Sailing

A few weekends ago we had a little family outing. Brian was starting to get the shakes from going an entire summer without sailing so we loaded into grease lightening and drove to the lake. When we got there, Silas waited patiently as Dada got the boat ready.  

Side note: it was about 12:30 p.m. at this point: nap time approaching but still safely in the distance. 

 Finally, after retrieving the boat when it broke free from the thread Brian was using to hold it to the dock, it was time to climb aboard!

  

Almost 1:00p.m. and no lunch or nap yet. Silas is holding steady.

The wind caught in the sail with a thump and they were off. Picture the cool breeze and warm sun hitting your face with no sounds but the gentle waves lapping the boat. Ahhhh sailing.

 

We're rounding 1:15p.m. I kept thinking I could hear the Jaws theme playing in the distance.

I was watching from the shore with Mash in the stroller taking pictures, basking in the beauty of the moment. But after a while I started to get nervous about how far from shore the boat was getting. You see, Brian agreed to stay right by the shore so if the boat flipped I could jump in the water and get Silas if Brian was knocked unconcious. You have to be prepared for those sorts of things. So naturally I start yelling across the water and waving at Brian to get him to come closer. After having a small argument about if it is ok to land the tiny motorless boat on the deserted beach 10 feet past the "no boats allowed" signs, Brian finally caved in and the boys came safely ashore to eat lunch. (He likes to follow rules).

It's now 1:45: meltdown threat is at level orange.

Here we are enjoying our delectable picnic.

I forgot to mention that while I walked along the shore diligently watching the sailors, Mash decided to remedy her week-long constipation. So while I changed that gem of a diaper and her clothes, Brian took Silas to play in the water. He loved it.

And here's where it all fell apart. Although I'm sure his blood sugars were making a valiant effort to come back to normal levels, they just didn't make it in time. That combined with it being 2:45p.m. (hours past naptime) and Dada mentioning that it was time to get out of the water, the boy just didn't have the coping skills. And this happened.

  

Since our naked screaming toddler was running away to find a better life, we decided it was time to go. It was a little stressful trying to figure out how to get the boat back to the dock, pack up the picnic, poopie mess, baby, and naked runaway. I'm sure it was especially hard for Brian who was frantically thinking about how the naked screaming toddler would call attention to his criminal boat parking activity. But we managed to pull it together and we all made it home in one piece. It was a fun trip. I'm thankful for times like these.

Another side note related to sailing: Brian told me last week during one of our deep road trip conversations that one of his life long wishes is to be able to sail away and never come back when he gets close to dying. That way we wont have to worry about burying him or having a funeral. He said he wants to tell everyone goodbye and sail off into the sunset. I asked, but what if you don't die? After a long thoughtful pause he said, well I guess I'll come back home. 
That man.