Cannon Beach 2025

Over the past few years, it’s been a process figuring out the best way to make the most of the kids’ school breaks. One year, we did Hawaii in February and Arizona in April—both were incredible trips, but in hindsight, it was too much. The following year, we scaled things back with a February ski trip and a few local adventures in April. Skiing was great, but not getting away for spring break left us feeling a little let down.

This year, we finally found what feels like the right balance. We spent mid-winter break skiing at Mount Bachelor and then headed to the Oregon coast for spring break. It was ideal—fun adventures without the long travel days or the expense of far-off destinations.

The kids loved Cannon Beach. Honestly, it was a bit of a surprise, but they said it’s one of their favorite places we’ve ever visited. It was super low-key, filled with slow days on the beach, long walks, hiking, feeding the resident bunnies, bike rides, kite flying, shopping in town, and beach bonfires to usher in twilight.

I recently revisited an article by Mark Manson that’s stuck with me since I first read it in 2018. He writes that adulthood begins when we live by principle—when our values align with our actions. He points out that our thoughts can be deceiving, and if we really want to understand what we value, we need to look at how we actually spend our time.

I want to use our school breaks as intentional pauses and opportunities to lean into one of our core family values: meaningful experiences and time well spent with those we hold dearest.

Skiing 2025

Building on the momentum of the 2024 ski season, we went all in for 2025 and bought five Ikon passes. We kicked things off in September by taking the Crystal Gondola up for a scenic hike. Later in the season, we returned for a ski weekend at the Loge with our Canterwood friends and spent a full week in Sunriver, tearing it up at Mt. Bachelor.

Wes, Hazel, and I made real progress in our skiing—culminating in our first black diamond run together as a family. Owen was laser-focused on conquering the toughest terrain on the mountain, and he proudly met his goal. Ty had a few moments where he realized that keeping up with his first born is a challenge. 

Our MLK weekend at the Loge was fantastic. The snow wasn’t great, but the weather was clear and Crystal really shines with the right light. The kids loved skiing together by day and hitting the pool and s’mores by night. We had a cozy dinner at the Snorting Elk and an unforgettable game of Charades. 

Our week at Bachelor was a highlight—it's still my favorite place to ski. The runs are wide and beautiful, and even when the lift lines are long, the mountain never feels crowded. We made it to the summit, where the powder was the best I’ve ever experienced. Bachelor is also where we tackled that black diamond—a sweet milestone for our family. Off the slopes, we ice skated, explored the village, swam at the lodge, worked on a puzzle, and soaked in the hot tub.

The winters here are undeniably gloomy, but skiing motivates us to embrace the outdoors anyway; it keeps us active and energized. Personally, I ski for the views—the quiet awe of standing at the summit, surrounded by glittering snow and piercing blue skies, while the lowlands often remain cloaked in a blanket of clouds.

This year, our family set a goal: 1,000 hours outside in 2025. Ski season gave us a strong start. Every hour on the slopes counts—not just toward the goal, but toward a rhythm of life that values movement, nature, and shared adventure.

                   

Christmas 2024

It was another lovely holiday season, complete with the now-familiar viral disruptions that seem to have become the post-COVID norm. We spent Thanksgiving at the Cove and had a wonderful time. Hazel started to fall ill during our travels and rhinovirus subsequnetly made its way through the house, taking the kids down in turn. Wes ended up with pneumonia, and someone was home sick for three weeks straight. We had to cancel our Seattle getaway and scale back many of our pre-Christmas plans.

By the time Christmas arrived, everyone was on the mend, in time for the traditions we love most. We celebrated early with my family in Clackamas, then hosted Christmas Day at our house with the Leitz/Rallo crew. Steve made a standing rib roast, and with less time spent in the kitchen, I was able to fully enjoy everyone’s company. The Magnolia Rallos stayed overnight, we spent some relaxed time in Gig Harbor, and then headed back to the Cove for a few days—highlighted by epic sledding afternoon at Badger Mountain.

Once we returned home, we kept things slow and cozy: board games, biking, hiking, skiing, and plenty of movie nights. Remembering how drained I felt after the holidays last year, I let the mess linger and prioritized quality time over productivity. 

