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Going on vacation always makes me very introspective. Ideally, it's a time to get away from normal life just when normal life is starting to grind. Even more ideally, it's a time when I re-realize that I really do enjoy my normal life and I'm excited to get back to it.

Just returned from a week-long San Diego beach vacation with all 38 members of my family (parents, sibs, spouses, and all kids of sibs and spouses). We hadn't all been together for 4 years, since #8 (Joecinogen) left for "the mish," before my parents left for their 3 year "mish," and before 6 of the 20 grandkids were born. So it was pretty monumental.

Although many awesome things happened there, I think one of my very favorite had nothing to do with me or my family:

Wednesday morning, I walked to the beach with Blue, Giz, and niece "Kawenakolina." Where concrete met sand, I noticed a small family (mom, dad, son). The son (about 20 y.o.?) was in a wheelchair, his legs limp---his whole body limp. They were just standing/sitting there observing the ocean from afar. I briefly thought about how hard it would be to be a parent taking my child to the ocean in a wheelchair---and how it would be so hard that you couldn't enjoy the normal ocean hoopla---I was sad for them for a second, and then got distracted by Giz, who at this point was hightailing it across the sand and running straight for waves.

About 15 minutes later, while jumping waves with Blue and Giz, I looked to my right and saw an amazing scene: "Dad" was standing in a semi-kneeling position (leg jutted out in front, with stabilizing leg in back) while "son" was propped up on dad's knee, the waves swirling around his legs. There was no talking---just standing in the waves. I looked behind and saw his wheelchair ditched several feet back in the dry sand, with the mom looking on, letting father and son have their moment together. Goosebumps.

I also saw some not-so-touching things, like a woman rollerblading in a string bikini (for the love!), a "zebra"/burro in Tijuana with whom we had our pic snapped (do they wash the paint off the poor animals ever?), the distinct difference one inch makes when you go through an iron whirlygig at a border crossing, too many jumbo-tron boob jobs, enough lower-back tattoos for a lifetime, wealth beyond compare in LaJolla, poverty beyond compare in Tijuana, a few somewhat-interesting episodes of Project Runway, Giz trying to outwit every impending stair-doom blockade, and a million flies, 99 of which I killed in one afternoon. [Diversion: I actually got a little obsessive about fly-swatting. It began out of dire necessity and then it became a game. Yes, a game. I killed 4 in one blow! And 3 in one blow more than once. Yes, tis true. After an hour, I started calling myself the "Fly Whisperer" because twice I took a napkin to a healthy fly and merely pinched---no swatter involved. I caught two flies with just my stealthy hand and a napkin!]

Highlights of the trip included:

*Laughing my guts out on the roller coaster at Belmont Park. I thought it was going to be totally whimpy. I was so caught by surprise at the hardcore characteristics of this mousetrap. I couldn't do anything but laugh so loud. It was the best therapy I've ever had. Just ask Ben and Becca and Jon. Meanwhile, Big Ben had been smashed by the metal safety bar---said he thought he might pass out from the excruciating pain caused to his thigh. He said my laughter right behind his ears was the only thing that, and I quote, "kept me going" (meaning alive).

*My girls modeling their darling hand-embroidered Tijuana dresses. That was well worth the border trauma (I forgot my I.D. and me and blue and ben were separated from jon and giz who were separated from joe and julianne. and we only had one cell phone. being "lost" in tijuana without i.d. is not a comforting feeling.)

*Late night discussions with family members. Some very intense and rollicking. It's awesome that families can have hugely divergent opinions---even about important matters---and still be fabulous friends.

*Dad's delicious smoothies. He fine-tuned this skill in Madagascar. In fact, all of the food was divine. Which is why I'm still feeling bloated.

*Pete's professional water color lesson. You should see my mad color chart. It's fetchin' awes.

*Listening to the waves. Boogie boarding. Sand beneath toes. Italian ice on the boardwalk.

*Chilling with the fam, and some awesome girl outings with my s-i-l.

*Figuring my life out for the next 50 years, or 20 minutes, whichever the case may be.