I’ve been on a bit of a quest lately to collect magical moments. A dear friend suggested that I be a little more open-minded about what those moments look like, and I took her advice. This open-mindedness means looking for adventure, and saying yes more often.

Last night, we went to Grafton Lakes State Park. It’s just a tiny bit longer than I like to drive, but it was the last day of summer vacation while also being the first day of school (since we homeschool, we can have our cake and eat it, too). The day called for a special ending.

We got there as we often do, with less than an hour to swim. The lifeguards go off-duty at 5:45 p.m., which on a summer evening, is a total rip-off. The kids played in the glow of the setting sun. Seven flirted with the cold water. He’d run a few steps in, then dash out again, until he figured out that plowing through the shallows on all fours with a huge smile on his face was the best way to go.

The Chaplain offered to take a shift by the water, and I sat in a beach chair not far off, reading a book. When the lifeguards called the fifteen minute warning, I joined my family for just a few more moments with my feet in the water.

Nearby, a mother and her daughter were playing with a contraption that produced enormous, foot-wide bubbles. The sun caught them as they floated lazily over the water and each undulating surface glowed. The prismatic colors were mesmerizing. I grabbed my camera, but there was no putting that moment on a memory card. The bubbles transfixed me in person. I knew the pictures wouldn’t do them any justice.

We let the kids build in the sand for a little while longer before we left for the evening. We stopped by Stewarts for ice cream on the way home. Our local Stewarts is already out of my favorite summer flavor, Mounds of Coconut, but this Stewarts near the lake still had some. I ordered a couple of hand- packed pints as we picked up ice cream cones for everyone.

Two suggested we order pizza. I have ordered pizza from Stewarts before. To put it mildly, it has nothing on their ice cream. “But Mom, you won’t be happy when we get home.” (she knows me.) “It’s already late, and we’re a long way from home. If we get it now, we don’t have to worry about dinner when we get back.”

I ordered the pizza. It was as bad as it always is, but Two was right. Getting home at bedtime with a bunch of whiny, hungry kids is the fastest way to undo a magical moment that I know of.

I read a bunch of books this summer on mindfulness, acceptance, and what to do with shame. When I took a break from that genre, in many ways it felt like my brain snapped back to status quo. I’m still trying to figure out how to have a baseline state of mind that isn’t so… tetchy. Somehow, I managed to do that last night.

Above, a magical moment from yesterday successfully captured by Three.