Sugar Coated Cereal

When I was a child, vacation meant one thing...sugar coated cereal. It was never in the house growing up, but we knew that when we went on vacation, the restaurants would have it. And we were allowed to order it. We would happily request "Froot Loops," then smirk at our parents because we knew they couldn't do anything about it. It quickly became just as fascinating as the beach or Niagara Falls. It made such an impression on us that to this day, my 35 year old brother has been known to bring a box or two on family vacations.

As I slowly collected things for our Outer Banks vacation, I would place them in a box on the table. Isis quickly began finding the things in the treat box...juice boxes, yogurt bites, goldfish. I would remind her that these were for the beach. I wanted the anticipation to build.

It did. We left our house at 5 a.m. and by six, Isis was sitting in the car with juice box in hand watching a movie. Then was breakfast. Then more snacking. By the time we reached the beach she had eaten her entire bag of yogurt bites. It didn't matter you see, we were on vacation. This was all part of the fun.

Chris and I have adapted the mentality that when we vacation, it is best to indulge. Not overindulge, but let's in no way limit ourselves in the small things. Good food. Fun activities. Small souvenirs. For Isis, it was snacks. We would set up on the beach and withing minutes she would request a "picnic." I would pull out a bag of crackers and she would sit in her beach chair and be the cutest thing ever with her snack. About 30 minutes later she would kindly suggest the idea of "picnic." We would find a new snack and secretly indulge. It's okay you see, this is vacation.

Prior to our vacation we would tell Isis we were going to the beach. She would quickly reply "juice box." It was a picture she had seen in one of her books and we needed to make sure it happened. It did. Very frequently. And she appreciated it.

It's funny how you envision what it will be like the first time you take your two-year old to the beach. I pictured her in her little beach chair. We would make sand castles. She would love the waves. And then you arrive and your vision becomes her vision. She sits in your beach chair. She smashes sand castles. She points at waves and says, "no that." She wants to slither in the sand. She wants to climb the giants dunes. She tells daddy she wants "deps" to climb out of her giant hole.



A few months ago my friend Kate visited us from Portland. She said her goal on any vacation is just to do things she can't do at home. It doesn't have to be anything grand or fascinating, it just has to be different. I think this is wonderful. And so as we vacationed on the empty beaches of the Oregon Inlet, I began to calculate the things that we cannot do at home.


We cannot looks at waves and yell, "beeeeg one." We cannot run and explore something we have never seen. We cannot spend every day together as a family. We cannot dig giant holes in our front yard. We cannot kiss daddy behind the sand dunes. We cannot picnic every five minutes. We cannot collect sea shells. We cannot go to Harris Teeter and drive the carts with steering wheels. We cannot watch Isis squeal and coo and gently try to persuade seagulls to come her way. These things do not cost money, they are actually rather priceless. As Chris stated, "this is everything God intended." This is vacation after all, let it all go, take it all in, and remember to sugar coat it a little.