The Castle Had No Chance
The castle had a moat. It had an outer wall built for extra protection. It had two parents who had spent the better part of twenty minutes carefully packing wet sand into something that looked genuinely defensible.
And then the youngest looked at what they'd built, looked at his own two feet, and made a decision.
He went full Godzilla.
The older brother saw what was happening and joined in immediately. Two boys, both feet, no mercy. When it was over the moat and the outer wall were all that remained, standing in a crater of what used to be a very serious construction project. Both parents were laughing.
After that, I just had to keep up.
Sara and her family have been part of our world for about a year and a half. We met through a referral networking group in Solana Beach. From almost the first conversation she became one of those clients who kept coming back, someone who genuinely believed in what we were building before we'd fully built it. When she mentioned the cabin above Lake Tahoe in the spring, a session up there felt like the natural next chapter.
Diana and I drove up Saturday afternoon, winding along the west side of the lake before climbing into the mountains. We knocked on the cabin door and Sara welcomed us in. Behind her, two boys were already in motion.
Diana: They recognized us even though they didn't actually remember us. There's something wonderful about that age. We were familiar enough to be trusted, new enough to be interesting. The oldest zoomed past our toes on his ride-on train and his little brother wasn't going to be left behind on his airplane. They were using the kitchen island as a race track, feet pushing off the floor, chasing each other in circles. Ruwan had his camera out before we'd even said hello.
We spent an hour at the cabin letting the boys show off their world before Sara suggested heading down to the lake. About a ten minute drive to Incline Beach, and the boys arrived with a clear agenda: sand castle, immediately.
Both parents crouched down and got to work. Wet sand packed tight, a proper moat dug along the front, an outer wall raised for defense. Then Godzilla arrived. After the demolition the boys moved on without missing a beat. Out came the Tonka trucks, a dump truck and a bulldozer, and they went to work moving sand from one pile to another with the focus of contractors who had been given a very important job.
Diana: This is my favorite part of any session. The family stops thinking about us. A toddler hands you a toy car and you make engine noises. It's universal. The Tonka backhoe and little feet were deep in the sand. Giggles carried on the breeze. We just got to watch.
The youngest eventually wandered toward a playground nearby, dad following close behind. The playground had a swinging bridge connecting the two platforms. At first the little one whose entire career of walking was limited to no more than a year gingerly walked across this contraption. It bounced a little, this was the greatest discovery of the afternoon! He ran across it once. Then again. He'd stop at the slide, peer down, decide against it, and run back the other way. This repeated for a good twenty minutes before dad convinced him it was worth trying. His older brother had gone down it probably a dozen times by then.
As the sun dropped and the breeze off the lake picked up we headed back to the cabin for dinner. The boys got changed into pajamas. The grown-ups shared a meal while the stars came out above the trees.
Diana: Before bed the boys settled in by the fireplace. The kind of quiet that only arrives at the end of a day when everyone has used their whole body. Sara sat with her youngest tucked in close, the fire going, and for a minute the whole cabin felt like it had slowed all the way down.
The boys got their bedtime stories. We weren't far behind them.
