"Vacation" revisited

Slipper snails hitching a ride on a moon snail. August 2024.

Almost three years ago, I endured one of the least restful "vacations" of my life.

My husband and I thought we were being clever when we booked a mid-fall beach trip with our then-toddler and newborn, but it turned out we spent two weeks living "a corrupted version of our regular life, only with less childcare and more sand." The time was so interminable, so exhausting, so the opposite of refreshing and renewing, that we have not attempted a full beach trip since.

That is, until now.

This year, with a rising kindergartner and a toddler, we closed out August with a solid week of incontrovertible summer fun. This trip had everything: perfect sunny weather, gorgeous beach views, evening ice cream trips, shoreline nature discoveries ... all with children who use real toilets, eat regular food, sleep in adult-sized beds, and know how to (occasionally) entertain themselves.

The circumstances were certainly more ideal than for our beleaguered trial balloon of a trip in 2021. But let's not skimp on credit; my husband and I also learned a thing or two along the way that built our parenting confidence and enabled a few more hours minutes of relaxation than were previously possible.

I considered what I, seasoned mother who managed to sit uninterrupted in a beach chair for 30 minutes, start and finish the same book in one week, and complete at least two adult conversations over the course of the trip, would say to the harried, despondent, postpartum version of myself from the not-too-distant past. I'd pour that poor girl a G&T, put my arm around her shoulders, and say:

  • Whenever it's possible to stay within walking distance of the beach, do.
  • If it's possible to establish a high "capable adult":"zonked kid" ratio within your traveling party, do.
  • Avail yourself of every single hose or detachable shower head to de-sand your children.
  • Don't overstay your vacation. Or, to put it another way, make sure to stay the exact amount of time that helps you leave wanting more.
  • Children are always intense ...
  • ... but you will grow better prepared over time to anticipate and mitigate that intensity.
  • It might seem impossible right now, but I can state with my hand on my heart: Vacations can—and will—get more vacation-y again. Even with your kids there.

Unlike with my previous beach "vacation," I don't have to scrounge for positive or enjoyable memories of this most recent one. My older child, a true beach lover since his infancy, was in fine form this trip, making the most of exploring and splashing for as long as we let him stay outside. Of particular interest this year was wave jumping, with the ability to go farther out than he ever had before (with a grown-up, of course) and leap over every wave that rolled his way. His constant glee would have given me joy enough, but he also commentated the entire experience, with my favorite moment being: "Oh man. Look at that one. It's tremendous!"

What deepened his confidence this year? Age? Height? Ten months of swim lessons? Likely all of the above, alchemized by time, because with every new experience his capacity—for risk, courage, wonder—grows, and he is more equipped to face the unpredictable waves and accept the adventure each one offers.

Can you blame me for wanting to borrow his catchphrase for my parenting journey? To say with each twist or stumble or discovery, "Oh man. Look at that. It's tremendous!" And it will be, because with each wild jump, I am landing in a new place.


Prayer #402: Limpet

I will not cling to what I once believed immutable, my curiosity calcified.

I will not cling to where I landed, just that once, as if I do not have the power to move again.

I will not cling to who I was or who you were, for all at once, like the sudden glint of a half-buried shell, I glimpse who we can become and I run toward us, shouting, eager to excavate the future.

Amen.