There’s something magical about watching your children experience the ocean for the first time. It’s like their wonder wakes up something in you all over again.
We landed in Santa Rosa Beach on April 14th and wasted no time jumping into vacation mode. We piled into our golf cart and cruised about six miles down to Seaside to soak in the views and get our first taste of that powdery white sand. I’ll admit—I was nervous. I thought one of the littles might be unsure about the sand, maybe even hate it. But the second their toes touched it? Instant joy. No hesitation. They dug in and never looked back.
Brody immediately stepped up to big brother duty—teaching Lane and Chase how to build sandcastles and search for seashells. Seeing them all together, doing the simple things that make childhood sweet, filled my heart in a way I didn’t even know I needed.
Then came the moment—the kind that stays with you forever.
Chase had fallen asleep on my chest, the ocean breeze brushing my face, while Lane and Brody dipped their toes in the water and jumped over waves with Michael. I sat there, still and full, with the sun warming my skin and the soft weight of my baby in my arms. Tears filled my eyes. This was it. This was what the hard days, the bumps in the road, the moments of doubt were leading to—this family, this joy, this feeling. A quiet knowing that I was exactly where I was meant to be.
Lane found a feather that had floated down to his feet—a small thing, but not to us. It was a “God wink” from Hallie Phillips, the beautiful soul for whom Hallie’s House was named. Her mom, Angie, wrote a book called Feathers Matter, and finding that feather felt like Hallie (and my mom, and Jaisen) were there with us—watching our babies play, giggle, and nap under the Florida sun. A reminder that we’re never as far from our angels as we think.
Of course, it wouldn’t be a real beach day without a little chaos. Chase had a blast throwing beach toys into the ocean—monster trucks, squish balls, reusable water balloons, you name it. We recovered most of them. And Lane and Chase took it upon themselves to bury Daddy’s legs in sand like true beach pros.
At one point, both little ones napped on me at the same time. The sound of the waves, the weight of their sleepy bodies, and the warmth of the sun—it was pure therapy for my momma heart.
Even now, the boys still talk about the beach. I can see how much it meant to them. And honestly, I hope we do this every year. I hope this becomes a tradition they look forward to—something they remember as part of their childhood magic.
Michael summed it up perfectly. As he watched the boys play and sat back in the sand with a smile, he said, “This is what we do it for.” He’s right. This is what all the long days and hard work are for—to give our kids these memories, this joy, this deep knowing that they are loved.
