Family. Vacation.

My eyes burn.  Sting with the blur of over-exposure.  Sun, so much glorious sun.  Shining off the aquamarine sea.  Reflecting from the white surface of our boat.  Twinkling back from Ben's eyes.  "My favorite part," he said as he watched the water splash in great, white droplets off the boat's sides, "is seeing the boat make waves in the water."  His face unintentionally communicated his genuine delight with that smile--the one that barely turns the corners of his mouth up in amusement and focus and sheer joy.

We saw dolphins today.  Three of them arching and slinking through the waves in magical synchrony.  And manta rays.  Dozens of manta rays flapping their triangle fins through the water and then under our boat and, further off, leaping out of the water in a frenzy of bird-imitation.  We watched fish swarm our tidbits of bread and exclaimed at the blue-footed boobies perching on the rocks above our boat.

On the way back to the marina, I held a sleepy but contented Abby on my lap--her lax body wrapped in a warm yellow towel in my arms, her eyes open just enough to not miss anything.

The opposite of craziness and over-commitment is vacation, and we're enjoying every minute we have to play with the kids and catch up with Josh's family and observe the birds eating the papaya in the surrounding trees and note the changing intensity of the waves beating the shore just below our villa.

The kids adore their cousins and the ability to spend most of the day in their bathing suits.  We grown-ups adore the pool-time and the casual conversation accompanied by fresh guacamole and salsa and margaritas and Grandma's limitless capacity for games of Go Fish with the grandkids.  And we all enjoy the break in routine and the time to simply exist, together.

Family vacation is a gift of time and of sharing each other and of walking a few days of the journey together.

Thanks, Grandpa & Grandma.