There are some family days that take weeks of planning.
And then there are the ones where you grab swimsuits, throw a boogie board in the car, head to the beach, and somehow get exactly the afternoon you needed.
This was the second kind.
We found a spot near the water with bright red, blue, and yellow umbrellas scattered across the sand and palm trees behind us. The little kids immediately headed for the waves, which were just shallow enough to run into without thinking twice.
James and Kate could have spent hours letting the water chase their feet. They'd run in, squeal when a wave reached them, and then race back toward the sand before doing the exact same thing again.
Will, meanwhile, had a boogie board and therefore had a mission.
He kept charging back toward the water, board tucked under his arm, completely convinced that the next tiny wave was going to be the one. And honestly, watching him was half the fun.
Chet and I mostly followed everyone around, laughed, got splashed, and tried to keep track of where all three kids were at once.
Nothing particularly remarkable happened.
And I think that's why I loved it.
Lately I've been realizing how much of family life happens in these little in-between moments. Not the vacations or birthdays or things you put on the calendar months ahead of time. Just a warm afternoon, bare feet in the water, kids laughing, and nowhere else we particularly needed to be.
The older they get, the more I want to notice these days while we're still in the middle of everything.
Because someday I suspect I'll remember the colorful umbrellas, Will running toward the waves with his boogie board, James and Kate splashing beside us, and the five of us wandering along the shoreline—and realize this was the good stuff all along. ❤️
