Pismo is one of the most wonderfulest places in the world. I love going there and sitting out on the beach, watching the waves roll in and the lifted Chevy's roll by. You can hear the quads in the background as they tear through the dunes, competing with the seagulls squawking on the beach. It is pleasantly warm in November and the sunsets can make you cry with their beauty. This is where we love to spend our Thanksgivings.
This year it was up for debate on whether or not we would be able to make it since I would 36 weeks pregnant. However, Mark ensured our trip by getting us a toyhauler. This is something that we had been saving up for the last three years, so it wasn't by any means a quick or unthoughout purchase. Since my ready access to the bathroom was now guarenteed, we were off for five days of bliss.
I have to admit this trip was a bit hard for me. I feel so selfish for even saying so since I have been blessed with the greatest gift of all, but having to stay at camp 24-7, watching everyone else drive off on their quads was a bit hard to deal with. I wanted to join in on the fun, but there is no way I would ever in a million years risk anything happening to my baby. Thus, I was stuck at camp working on my DRDPs (icky, icky, icky work stuff).
Although this trip brought forth my jealous streak, it also reminded me of what a wonderful life I want my child to have. Pismo is where they will get to spend their Thanksgiving, where they will have a chance to play in the sand and soak up the sun, where they will get to experience eating deep fried turkey in a lawn chair and where they will be exposed to our love of riding. It is a place where they will be exposed to our family traditions.