A New Kind of Summer in New Brunswick

When I look back on my summers growing up, most of the memories that come to mind happened on the beach in New Brunswick. Though we mostly lived far away, summer has always meant returning to our family’s home province in the east coast of Canada. Even in my adult years – spent mostly gallivanting around the world – I’ve managed to return home almost every single summer.

This summer was no exception. What was unique about it was that, for the first time, I was bringing home my own baby boy, Phoenix.

For many years, my family has daydreamed about what it would be like to bring my theoretical future kids to the same beach where I was raised. To play in the little pools between sandbars, searching for hermit crabs and making sand castles. To forage in the garden and stroll along the cottage-lined neighbourhood. To make memories with relatives and long-time family friends.

I am happy to report that our recent 3.5 weeks in New Brunswick were all that – and even more. Because what I couldn’t know before becoming a mom was how deeply satisfying it would be to see Phoenix simply exist so happily in my little slice of paradise.

My mom had spent the last several months scouring thrift shops and garage sales for clothes, books and toys for Phoenix. She may have gone slightly overboard with her purchases – there was no way I could fit it all in our suitcases – but Phoenix was absolutely giddy to discover all the new toys. While he especially loved a few larger items like the push-tricycle and Paw Patrol firetruck (things that, sadly, cannot fit into our Big Blue Bus), his favorite game of all was probably ball hockey with the vacuum cleaner, courtesy of his Grumps.

Much to my delight, the activity Phoenix seemed to prefer was visiting our family garden. I’ve long harboured romantic images of my future child delightedly picking fresh produce from the garden and being genuinely excited to eat them, but I didn’t expect my picky, veggie-suspicious toddler to be into it this year. But he was! Once he discovered that gardens produce things you can munch on, he was hooked. Every chance he got he dragged one of us to the garden, pointed at the plants with the simple directive, “more!” and we delivered such delicacies as beans, peas, carrots, and cucumbers. He even tasted kale, basil, mint, chives, and the stem of an acorn squash! Phoenix would chew and stash the veggies in his cheek just like a squirrel so that he was pretty much snacking on garden food all day long.

The only time he seemed not to be snacking was when he was actually eating a meal. Mealtime became one of his grandparents’ favorite activities. They loved watching Phoenix’ zest for food (come by honestly) and his healthy appetite – especially in the mornings. Where are you putting it all? became a phrase frequently uttered in our sun room or back deck. The only thing Phoenix possibly loved more than breakfast was corn on the cob!

Between our mealtime marathons, we were pretty much always at the beach. While Phoenix was cautious at first both with the sand and the water, he slowly grew to love his beach afternoons. His mama loved them too – Grand-maman and Grumps often whisked him off to play in the sand or sea and I got to sit in a beach chair and actually relax! It was wonderful to watch my baby boy bond with my parents, as they introduced him to tide pools teeming with life and showed him all the things you can make with wet sand!

Honestly, that was the best part – watching Phoenix bond with my family. He got to spend time with relatives on the beach, in our backyard, and at our annual family reunion (where he was a big hit with the older kids). Almost every evening,my parents bathed Phoenix and read him a couple bedtime stories. Then, after I nursed and cuddled him a little bit, we would race out into the living room to have a giant family huddle with the whole group. Phoenix learned to dish out kisses to each and every one of us – even if there were extra guests at the house – and our group hug quickly became a beloved family ritual.

In my nomadic adult years, being home in New Brunswick has come to represent a chance to slow down, to restore and relax, and to refill my cup with self care, routine, and community before heading back out into the wider world. Having a baby meant that this year’s self-care goals were a little more modest, a little more neglected. Being home was definitely less relaxing for me this year – which is why I loved my evenings in New Brunswick even more than usual. They were a time to connect with my parents or have a bit of girl time with cousins or neighbours. They were a time to sit in the sun room watching the sunset, meditating and reading spirituality books borrowed from the library; or for an evening family sunset walk. I soaked up those evenings so much that I’d end up going to bed much later than I’m used to – and yet, I’d wake up in the morning feeling refreshed, calm and happy.

I can only conclude that being in New Brunswick – and all the nature, family, and self care that it encompasses – fills my cup.

We left New Brunswick a few weeks ago already, but my cup is still overflowing. We are on an extended overseas trip – to Toronto, Greece, France, and New York – and will return to our bus life in Mexico next month. I’m not sure what the coming months and year will bring, but one thing I feel ever-more certain of is this – summers are not summer without time in New Brunswick. While bus life might be our primary lifestyle, a life without New Brunswick isn’t a life at all.