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• My best friend and I, who are in our 40s, joined my parents on vacation in Florida.
• Our multigenerational trip felt nostalgic, and it was nice to spend time together as a group.
• Discovering new places and visiting old ones was a blast, too, and I wish we’d done this sooner.

My best friend and I leave a trail of sand from our day at the beach as we hurriedly run ahead of my parents, beach cruisers haphazardly parked outside the rental.

We’re on a mission to hide a disheveled Barbie doll named Trixie (a victim of a DIY haircut long ago), somewhere hilariously unexpected in the house.

It’s a favorite pastime of ours — and the best part is the suspense while we await the discovery, which prompts uncontrollable laughter when my mom or dad finds Trixie posing in the microwave.

This was just one of our staple summer vacation antics that my best friend and I had been performing since meeting in the last two flute seats of band class at 12 years old.

Fast forward 30-plus years, and the only thing that’s changed is that we’re grown adults with careers and children (hers: human, mine: canine), and we’ve swapped soda for cocktails.

These days, I’m based in New York and she’s in Texas, so we mostly only see each other once a year on a specially chosen annual trip.

This time, instead of relaxing in Jamaica or road-tripping through Arizona, we decided to hijack a long weekend of my parents’ monthlong vacation on the Florida Gulf Coast.

The trip was a reunion 13 years in the making that took us right back to the good old days

Mom and Dad, both in their early 70s, were happy to oblige and let us 43-year-olds join them.

Growing up, Erin was like a bonus daughter to my parents — she spent weeks on end at my house during summer break, never missed a Friday pizza night, and always joined our family vacations.

But with life taking us both to various corners of the world, it had been 13 years since they last saw her.

So, when the opportunity arose to crash my parents’ vacation in Siesta Key, we chose to make the reunion finally happen as our annual trip, leaning into multigenerational travel with nostalgic flair.

The two of us brought along matching pool floats and all of our old shenanigans, including Trixie’s understudy, Tricia, courtesy of Erin’s young daughters.

As soon as we arrived, it was just like our beach jaunts of yesteryear, all of us under one roof in a house rental, sharing meals, laughs, sunshine, and for Erin and me, a room with bunkbeds.

Each morning, we chatted with my parents over coffee before hitting the beach to lounge and search for seashells like we used to, reminiscing about that one time my mom allowed us to bring 92 of them home, for some reason.

Between the great company and mix of old and new favorites, we had an amazing time

Dinners were spent listening to live music with a bowl of clam chowder at our favorite haunt, the dollar-bill-ridden Siesta Key Oyster Bar, and discovering new spots like Casa Masa, where the margaritas on tap and housemade blue-corn tortilla chips still have me swooning.

Then, we’d round out the evening with card games at the house, snickering around the dining table while we waited for my parents to notice Trixie hanging upside down from the light fixture above us.

As a little surprise, I organized a sunset beach picnic for us girls, and it was such a great way to share a memorable experience with my mom and best friend.

My dad picking us up for our ride home after we wined and dined on the beach was the nostalgic cherry on top.

Although my career as a travel writer allows me to venture to far-flung places (sometimes with Erin in tow), the slower pace and walk down memory lane with my parents in Siesta Key made this one of the most fulfilling trips I’ve had in a long time.

Going back to basics turned out to be the exact type of vacation I needed, with quality time well spent.

I left with a slew of special memories made with some of my favorite people all together in one place, and sure of one thing: We won’t be going another 13 years before doing this again.

• Trump’s new policy could force many immigrants to apply for green cards from outside the US.
• USCIS may grant exceptions for immigrants who offer economic benefits or serve national interests.
• Experts say Trump’s policy could disrupt mixed-status families and long-term visa holders.

President Donald Trump’s latest immigration crackdown is triggering alarm, confusion, and fierce debate among lawyers, advocates, and many in the business world who rely on visa holders for skilled labor.

On Friday, US Citizenship and Immigration Services announced it would grant “adjustment of status” — the process that allows some immigrants already in the US to apply for a green card without leaving the country — “only in extraordinary circumstances,” potentially forcing many applicants to return to their home countries and wait abroad while their cases are processed.

