Beach Walks and Big Feelings!

We’re in Mauritius — the kind of holiday where the plan is… no plan. Just beach hair, sandy toes, and slightly-too-much sugar. The boys are thriving — barefoot, sticky with sunscreen, racing waves and building sand kingdoms.

But between the sun and snacks and sibling chaos, there have been these unexpected quiet moments. A long beach walk, a quiet cuddle after too much sun, hot chocolate sipped slowly as the wind picks up. And in those little in-betweens, the big feelings have started to surface.

My eldest — who’s 7 — is moving to a new, much bigger school soon. He’s excited (he’s obsessed with his new smiggle school bag), but there’s anxiety there too. It shows up in the questions he asks when we’re walking side by side — “What if I don’t know anyone?” or “Will I like my teachers?” And I’ve learnt, these are the moments to lean in. To pause and listen, not fix. To gently reassure without brushing anything off. Because right now, what he needs most is to feel like he can say what he’s feeling — no matter how small or silly it might sound — and that I’m here. Still his safe space.

And then there’s my 5-year-old. His world is shifting too. While we’ve all been focused on the “big move,” he’s quietly been trying to process what it means for him — that his big brother won’t be in the same school, in the same class, in the same routine. The boy he’s done everything with since the very beginning is suddenly going off without him. And that’s a big feeling too, even if he doesn’t have the words for it yet. He’s been more clingy this trip. More sensitive. And at first I thought it was just tiredness or too much sun. But now I see it — it’s his own version of growing pains. A kind of quiet anxiety in the middle of all these changes. And somewhere in all of that, I’m also seeing him shift. Wanting to be more independent. Trying to prove he’s a “big boy” too. Wanting to paddle out just a little further, or pour his own cereal, or walk a few steps ahead on our beach adventures.

I realise now — this trip has been about more than just a family holiday. It’s been a reset. A reminder. That while I still see them as my babies, they’re both growing up in their own quiet, wild, brave ways.

It’s funny… I used to think the early years were the hardest part of parenting. The sleepless nights. The colic. The constant neediness. But now I’m realising — this part, the emotional part, is the real work. Helping them navigate their feelings. Letting them know there’s no judgement. That I’m always here — even when they don’t know quite what they need from me.

I want to keep that door open. I want them to know they can always talk. That they can bring their questions and worries and excitement to me — and that I won’t rush them or brush them off.

So for now, we build sandcastles. We chase waves. And we keep having these quiet, unexpected chats that feel like little gifts.

Because I think this might be the start of the most important part of parenting — not just raising them, but growing with them.