The campground is virtually empty. I am actually surprised people have not moved in for the weekend. So far, I have only seen one guy come in with his Class C across the way. A young guy who seemed friendly enough when I was out walking Rabbit, right before it down poured.
Otherwise, there's something serene and calm about having an entire campground all to ourselves. I don't worry if the dog is barking while I vacuum or if Ty is screaming for a bottle. The squirrels don't care how much noise we are making. It's great. We go to the pool and no one is there. The entire pool is ours. I'm not complaining, it's actually kind of nice.
Our roads aren't busy. James speeds down the road on his bike, and I don't worry. He is aware of his surroundings and he knows to watch for cars, but he truly has free range.
I like having neighbors and I enjoy meeting new people, but I'm also enjoying my wide open spaces. There are full-timers at the campground, but we are all going about living our lives. It is quiet and peaceful.
John told me he did meet a few people at the pool today. My social husband will be acquainted with all the full-timers before summers out. The atmosphere with only the full-timers is very different then with the snow-bird, vacationing party goers.
I made a quick trip to Publix today for groceries, while John was with the boys at the pool. Our fridge was literally empty.
I observed others and occasionally feel very out of place, especially when I do not have the boys with me. There is a wide array of individuals; whom I find myself taking notice of. There's the typical older generation of ladies, who smile while going about their uneventful business. Then there's the younger generation, the eccentric couples and the young, tattooed, multi-colored haired moms, some are younger grandmoms, three generations of interesting folk.
The young mothers desperately try to control their children, holding on by a thread; willing their kids not to scream too loudly in the grocery store. The older ladies, watch, smile and nod with sympathetic understanding. I sense they are remembering the days when their little ones were small. Although, it was a long time ago, their memories are still fresh in their minds.
It's a familiar scene; I receive the same nods when I am shopping with my boys, piled high in the grocery cart. I am usually distracted as my five year old peppers me with questions. If I'm lucky the sixteen month old has a full belly, and is all smiles waving at people passing by. The same older ladies smile and watch as I go about my own business. I acknowledge many with a knowing smile, often forgetting that the boys are engaging with everyone who smiles at them. They are sweet, friendly and happy, a perfect combination for the grocery store ladies who adore little, fat checked boys. Ty gets every time.
I realize all moms have so much in common, coping and riding out the tantrum storms, both at home and in public. It’s a daily battle to maintain our sanity. As different as I feel from many of the young mothers, I see out in civilization, I am extremely emphatic. Managing our hungry, grumpy or sick children in public is always a challenge. People tend to stare with judgement, society's stigmas on how a mother should look regardless of how well her parenting skills are.
At the root, no matter how old we are or how we look, even the older ladies, privileged to be great grandmothers, as mothers we only see one another's struggles and we understand what it’s like, we have all experienced the same things. We are the same, yet different.
When I left the grocery store, a twenty something year old guy was taking a photo of my car. Perplexed I wondered why, until I saw the Jeep next to mine. How ironic! I took the same photo of the Jeeps; they are same, yet different.
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