Owen’s behavior leading up to Christmas was a challenge. Big emotions often come with big excitement for him, and it brought out some tension in all of us. After the holiday passed, he found his footing again, and the second half of winter break felt much lighter and more enjoyable. Getting called off work for both New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day was an unexpected gift. We made it to Crystal for our first ski day of the season and went to a NYE party with neighborhood friends. I ended the break feeling grounded rather than depleted. 

Looking ahead to 2025, we set a simple family goal: more intentional time outdoors. We’ve always loved being outside, and while I’m pretty sure we’re already hitting the mark, this year I’m tracking it—aiming for 1,000 hours of time outside. 

10-Year-Old Love Letter

My Sweet Wessy Bug,

You are 10 years old, which is such a magical age. I love how you're both grateful and open to seeing things from other people’s perspectives. As you've gotten older, your confidence has grown, and you're more willing to try new things. You remain incredibly agreeable and approach life with a naturally positive attitude—something that makes being around you a joy.

When I suggested we buy a Christmas present for a child in Auntie Rach's class who had lost his mom—instead of getting gifts from the Hights—you enthusiastically agreed. You even added, “We're already spoiled enough and don’t need anything.” That warmed my mama heart.

You’re someone who, like me, genuinely needs and values rest. You love to sleep, and you really love to eat. One of the funniest parts of our trip to Namibia was watching how much food you could pack away—just like The Very Hungry Caterpillar, you were always still hungry. It became a running joke, especially after the half chicken at Okapuka and the massive bowls of spaghetti at Okakuejo.

Your perception of your athletic ability still runs ahead of reality—but that’s part of what makes you so endearing. This fall, during flag football, there were a few games where you missed catches and threw a couple of interceptions as quarterback. I braced myself when I asked how you felt about the game, worried you might feel discouraged. Without hesitation, you said, “I did great.” And honestly? That kind of self-compassion is something we could all learn from.

This fall, we made the choice to move away from your high-achieving, low-playtime flag football team and try something new. You joined a team with minimal coaching and structure—which gave you the chance to step into a leadership role. Your passion for football runs deep. You love watching the NFL, playing Madden on the Xbox, and this year, you finally got to attend your first Seahawks game. After months of lobbying, you may have finally convinced us to let you try tackle football next year.

You played your first season of lacrosse this spring—you enjoyed it and showed a lot of natural skill and field IQ. You still love to recount your epic sports moments and your fails alike.

Kingston and Chase are still your besties. This year, we hosted a big birthday party at the house, and all ten of the friends you invited came. It was such a kind and fun group—I'm glad you’re a part of it. You impressed everyone with your dance moves at Auntie Manda's wedding this summer. 

When you're sick, you don’t make a big fuss—you just lay low and say very little. A bout of pneumonia this fall had you curled up on the couch for days, barely speaking. One night, I checked on you in bed and found you drenched in sweat—that's when I knew something wasn’t right. A twisted ankle, on the other hand, comes with some theatrics. Lots of limping and repeated announcements of the injury. 

Your indecisiveness remains, you have strong writing skills and craft the most beautiful thank-you notes. You still love board games. We leaned hard into Rummikub this winter and you’ve become a total mastermind. You like to hoard your belongings. Rather than ripping into your birthday gifts, you keep them boxed up neatly in your room. Same with money—you save it and rarely spend.

Some of my favorite moments this year came during our Namibia trip. Like when you kept your promise to follow up with the vendors in Swakopmund, wearing your straw hat as the sun set. You’re such a thoughtful spender—you waited until the Penguin Town gift shop to finally cut loose. I found you in the crowded store with a basket overflowing: three stuffed animals, jewelry, and paintings for your room. You had saved your money and knew this was your moment to splurge—no regrets.

You have a sharp, natural sense of humor and often drop the best one-liners. We were watching a Christmas movie where Santa delivered a 4-wheeler to a kid, and without missing a beat, you said, “Looks like I know what I’m asking for this Christmas.” Another time, we saw our neighbor’s tiny white dog walking by in an orange jacket, and you casually remarked, “I didn’t know Bowie works for NASA!” Your timing is spot-on, and your wit adds so much joy to our everyday life.

As you grow older, I hope you always hold on to the best parts of who you are right now—your generous heart, your big feelings, your quiet strength, and your sense of wonder. You have a light that shines so naturally, and the way you care about others, lead with kindness, and stay true to yourself is truly special.

