I did something really stupid today, and I don’t know why I did it. Perhaps it’s the Cryderman gene responsible for weird spontaneity, the same one that, last year, compelled my cousin to pen a letter to her daughter from the tooth fairy explaining that her four day delay on leaving a dollar was because she was held up…in jail (which, for the record, isn’t true. My cousin’s a good girl. One of the best).

It was a serene breakfast moment. Brett was feeding Nella at the counter and Lainey was happily marrying her bagel halves into a cream cheese sandwich at her table. I went to refill my coffee cup and noticed the gorilla mask Brett used to scare me the night before was lying on the counter (that’s another story).

I don’t know why I did it. I should have thought it through. But I didn’t. I put the mask on and walked toward Lainey’s table and roared at her.

I roared. It was definitely more of a cute bear cub roar than a ferocious lion king roar, but still…I roared. I wish someone would have stopped me, really. I thought it would be funny. I thought the saddle shoes and the coffee cup I was holding would most certainly give it away. That I wasn’t a gorilla but just a funny mom.

It went badly. Very. There was this look of terror I’ll never forget, even though I only saw it through the blurred vision a rubber eye hole with fur offers. My stomach dropped, and I whipped the mask off so fast, my cheek got rubber burned.

Why, oh why, did I think a four-year-old would laugh at a gorilla mask?

There were tears. I ran to hold her, squeezed her tight, told her I was sorry, promised her I’d never do it again, and inside scolded myself for being so thoughtless.

Brett, unscathed, scooped Nella another bite of food, flashed me a look and calmly asked, “And you were thinking that would be hilarious?”

We learn.
I did.

But I made it up to her.

Determined to make the best of a short sliver of sunshine today, I loaded up the car and drove. I had no idea where we were going and I changed my mind three times on our drive. Beach, no; park, no; fruit market, no. So we continued south, past Old Naples, until we landed in the parking lot of our Botanical Gardens. A welcoming scene greeted us: a crew of volunteers in summery straw hats pulled weeds and pruned flowers and smiled at us as we made our way to the entrance.

It was humid and buggy and I quickly regretted my choice of jeans, but there was a breeze, two happy girls, and some overcast skies that finally proved useful.

We forgot our bathing suits for the fountains, but that didn’t stop the woman at the beach yesterday. So, we stripped down and frolicked. Well, the girls did. My clothes stayed on and frolick, I did not. Okay, I frolicked.

Nella likes to climb and investigate solo.

She does not appreciate Sister’s assistance.

But she does smile every time Lainey tries to take a picture with my phone. It makes me swoon.

I witnessed several moments today that made me near breathless with humble adoration for these two little spirits whose souls are interwined not only by common genes but by moments and memories and this obvious security they feel in each others’ presence.

It just happens. Right when I’m digging for goldfish crackers or rolling up my pant leg for the fiftieth time. I’ll catch them locked in this moment of sisterhood. Lainey knows just how to smile to make her laugh. And little sister knows just how to laugh to make Lainey smile.

Gorilla mask’s got nothin’ on that.

We stayed just long enough to wear them out and run through an entire trial-sized bottle of overpriced organic mosquito repelling oil, the only one the gift shop sold.

But again, it was worth it. Because it always is.

The gorilla mask is packed away deep in the Halloween closet, and we are preparing for more rain, more crafts, more mushrooms in our woods.

And more rainy days mean more moments in my kitchen gettin’ fresh with a sharp-dressed man.

He’s a Scentsy brick, in case you wondered.

*****

The $50 gift certificate winner for Amber Silva’s Stella & Dot store is Comment # 373, Evelyn Louise: “I got down here, saw that quiet water, and it looked so inviting. I jumped in, clothes and all, and floated on my back in the rain. It was amazing.”
Seriously, best quote ever.
Now I want to find a body of water in which to float fully clothed in the rain.
Heading to the beach for a week…perhaps I’ll find that body of water and a rainy sky.

Evelyn Louise, congratulations. Please e-mail your info to kellehamptonblog@comcast.net, and you will be soon be sportin’ some new jewels.

*****

Have a great weekend!

Today, we celebrated summer.

Balls to the walls, Baby.

Nella woke up Thursday night probably eight times. Low grade fever, teething, who knows. If you added it all up, I’m sure I spent a good two hours slumped over the railing of her crib with my eyes closed, patting her back and praying, for the love of God, that she wouldn’t cry when I made the decision to finally withdraw my hand (gradually, of course, because any mom knows a full-on patting session must first decrease to a slower pat, then slower, then slow plus light, then lighter–until your fingertips are barely grazing their back. Then and only then can you quietly pull away with the chance they won’t realize you’ve dismissed yourself).

