Blessings and Beaches and Babies, Oh My

After being treated to what felt like a week of Saturdays, it's disconcerting to come home and find that the entire world has moved forward into a new month and that it's no longer Saturday, it's Wednesday.  Or Thursday.  That's just what these guys do for me, especially this tiny little girl.  When I visit, we get to live in a world of Perpetual Weekends.  

Little Missy Miss was blessed, bracelet and all, and then we congregated at Mama Dawn's for brunch, a lively hodgepodge of Mosleys and Burtons alike.  I must say that, while Annie had her fair share of sturdy uncles swarming about, I took quite the honor in being her one and only prize-winning aunt in attendance.    

4 Generations, man

Same generation.  Twins actually, just born 17 months apart.

Remember that time someone asked if Chris and I were married? 
Hahahahahahaha, NO; he's much too young. 

And then the next day, with the newly-blessed niece in tow, 5/7 of our Burton Clan spent the day at Disney, not getting sunburned and celebrating Christophoni Columbo's advancement from secondary education into the collegiate stratosphere.   

And though we do not intend to besmirch the name of Disney, I think we all kind of came to the consensus that we maybe prefer California Adventure over The Land itself?  But I'll still save a sacred place in my heart for the Indiana Jones ride and Star Tours.  Also: I really just want to meet Jafar, and such an opportunity has not yet presented itself, so I may be a smidge predisposed to feelings of bias.  

Probably my favorite line from the entire trip:
"Sir, would you like a bag for your sink of ice cream?"  

And alas: what is a trip to California without a quality visit to the beach? Ichthyophobia and shark-induced terror aside, I quite like the beach.  [The ocean, though? Don't get me started.]  There's something to be said for the thinking that happens and clarity of mind that comes with your feet in the sand and the waves around your ankles.  As the water recedes, there's almost this intrinsic pull to let it sweep you out to sea, not in like a moribund Edna Pontellier kind of way, but more in like a spiritual return to our primoridal state kind of way.  

Or maybe those are just my residual feelings for not having brought my swimsuit along.  

Now, now that I'm home from vacation and left muddling through the aftermath of one of life's curveballs, I can't help but appreciate to what degree it might have actually been a little blessing in disguise - fedora, trench coat, and all.  

And while I still have some "figuring things out" to do, my biggest takeaway is a self-administered prescription for the perfect panacea: 

Quality family time + chubby babies + roller coasters + the beach + SO MUCH ICE CREAM EVERY DAY. 

***It helps if you eat your ice cream with a personal gravy boat of butterscotch syrup, but that's really just a matter of opinion.