Hope that maybe, someday, I’ll get to make those wishes afterall.
So how about you guys? What’s the last time you allowed yourself to simply play and be a kid? What’s a vacation memory you will always cherish?
Hugs,
~Laura
**Next week, sit in on a virtual author panel as we discuss the process of writing. Chime in with your own thoughts and/or ask some questions.
