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

Namibia 2024

We had the trip of a lifetime in Namibia. The kids were incredible travelers—patient, resilient, and mature beyond my expectations. They truly understood what a privilege this journey was and rose to the occasion. From logging countless hours in the air and on the road, to trying new foods, swimming in unheated pools, and sitting through long dinners—complaints were few and far between. Even Hazel’s clinically diagnosed “baby bladder” stepped up. Most importantly, the kids treated the people and the country with genuine kindness and respect.

We've traveled well with Steve and Paula in the past, and this trip was no exception. Everything went smoothly, with a notable lack of meltdowns. Having grandparents along motivated the kids to behave with a mindfulness that, let’s be honest, isn’t always there with just parents.

The journey began with a forty-hour trek, during which we saw the sun set three times. An eight-hour layover in London gave the kids their first taste of Europe. Ty and I were thrilled to show them a slice of the city that holds a special place in our hearts from our study abroad days. They saw Big Ben, Paddington Station, and rode the Tube before enjoying dinner at a lovely Italian restaurant. On the return trip, they saw Buckingham Palace, rode a double-decker bus, and had breakfast at a quintessential British café.

Every place we stayed was special: our huge villa at Arebbusch in Windhoek, the luxurious tents at Mushara, our oceanside suite in Swakopmund, and our stunning home overlooking the bay in Cape Town.

Spending time with Edwin and Emmy was deeply meaningful. We loved their open arms when we arrived at the airport, having a braai at their home, meeting them for dinners around Windhoek and learning more about their family and culture. As Americans, we have a lot to learn from the way they care for one another and share what they have.

The food scene pleasantly surprised us with its quality and value. We regularly enjoyed fresh, delicious meals—with drinks and dessert included—for just $35–$75 total for all seven of us. Not having to pay $16 for every glass of wine definitely made dining out more enjoyable for me. We let the kids indulge a bit more than usual, treating them to soda and ice cream at nearly every meal. The best bargain? Wes’s $3 lunch at Okapuka: a perfectly roasted half chicken served with roasted vegetables and mashed potatoes.

Our afternoon at the BNC, an after school education program, was a core memory. We met the kids and then broke into small groups to read together. Seeing each of our kids reading with the program students made my heart sing. And the best part was how much our kids cherished that experience. They absolutely loved spending time with the kids and were willing to cancel anything in our itinerary to be able to go back for an additional afternoon. 

At Mushara Bush Camp, we stayed in a bougie tent and enjoyed incredible meals, one of which landed on our 15th wedding anniversary. As we arrived, a mother giraffe and her baby stood just outside our van. On safari, we were lucky enough to see baby lions playing, a cheetah hunting, an elephant, and plenty of giraffes and antelope. Our guide was phenomenal—deeply connected to the animals and intuitive about their movements, repeatedly positioning us perfectly to witness nature at its best. Most notably during the cheetah hunt. 

One of the most magical moments came at a watering hole outside our hotel in Okaukuejo. The setting sun cast a golden glow as antelope and giraffes drank peacefully. Then, in the distance, a cloud of dust began to rise—revealing a herd of fifty elephants slowly making their way toward the water. We watched in awe as they approached, gathered, and interacted just feet from us, all beneath the fiery colors of the Namibian sunset. It was incredible.

On the way out of Etosha National Park, a herd of about 75 zebras blocked the road—truly a photographer’s dream. With Namibia being one of the least densely populated countries in the world, it felt like we had the entire park to ourselves.

The coast brought more adventure. Our hotel on stilts was charming, and the kids saw the Atlantic Ocean for the first time. The weather wasn’t perfect, but we still did everything we planned. Quad biking through the towering dunes was incredible. You can’t grasp their vastness and majesty until you're moving through them.

Another moment from this trip is sand sledding in the dunes. Two young men took us to the top of the dunes on four wheelers so we could sled down on waxed pieces of particle board. Sliding down was certainly fun in its own right but the guides wiping us around on the four wheelers is what made the morning so memorable. I have a video of Ty holding onto one of them for dear life as they zoom straight up the side of the dune. It was one of those laughing spells you remember for years—the kind that leaves your cheeks sore and your heart lighter. A memory I hold incredibly dear. 

After sledding, we tackled the climb to the top of Dune 7—one of the tallest sand dunes in the world. The heat and steep incline had me stopping frequently, to the point where the others weren’t sure I’d make it. Steve stayed at the bottom, filming and narrating Owen and Hazel’s ascent like it was an Olympic event. He called it a tie, though both Owen and Hazel maintain they were the true victors.

One evening, we shopped at a night market in Swakopmund. A vendor at the first stall lamented that tourists often say they’ll return but don’t. We promised we would. An hour and several purchases later, we found Wes back at her stall, keeping his word. He proceeded to revisit each vendor, explaining he was out of money but wanted to come back the next day.

We also loved offering generous tips and sharing leftover food with the people working at the hotels and those watching over our van while we shopped or dined. Their reactions were often full of surprise and heartfelt gratitude—some smiled ear to ear, others bowed or even danced to show their thanks. It was a small gesture that felt meaningful every time.

While browsing upscale shops, two local brothers approached us selling rocks. They told Owen about their families, tied his shoe, and shared that Namibians always care for each other. Touched, Owen insisted on buying from them at a high price—because he liked them and wanted them to be able to buy food for their children. 

The final leg of our journey took us to Cape Town. South Africa felt remarkably different from Namibia, and while the detour added a good bit of travel time, I’m so glad we got a small taste of it. The coastline was absolutely breathtaking, and the South African penguins were a highlight for Wessy. We didn’t make it all the way to the Cape of Good Hope due to the weather, but we did drive the length of Chapman’s Peak Drive on our way to the airport—which was stunningly beautiful.

Traveling with Steve and Paula—who’ve poured so much of their lives into Namibia—made this more than just a vacation. Beyond Steve’s expertly crafted itinerary, it was an experience deeply rooted in connection, shaped by their history, stories, and relationships. We asked them to travel with us so our kids could be part of something profoundly meaningful to them. I’m confident their love for Namibia has now taken root in the next generation.

The journey home was grueling—vomiting, exhaustion, and long hours in customs. When a Seattle customs officer asked if we had family in Namibia, Owen emphatically replied, “Yes!” We quickly clarified, wary of complicating our reentry, but his response perfectly captured our collective sentiment: it truly felt like we were leaving family behind.

I’m fully aware of the privilege this kind of adventure entails—not in a hashtag-blessed kind of way, but with a profound sense of gratitude for the financial means and family support that made it possible. The memories we made are deeply meaningful and will stay with us for a lifetime.