Yesterday afternoon, as I drove home from Michelle's yoga studio where I practiced in yet another fabulous class that was followed by an insanely fabulous massage, I had this whole thought I wanted to share with you about "doing no harm" and how that has to begin with being kind to yourself (truly kind, not-entertaining-the- looping-negative-thoughts kind), but it got all heavy and serious which-- doh, who wants to go there?

Seriously? Hell with that, let's go to the beach!

When I came home, the kids reminded me I had promised an "art day" so we covered the dining room table with supplies and we proceeded to make "story maps." (Yes, I just made it up off the cuff, and no, there's no real lesson plan here-- just hella fun). As always, nothing beats watching where kids go with creative prompts.

For instance, when I asked my niece Caroline to make a mark on her map to start her story with when she came into the world and to make a symbol of that-- she drew a heart. Ohhhh man. And my nephew Julian? A scarab. Love it.

So that's how we spent the afternoon-- tracking out the events/places/people of their lifestory that they wanted to focus on and drawing images to tell the story. The plan was to have an "art show" at dinner that night for the grown-ups, which we did. But there was one surprise for me . .. the kids had planned a little thank you.

Are you f-ing kidding me? Who ARE these children? Where did they come from and how lucky am I to be able to share in their world.

I wish I had so many more photos for you-- there have been so many incredible moments on the beach that I wish I could have snapped, but there's no way I'm gonna have my camera in a beach bag-- so I am entirely dependent on your imagination as this is all I've got:

Sun hats and giant striped umbrellas.
Cold beers pulled from the cooler.
Crazy salt water curly beach hair held back by sand-encrusted sunglasses.
Laughter and gull screams.
Crashing bodies into the surf over and over again until the moment comes when you flip onto your back and let the waves lift and toss you.
Staggering back to the beach where you drop your dripping body onto a freshly washed towel and feel your jagged breathing and BAM! your 4-year old nephew lands beside you, a Captain Hook hook in one hand and whispers breathily, "ready to play?"

Bisous, E

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