She woke up for good when the sun was barely spilling its light into our bedroom window, and for a moment–in my squint-eyed, slow-to-rise wake-up mode–I considered canceling our plans for a day trip. A cup of coffee later though, I was psyched. We were off.

From Naples, if you wind north on Bonita Beach Boulevard, you’ll first pass a stretch of stately beach houses on your left–many of them empty and for sale–their faces bedecked with double staircases, ornate balconies and terra cotta colored stucco. Just past the bridge at Lover’s Key, the scene shifts a bit as opulence fades into vast and vacant lots, natural beach front and finally, the retro vacation vibe of Fort Myers Beach.

Yellow retro suit, Popina Swimwear.

Fort Myers Beach is a nice daycation destination, different from Naples and reminiscent of my childhood memories of Florida, like visiting my grandma and grandpa’s Airstream at the K.O.A. or shuffling through tourist shops in Tarpon Springs, in search of the perfect fisherman’s hat.

Old resorts, their pink and mint green paint faded from the sun, pepper the beach while shell shops and fan-cooled beach bars fill in the gaps. There’s the Dolphin Inn, the Shipwreck Motel, Lani Kai and The Seawatch–their rooms and restaurants filled with the same vacationers who come back every year.

We (my friend Andrea and I) found a quaint cafe, The Heavenly Bisquit, hidden between a t-shirt shop and a parking lot, and we inhaled the world’s best BLT–thick strips of crisp bacon sandwiched between fresh tomotoes and buttery grilled bread–on the front porch because that’s how it’s done in the summertime.

And for the rest of the day we watched from our blanket, outstretched in the cold shaded sand under the pier, as our girls braved waves and traded mermaid tails.

You like summer?
Say hello to the beach side ice cream truck, also known as a stocked freezer fastened to a bike and outfitted with a real palm tree.

How ’bout them summer apples?

Outside the beach, the sun scorched this touristy town so much my feet actually burned through the wood soles of my sandals as I stood on the parking lot pavement just long enough to unbuckle Nella from her carseat. But the camp we set up under the pier was the perfect escape–cool and damp and close enough to the water’s edge, Nella could crab crawl a few feet to rinse off.

Going to the beach is not in any way an easy task with two toddlers and a baby. In fact, just visualizing our entrance is a bit embarrassing–dragging towels and bags and sand toys, loaded up in a beach cart that might as well be a grocery cart; dropping random shovels and pails; steering wandering kids; hoisting camera cases and diaper bags, dodging “Mam, could you use some help?” offers with forced smiles and fake “No, we got this” responses. It’s a lot of work. But then there’s this.

…which is undeniably worth it.

*****

Looking forward to some weekending.

And I’m thrilled to introduce a fabulous summer sponsor, eSWAK.com, the original camp care package company.

Know any kids off to summer camp this year? Here is an awesome, easy way to let them know you are thinking of them and give them the opportunity to have a little more fun. You visit the site, choose a care package (or let them create one for you), customize it, and eSWAK takes care of the rest. And if you don’t know any kids off to summer camp, how about creating camp in your own home?

Our Teen Spa Party pack arrived the other day and, knowing what was inside, Lainey was making big plans for our day before the scissors even kissed the cardboard to open the box.

Our pack was stocked with everything we needed for the spa experience–nail polish, remover, files, pedicure sandals, brushes, nail stickers, etc.

We upped the ante with a homemade oatmeal mask, a British accent and the offer for some apple “kid wine.”

Sister eats the cucumbers.

And ten minutes after rinsing off the last remains of crusted oatmeal, she wanted to do it all over again, so we packed everything up and headed over to Nana Kate’s to repeat the fun with her grandkids.

We were completely impressed with eSWAK’s package, we have plenty of goodies left over for more fun, and we are so excited they’re on board as a new sponsor. Make someone at camp happy or bring camp to your own home this summer (erect a living room tent!)

There are plenty more packages for all ages, both boys and girls, to check out.

One lucky reader will win a $200 gift certificate from Sealed With a Kiss, the Original Care Package Company. How to register: Email name, phone number and email address to bpetty@eswak.com. Value is limited to $200 retail value including shipping. Everyone who registers will receive a coupon code for 10% off shipping. Must register by 11:59PM (PST) July 5th. Winner will be notified on July 10 via email.

Have a wonderful weekend! Hoping to make up for last night…keeping my fingers crossed.