My last Tahoe trip of the season is always bitter sweet. Sweet because, well, because we are at Tahoe. By the end of the season my kids have grown new courage, new adoration, and possess a healthy understanding of how it's all going to go down. We will arrive, mom will carry an ant load of stuff down to the beach, kids will play in sand and water approximately 5 minutes before complaining of hunger. Mom will sunscreen, feed, get kids ready. Then, mom will dive in. This pattern will persist throughout the day of filling up floaties, deflating floaties, feeding kids, cleaning kids, re lathering kids, swimming out to the buoys. Life will be demanding and just about the most beautiful existence on earth for roughly 6 hours. Then, mom will pack up and listen to her book on CD while babies sleep peacefully in the back seat despite the unfathomable amount of sand still plastered to their little behinds, and the sweaty sunscreen still irritating their eyes. Life will be serene and perfect.
Bitter for the obvious reasons: last Tahoe trip of the season, all the work etc. The last trip is also bitter because it never fails that the very moment that my kids are enjoying themselves the most immensely of the entire summer, always ends up being the very moment it's time to leave for the year.
Sweet because when we get home, I will unpack the colossal size bag of floaties/life jackets/ blankets/ umbrellas/cooler that has been living in my trunk for the past three months, vacuum approximately seventeen pounds of sand out of my back seat, and pack it all up till next year.
Farewell Tahoe! We love you, and we'll see you next year!
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