There’s something incredibly tender about the way children mimic the world around the them. This morning as I was already thick into my morning routine of washing bottles, cooking breakfast, and cleaning up spilled milk from my toddler horsing around, I overheard the kiddos playing “house.” But this time, it wasn’t just sweet, it was familiar.

From building a “hotel room” in our four season porch, to setting up a pool deck in the living room for a night of “Movie Under the Stars,” to “Mom, can you be the person who checks us into our hotel?” They were reliving our family travels. They were turning their memories into play, their experiences into imagination. And I, for a moment, stood still and soaked in the quiet magic of what that meant.

As a travel agent, I pour hours into crafting experiences for families- curating destinations, matching personalities to places, planning itineraries that makes sense in the midst of chaos. But seeing my own children recreate those moments reminded me that I’m doing more than just booking trips. I’m helping build core memories, visceral responses to certain smells, tastes, and sounds.

What I do allows families—my family—to see that there’s more to this world than routine. My kids aren't just pretending to be in a hotel or on a cruise; they’re remembering how it felt. They’re connecting the dots between real adventure and creative play. They’re practicing hospitality, teamwork, kindness, and storytelling, all within the safe bounds of a blanket fort and the echo of summer laughter.

And once again, I realize this is why I do what I do. As long as my children keep playing, imagining, and dreaming, I’ll keep doing what I do—guiding families into unforgettable experiences that spill over into living rooms and hearts long after the bags are unpacked. And for me? I’ll keep dreaming up new itineraries… because who knows what next summer’s blanket fort will become.

Hotel Concierge Mama,
Rachel Saefong

Everything seemed so much bigger as an 11-year-old compared to a now 35. The road from my apartment to our favorite park felt forever long, but in reality is only 0.5 miles away. The hill I learned how to ride a bike felt like a mountainous incline, but in reality was no taller than a small mound. It was nice to be in a familiar place, yet I felt like a complete stranger to a place I once called home.

As I was showing my kids these things, they were in the backseat bickering and fighting. I found myself frustrated at the fact that they too didn’t feel the sentiment of these places; they didn’t get to relive the old tree we climbed, the old tire swing we would often get dizzy on, the Chinese restaurant that made us crave fried rice, or the trail near the Platte River we would walk after dinner every night. It wasn’t their childhood, it was mine.

It prompted me to think, what will my children share with their spouses one day? What park will they show their kids? What vacations will they take their children one day in hopes to relive their childhood? A sense of nostalgic sadness overcame me, knowing that one day, they too will grow up and all the things that felt so big are actually not at all. But it also prompted me to ensure that they have the best memories to share they will want to come back to instead of avoid. Parks and trails and smells and foods that they once loved that they want to share with their children.

Colorado will always hold a special place in my heart, but it’s no longer home. Just a memory of a family of four that has now grown into a family of 14.

Until next time Colorado,
Rachel Saefong

California has become such a hard place for us to visit; so much to do and see, but never enough time. We flew down to LA for Disneyland, drove three hours north to Fresno where my parents reside, then drove another three hours north to San Francisco to where my in-laws are, then added 45 minutes north to Sacramento to visit my old college friends (whom I haven’t seen in over five years), and drove back down to Fresno to spend my dad’s birthday with him. But the silver lining to all of this- Vichai and I got a total of NINE hours of uninterrupted conversation in the car. We joked that it was a nice little “couples retreat” for us as we have been so busy making the Saefong House go round.

We had the most validating conversation with a family friend; she said to us, “I love that you guys don’t see any of this as an inconvenience. From traveling with your three children to driving basically across California.” I was telling Vichai how that made me want to cry; of course it’s not an inconvenience! Life is so short, I would make any drive to see people who has made a difference in my life. And if anything, I wouldn’t want my kids to ever feel like a nuisance in my life. Would it be easier to travel without multiple bathroom breaks? Sure! Would it be easier to travel without noise? Absolutely! Would it be easier to travel without car seats and extra luggage? Duh! But my heart would be missing the best part of me and the trip would mean nothing.

Despite this being our last Saefong Five trip, I look forward to filling up a whole row on an airplane. I look forward to baby’s little toes touching sand for the first time and hating it. I look forward to our toddler being tall enough to ride the thrill rides with his older siblings. I look forward to being grandparents and doing this all over again with our grandchildren (which Vichai thinks I’m crazy thinking that far ahead). All in all, life wouldn’t be this full if I didn’t have these little ones to share it with. Life wouldn’t be as full if we didn’t get to share it with family and friends who means so much to us. And life wouldn’t be so full if we didn’t know how small we were in this big world.

Until our next Saefong Six trip,
Rachel Saefong