Watching you become more of you each year is one of the greatest joys of my life. I’m so proud of the boy you are and excited for the young man you're becoming. I’ll always be cheering you on—through the big wins, the tough lessons, and all the messy, beautiful in-betweens.

I love you with all that I have. 

xoxo,

Your Loving Mama 

12-Year-Old Love Letter

My Sweet Owen, 

Your 12th year marked a big step forward in your independence. You found friends close enough to hang out with on your own—no parent coordination required. Jackson remained your best friend, but being in different classes gave you space to connect with Dallas and Mateo as well. You’ve always had a strong sense of self, and when faced with a tough choice—like the time you were pressured to bike to Target against our rules—you made the right call and came to us right away. That honesty and self-trust are qualities we deeply value.

You leaned into historical fiction this year, and Number the Stars made a lasting impression. It’s been amazing to watch you grow as a reader and thinker.

Spring lacrosse reignited your love for the sport, and your brief fling with the canoe and kayak racing team faded almost as quickly as it began. Fifth grade had some real highlights—Camp Seymour and Dancing Classrooms among them. Your moves were pretty epic. By June, though, you were wholeheartedly ready to leave elementary school behind.

You also experienced your first real crush this year—on a sweet girl named Ivy. You thoughtfully bought her a necklace at Great Wolf Lodge and put together a “Boo Basket” to officially ask her to be your girlfriend in October. 

I was excited to have all three kids at the same school this year, but It ended up being kind of tough for you. As you're moving into adolescence, you’re craving space from your siblings—which is difficult when you’re all on the same schedule. Starting middle school didn’t faze you. You brought your confidence with you, and it’s served you well. Mrs. Johnson—who you adored as a student teacher in fourth grade—now teaches at Harbor Ridge, and having her for two classes helped smooth the transition.

6th grade has brought some new shifts: you started wearing jeans (after years of unwavering loyalty to sweats) and began exploring your sense of style, messy hair and tall white socks, for example. It’s one of those subtle but unmistakable signs that you're growing up.

You joined the cross country team with a few friends in the fall and loved it. You placed well, and I’m hopeful that endurance will carry over into future sports. After practice, you and your crew liked to walk to Finholm’s for candy and ice cream—such a sweet slice of preteen life.

One day, you asked if I talk about you with Nana and Auntie Rach. That moment gave me pause—it was a powerful reminder that you're becoming more aware of your own story, and that you deserve privacy and respect as you grow.

One ongoing challenge this year has been figuring out how to manage money. I want you to have some freedom to spend when you’re with friends—since McDonald’s and Starbucks are now social hubs—but I also want to teach you the value of earning and responsibility. My first idea was to give you $40 a month, no strings attached. But when you weren’t following through with basic respect at home—like leaving food wrappers and clothes everywhere—I pulled back. Then I tried tying allowance to chores, but that didn’t quite work either. We’ve settled on a new system: your baseline responsibilities are just part of being in our family. If you want to earn extra money, it has to come from bigger tasks—like vacuuming the car or helping with yard work. You haven’t really taken to that yet, which means you're usually low on cash. I'm hopeful you'll find your rhythm with it in time.

For your birthday party, you invited eight friends to an escape room, and it was a total blast. The car ride over was unexpectedly hilarious—five preteen boys belting out songs in an impromptu singing contest to see who had the best voice.

Your actual birthday fell on the Friday after Thanksgiving, which meant no school—a huge win in your book! Since we planned to spend Thanksgiving at the Cove, you insisted on doing your family celebration at home the Wednesday before we left. We kept all the traditions you love: decorating the house, breakfast on the “you’re special” plate, and opening gifts first thing in the morning.

We gifted you an iPhone, and you were absolutely thrilled—and slightly shocked that your wish had actually come true. I worried that celebrating on an “off day” might make your real birthday feel flat, especially after last year’s disappointment, but it didn’t. You decided you wanted to go Black Friday shopping at 5 a.m. for your birthday, and you asked the right person—Auntie Kari came through, and we were all at Walmart right when it opened. You were riding high on officially joining the phone club and had a fantastic time hanging out with your cousins.

I’m so proud of who you are becoming. You’re thoughtful, confident, and brimming with potential. The coming year will bring new challenges and opportunities, and I know you’ll rise to meet them. Keep being true to yourself, Owen. Embrace what lies ahead, and don’t ever forget—you are deeply loved, and we’re always here to love and support you.

xoxo,

Your Loving Mama