“It kind of smells like Florida.”

“Oh, Mom! Look at all the tiny mugs!” he exclaimed. We were in an airport gift shop on our layover; a basket full of Elvis-look-a-like rubber ducks sat on the floor by our feet. 

Yes, that’s where he learned what shot glasses were. No, he didn’t use his souvenir money to bring one home.

Part 1: Texas

We landed late at night, embraced a time change in Dallas, and watched a (thankfully) inactive cockroach as we waited outside for our car rental. 

“It kind of smells like Florida,” I said. 

“It feels like the Amazon section of the aquarium to me,” a son replied. We all nodded in collective agreement.

What an experience to get to spend a week in Texas. We have dear family who live there, family we’ve FaceTimed many times. We’ve seen their house and pool in the screen background, and somehow, suddenly, we were there, inside that background, swimming in their pool and walking around their home. It’s a unique treasure to step into someone else’s life for a few days. 

Six cousins played basketball, tagged along on school drop-offs, and spent plenty of time jumping in the pool after school. We journeyed for late-night apple pie flavoured snow cones, and attended our first pep rally and high school football game. I experienced my first estate sale, a total immersion into the fascinating origin story of where all the stuff at the thrift store comes from. It was treasure hunting at its finest. I brought a globe home inside my suitcase… which is beautiful, but also best for the Indian Ocean to permanently face the back wall. 

We walked dreamy little neighbourhoods late at night and went out for Mexican food with family and friends – I learned to always order the fajitas and never the salad, and that my husband usually knows best when choosing from a menu. You’d think after 20 years of marriage I’d finally remember that fact.

We visited with sweet grandparents over donuts and giant feasts of hamburgers and BBQ, and fed horses in their backyard. We scoured consignment stores for pairs of little boy Nike shoes, found discount items at outlet stores, ate Blue Bell ice cream instead of Haagen Dazs, and successfully and covertly dropped a premeditated “Ya’ll” to the drive-through guy at the Whataburger (to get a burger that we split 6 ways).

And, of course, as a grand finale on the way to catch our second flight to Florida, we finally crossed ‘A stop at Buccees’ off our travel bucket list – a 60,000 sq. foot convenience store filled with the most snack options, souvenirs, and excellent road stop bathrooms I’ve ever seen. 

They had me at the toasted pecans.

Part 2: Florida

Last year, Hurricane Ian evacuated us partway through our stay. Through torrential rain and plenty of lightning, we drove to Orlando, where we grocery-shopped at the Publix, with about a thousand other people, before hunkering down for two days. Tornado warnings and lots of windows by children’s beds in the upstairs of where we were staying meant mattresses were moved to hallways and bathrooms for the night. 

It’s good that my city-living apartment babies have grown up sleeping in small and sometimes odd spaces. I tucked one son beside the toilet, with his sudoku book and zero complaints. 

We watched old episodes of Shark Tank for two days, where every son of mine decided to devote their future life to entrepreneurship, and we frequently checked the news. We had seven candles from the dollar store ‘just in case,’ that we gratefully only used for ‘hurricane, turning to tropical storm’ ambiance. We also were fully aware ours was a different story than many others could tell that week.

So, this year, our arrival and stay in Florida seemed uneventful in comparison. But, it was the uneventful one is super pleased with. 

I love the beach. And the warm sun. I especially love both of them together.

Finding sand dollars at my feet and seeing a wide variety of fish swimming around always makes me quietly shriek with glee. Don’t even get me started on the majestic pelicans dive-bombing the waters and the little sandpipers on the shore. 

God’s beach-theme creation work feels beautifully over the top. 

I love big waves, too, even though they swallowed a pair of our favourite goggles. I can’t fault them; they were doing what they were made to do, and children were learning the value of ‘holding on to stuff tightly.’ 

There were cousin football games and smores on the beach. Sandcastles, swimming pools, and many mom-packed picnic boxes for ten. Cheez-Its will forever taste like Florida.

Rashguards and sunscreen were mandatory. 

There were hula hoop and belly flop competitions, swim races, and many congratulatory coupons for free ice creams and snow cones. Shark tooth necklaces were even crafted with Redbeard the Pirate. 

Our boys were so sad the day the cousins had to fly home before the rest of us. It’s hard to say, “See you in such a long time” to special people. Our parental play was to distract them with a day trip to the roller coasters. 

Now, I’m not too fond of roller coasters. I also don’t physically tolerate adrenaline rushes super well anymore. But I do like my kids, so I metaphorically buckled up, got on The Cheetah, The Scorpion, and The Cobra, and then literally buckled up again. 

I also closed my eyes on every upside-down part and gripped every bar and handle far too tightly. 

We all had a fun day, but on the way home, my daredevil son, with a genetically weak stomach, finally had his coaster rides catch up with him. 

“I don’t feel good, Mom,” he mournfully announced while we drove over miles and miles of bridge. I frantically searched for a solution. My swiped airplane barf bag was totally in my other backpack. 

In desperation, he took off his hat and barfed right inside of it, and I was so proud. 

I said, “Way to save the rental van!” 

His dad said, “This bridge goes on here for a few more miles; I can’t pull over, guys…” 

His brothers said, “We’re never wearing that hat again.” 

But I had one detergent tab and a hotel sink.

We still have the hat, and one brother who will wear it again while I smile and the other brothers cringe. 

On the last night of our vacation, my youngest asked sorrowfully, “When we get home, can we all still sleep together in one room and watch late-night TV?” 

Two brothers arguing over a shared bedsheet stopped momentarily to stare at him.

“I’m going to miss it all, too,” I said as I squeezed him.

The next day, with rolling suitcases in hand and in typical me fashion, I said, “How can you be in one place today and an entirely different place tomorrow? Those early pioneers in their wagons would fall straight over if they knew about air travel.” My kids will never forget me for saying weird things like that… But it is remarkable to quickly journey to and from different places, weather, experiences, and landscapes. It’s a gift I don’t take for granted.

Then, as suddenly as we had left, we were home again. 

As I unpacked our suitcases and shook out the last of the sand, I placed our shorts into the cardboard box marked ‘summer.’ Fall had arrived while we were away. I’m not even embarrassed to admit that I wistfully said to my shorts, “See you soon.”

One day, we were in the blazing sun. The next, I was dressed in three layers and a toque. I imagined my body, like my soul, was like, “Ok, so we’re doing this now.”

In the past few years, I’ve become very aware of how much of a gift this short life on earth is and how quickly the time spent with my kids is going. That awareness has led to such an appreciation for the opportunity to get to go places and create memories together as a family. 

And, of course, it has also led to the beach… and now some toasted pecans, too.