Last weekend, we threw together a quick trip down to southern Utah just us four. While the drive down there was a struggle as the girls cried way more than we expected, everything after it went beautifully.
Ellie and Nora were the epitome of troopers. They slept great in pack-n-plays, partied in our baby carriers on hikes to see Delicate Arch and Dead Horse Point, ate yummy Mexican food side by side, and even ventured into the hotel hot tub.
There’s something incredibly precious to me about doing things just us four. It feels almost sacred. It’s those little moments—trekking across red sandstone, each carrying a baby on our backs and stopping every thirty seconds to hand them Cheerios and laughing as the new piece or two instantly calms them both—that mean everything to me. Those are the moments I never want to forget. Those are the moments I’ve been dreaming of.
I love that I’ve got my own little team. It’s us four against the world. We’re our own travel buddies, playmates, book club, and dinner dates. I’m incredibly grateful for my family of four.