What I Learned on Our First Family Vacation

We went on our very first family vacation to Kauai, and it was… magical. Messy, imperfect, emotional — but magical all the same.

Between ocean swims, sandcastles, and quiet moments of healing, I was reminded that travel stretches us, mirrors who we are, and points us toward who we long to become. This reflection isn’t just about traveling with a toddler — it’s about finding presence, strong ground, and hope in the middle of life’s unpredictability.

Like clockwork, my period decided to arrive the day we left (of course). Lowen and Grant both got sick for most of the trip, and we were not prepared for that. We met up with my mom and Grant’s mom there — which brought its own layer of richness and complexity. Traveling with a toddler is one thing. Traveling with your mom and your mother-in-law at the same time? Double interesting.

And yet, woven through all of it — the fevers, the broken suitcase wheels, the moments where I was stretched too thin — there was sweetness. There was growth. There was love.

The Flight: Small Things That Carry Us

The flight itself was smooth, all 5.5 hours of it from Seattle. We checked three bags, carried on snacks and activities, and I wore Lowen through security. (I regretted the new sling — my shoulder still hasn’t forgiven me.) She wasn’t into the iPad, but she didn’t need it. She just needed connection — sticker books, coloring, snacks, our presence. She slept, she played, she walked the aisles while strangers smiled at her.

That felt like a lesson in itself: she didn’t need distraction. She needed engagement. She needed us.

The Hard Parts: When Sickness Finds You Anyway

On the third day, I could see it in her eyes — Lowen was coming down with something. I am not chill when my daughter gets sick; I am a ball of anxiety and worst-case scenarios. And yet, I sat with her, rocked her through the fever, listened to her congested breaths, and watched her slowly mend.

Then Grant caught it. And if I’m being honest, I have a lot less compassion when he’s sick. (Wife of the year, I know.) Still, sickness has a way of reminding you that control is an illusion. You can plan the perfect trip, pack the perfect snacks, and still, life shows up uninvited.

Glimpses of Healing

But there were beautiful moments too. I watched my mom dance — truly dance, free in her own skin, unburdened in a way I haven’t seen before. It stirred something deep in me, almost like a grief and a hope at the same time. Healing is possible. Freedom is possible. Even when it takes years to find.

The Mirror of Travel

Travel stretches me. It shows me who I am and who I want to be. And the truth is, I’m not the most patient person. I say I want to be present, I breathe deeply, I whisper to myself, take this in, hold it close — but part of me is still scanning for the next thing, still trying to hold it all together.

I want so badly to be less controlling, more relaxed, more free. Travel is a mirror, and sometimes I don’t love what I see. But I keep looking, because it’s the only way I’ll grow.

Strong Ground

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about embodiment. How often I move through the world disembodied — using my body without being connected to it. Travel, and even motherhood itself, have been pushing me back toward my ground. Strong ground. Feeling my feet, my breath, my presence.

And I keep circling back to community. The mom meetups I’ve been hosting lately have been saving me. While I was away, I realized just how much I need real friendships, real conversations, real shared life. That is what keeps me rooted. Not sales numbers. Not “success” in the way the world defines it.

The Bigger Picture

Sometimes I wonder if I’m trying too hard to create an online platform, to run a shop that might never really take off. Maybe these blogs will never be read. Maybe the sweatshirts will sell, maybe they won’t.

But here’s the truth: it’s the practice. It’s the showing up. It’s the hope.

Because even when the world feels like it’s burning, I believe in divine goodness. I believe love is stronger than fear. I believe healing is real. And I believe that maybe, just maybe, we’re here not to get it all right — but to keep tapping in, to keep moving toward freedom, to keep choosing connection and presence, even when it’s hard.

Our first family vacation wasn’t perfect. But it was honest. And it left me changed.

 

if you made it this far— thank you. It means more to me than you’ll ever know to share my heart with you.