Every summer, like clockwork (and with about the same level of coordination as a military operation), we pack up and head to Daytona Beach, Florida. But this year? This year was different. For the first time ever, it was just me and Kevin—no kids, no responsibilities, no tiny humans asking for snacks every five minutes, no whiny teenagers upset because their life sucks so bad while on a vacation that cost them absolutely nothing. Just me, my husband, and the sweet, sweet sound of nothing but ocean waves and Kevin asking where the beef jerky is.
We stayed for two whole weeks at the Sherwin Condominium, living our best 8th-floor life in a fabulous Airbnb. I don’t say “fabulous” lightly either. This place was divine. The kind of divine that makes you want to redecorate your entire house the moment you get home and then cry when you realize your budget is more "Walmart Clearance" than "Oceanfront Chic."
Every morning and every evening—like beachy little clockwork—we walked the sand. Romantic, right? I’d like to say we held hands the whole time, but let’s be honest: it is hot in Florida and my hands get sweaty.
One of the best parts of the trip? Sitting out on our balcony, just the two of us, soaking in the view and the glorious sound of waves crashing. It was like therapy, but free and with a better view (and zero judgment for drinking wine out of a souvenir cup).
We went on a dolphin and manatee tour with Ponce Inlet Watersports, and let me tell you—I have never rooted harder for a marine mammal in my life. Every time a dolphin popped up, I squealed like a toddler seeing a balloon animal for the first time. Kevin, of course, tried to play it cool… but even he couldn’t resist the charm of those flippery little show-offs.
We took a break from the beach one day and ventured over to the Kennedy Space Center. Nothing says “beach vacation” like looking at rockets and pretending you totally could have been an astronaut if you’d only applied yourself in 10th-grade physics. Kevin got really into the simulator, and I had to remind him multiple times that no, he’s not actually qualified to go to space, even if he did beat the high score.
We skipped our usual trip to Medieval Times in Orlando this year. I know, I know—it was a tough call. Where else can you eat chicken with your bare hands and scream at strangers in armor? But honestly, we were just too busy enjoying the luxury of not needing a reservation for a table of six.
And let’s talk about the 4th of July at the condo. The association put on a whole event—live music, food, and fireworks right on the beach. It was like having a front-row seat to a party we didn’t even have to clean up after. I didn’t have to lift a finger—except to raise a plastic cup of rum punch in the air and say, “This is the life.”
All in all, it was an incredible trip. Peaceful, relaxing, and just plain fun. Kevin and I discovered what it’s like to vacation as adults, not just as parents. And while we missed the kids (... eventually...), it was such a gift to just be together, just the two of us, surrounded by sun, sand, and seagulls with questionable attitudes.
Until next summer, Daytona. Keep the waves warm for us.