After a whirlwind month of work travel, I’m finally home—and staying put for a while. And honestly? It feels like the greatest luxury. Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy the travel part of my job (I wouldn’t spend nights away from my kids if it didn’t feel meaningful), but the constant airport shuffle isn’t my thing. Every time I board a plane, I swear I’ll perfect some magical routine that leaves me landing rested and glowing. Spoiler: I haven’t cracked that code yet.
So, for now, I’m embracing a month without flights and giving my body (and mind) the chance to recover before the next trip—which will be a whole different adventure, because it’s with the kids. More on that later. Today is all about slowing down, being present, and soaking up family time.
Balancing Work and Family (and Boundaries)
As the kids get older, it’s been both easier and more fun to bring them into my world. They travel better, they’re curious about what I do, and they make the sweetest (and most patient) little photography models. Still, I’m intentional about how much of them I share publicly. You’ve probably noticed this is something I revisit often, because it matters to me.
So just a gentle reminder: please keep the negativity away. My kids don’t need “saving” from anything. They’re growing up loved, secure, and wonderfully curious about the world. Kevin and I are very intentional about what they’re exposed to, and they’re thriving. Thank you, truly, for respecting that boundary—it makes all the difference.
Why Bellport?
When work slows down, the only thing I want to do is be with my family. And while faraway destinations are always tempting, nothing beats a quick escape close to home. The truth is, when I’m not traveling for work, the last place I want to be is an airport. A car trip feels like freedom.
Just 90 minutes from Manhattan, Bellport has become our go-to sanctuary. It’s the kind of small town that looks like it belongs in a storybook—white picket fences, tree-lined streets, and a calm that feels like a reset button for anyone living the fast-paced city life. There’s no big itinerary, no packed schedule. We go for the simplicity, but somehow there are always a few rituals we never skip.
Ice Cream First, Always
Our first stop is almost always Carla Marla’s, the sweetest little ice cream parlor in town. After sitting in a warm car for over an hour, nothing cures crankiness (for the kids or the adults) like a cone—or let’s be honest, sometimes a bag of candy.
Funny enough, our connection to Bellport goes back to the day we bought our car there, four years ago. A secondhand Jeep Cherokee that quickly became part of our family adventures. The only downside? The AC broke six months in, and because it’s such an old model, we’ve debated whether fixing it is worth the investment. Spoiler: it hasn’t been fixed. Which means summer drives can get… heated. Literally. Cue the occasional meltdown from James and Stella, which we smooth over with ice cream bribes. Parenting win.
But the charm of Carla Marla’s makes up for it. Sitting outside on a summer afternoon, cone in hand, it almost feels like time slows down. It’s nostalgic, joyful, and yes, perfectly Instagrammable if you’re into that sort of thing.
What Makes It Special
What I love most about Bellport isn’t just the ice cream (though, let’s be honest, it helps). It’s that rare ability to step out of the rush and just be. We don’t go there to tick off tourist spots or fill our schedules. We go to walk the quiet streets, to let the kids run around, to sit outside and notice how different the air feels compared to Manhattan.
In a world where so much of life is planned down to the minute, Bellport is where we go to un-plan. To choose simple joys: ice cream, family walks, laughing over the Jeep’s quirks, and soaking in the feeling of being together without distractions.
A Reminder to Slow Down
It’s funny how a small town just 90 minutes away can give you the same sense of renewal as a faraway trip. It reminds me that sometimes, the best escapes don’t require a plane ticket or a new passport stamp. Sometimes, they’re just a car ride away—meltdowns, broken AC, and all.
And after weeks of airports and hotel rooms, there’s nothing I’d rather do than sit on a little wooden bench in Bellport with my family, ice cream dripping down our hands, laughing about nothing at all. That’s the kind of travel that doesn’t just refresh you—it grounds you.
