Early Morning Walk

A story from our week at the Outer Banks.

Here he comes.

Though my eyes are still closed, I can tell two things: 1.) It's morning, but very early, and 2.) Tommy is standing beside the bed looking at me. I slowly open my eyes and confirm both of my suspicions. I reach for my cell phone and see that it's 5:55am. Dang. Despite the hour, I smile at my boy and watch a shy smile spread across his face in return. That right there is enough to make me drag myself out of bed.

We're spending a week in the Outer Banks with my mom's side of the family, and though at one time they were all up early to tend to us crazy cousins, now it's my turn (and soon some others!) to get up early with my boy. The house is silent as Tommy and I step into clothes, pour ourselves some juice to go, put our shoes on, and slip out the front door.

"Want to ride your bike to the beach buddy?"
"Yup."
"Alright, get your helmet, I'll carry your juice."

He hops on his bike, I buckle his helmet, and we're off on an adventure. He pedals down 8th avenue ahead of me, speeding up, slowing down to look back at me, turning around for a quick sip of juice, speeding back up. When we get to the walkway, he takes off ahead of me on foot while I push his bike through the sand. At the top, we're met with an unfamiliar sight: fog. The sky above is perfectly blue, but the beach and ocean are socked in so that we can only see about 200 feet down the beach on both sides. We take off our shoes and start walking.

Tommy runs ahead picking up shells, and then falls behind checking out clear jellyfish that have washed up onto the shore. We spot some ATV tracks, and he walks in the middle of one set while I walk in the middle of the other. He jumps off the little cliff the waves have made in the sand. We pick up a stray tennis ball that the golden retrievers missed and hand it back to their owner, sharing a friendly hello. We smile as we pass a happy couple in beach chairs drinking coffee.

Eventually we turn around and Tommy takes off running in the ATV tracks. Running running running. I pick up my pace so I can keep him from disappearing into the fog ahead. He runs by the couple in the beach chairs and says hi again. When I walk past, the woman looks at me with a knowing smile and says, "Is he four?" I smile back and say, "How'd you guess?"

There's just something about a four-year-old boy. Something about the way he looks at the world. The way he takes advantage of every minute of every day. The way he gets excited about doing even the simplest of things. I love having a four-year-old boy.

We get back to his bike, put his helmet on, and he looks up at me with a smile and says, "Mama, I had fun! Thanks for bringing me to the beach!" Then he hugs me tight before heading back down the walkway. And since pregnancy has made me weepy, my eyes mist over as I look at my growing boy and tell him that I had fun, too. I had fun, too.

As I walk behind him on the way back to the house, I know that this early morning adventure was the perfect way to start our day and our vacation. Thank goodness for little boys.


Beach pictures coming up soon!