While a USCIS spokesperson told Business Insider that applicants who “provide an economic benefit or otherwise are in the national interest” may still qualify for exemptions, it remains unclear how broadly the administration plans to enforce the new restrictions or how many immigrants could ultimately be affected.

The administration has framed the move as a return to the original intent of immigration law, while critics warn it could upend the lives of foreign workers, mixed-status families, and long-term visa holders who have relied on the process for decades.

Here’s what smart people are saying about the sweeping policy shift.

Blake Scholl

Blake Scholl, founder and CEO at Boom Supersonic, a company developing a supersonic airliner, said on X that he understands why “we don’t want people to come to the US to be criminals” and “mooch on welfare.”

“But I don’t understand why we make it harder for motivated, ambitious, hardworking people to come to the land of opportunity,” Scholl added.

Nick Davidov

Nick Davidov, the founder of Davidovs Venture Collective, a VC that supports repeat AI founders at the seed level, called the changes in the green card application rules “the biggest bullshit move by DHS in its history” and the “worst imaginable way to disrupt important work for the country.”

“So everyone on a O1 or H1B visa would have to stop working legally in the US, go back to their country and wait for years of backlog?” Davidov wrote on X on Friday. “This includes top scientists in our universities, founders of billion dollar companies.”

Davidov added in subsequent tweets that Iranians and Ukrainians can’t really return to their home countries for safety reasons, and that immigrants such as Elon Musk, Jensen Huang, and Sergey Brin have created some of the country’s most valuable companies.

Andrew Ng

Andrew Ng, AI entrepreneur and cofounder of Coursera, called asking green card applicants to apply outside the US only “a capricious attack on legal immigration.”

“It will hurt families, leave us with fewer doctors, teachers and scientists, and hurt American competitiveness in AI,” Ng wrote on X on Friday.

Reid Hoffman

Reid Hoffman, cofounder of LinkedIn and a prominent Trump critic in Silicon Valley, wrote on X that the DHS’s new policies are a “harmful move for tech, business, and America broadly.”

“Does this mean AI Researchers, employees, and students will now have to leave the country and wait through a backlog process to continue their work?” Hoffman wrote.

Yvette Clarke

Rep. Yvette Clarke, a Democrat from New York, called the new green card policies “a disgrace.”

“It will rip talented, hardworking immigrants out from America and our economy, congest an already overburdened backlog, and further break an already broken immigration system,” said Clarke on X.

“And that’s by design,” Clarke added. “This administration has made the pain of immigrants a priority, and that won’t change until there’s no one left to hurt.”

David J. Bier

David J. Bier, the director of immigration studies at the Cato Institute, a libertarian think tank, called for new leadership of USCIS in a series of posts on X on Friday, where he said that the new policies show “total malice against the applicants.”

“The policy is a radical expansion of DHS’s ‘quiet quitting’ on legal immigration that has been going on for months,” Bier also wrote in a blog post. “Now USCIS’s new memorandum details a plan for mass denials. USCIS has gone from the ‘quiet-quit’ to walking out on 1.2 million green card applicants.”

“Forcing green card applicants to leave will render many green card applicants ineligible because, when they leave the United States, they will trigger the 3- or 10-year bars on receiving an immigrant visa based on accrual of unlawful presence,” Bier added.

Yann LeCun

Yann LeCun, a pioneer in AI research and the former Chief AI Scientist at Meta, had a very curt and perplexed response to the change in green card policy.

“Why?” wrote the ACM Turing Award Laureate on X, who reposted an article detailing the DHS’s announcement.

LeCun was born in France and immigrated to the US in the late 1980s.

Garry Tan

Garry Tan, the CEO of the startup accelerator Y Combinator, called the new guidance “bad and misguided.”

“We need to keep smart people in the country to build the future and build tomorrow’s businesses that employ millions of people,” he wrote on X.

Ash Jogalekar

Ash Jogalekar, a Microsoft senior project manager working on agentic AI, described the memorandum as “self-sabotage” in an X post on Friday.

“As a scientist and immigrant who loves this country, I cannot think of worse ways to cripple American scientific competitiveness while other countries surge ahead,” Jogalekar wrote. “It is completely pointless. Between the funding cuts and rash, irrational policies like these, China could not have done worse if they had decided to sabotage science in the U.S.”

• My husband and I retired to our Oregon farm full time.
• We now share the farmhouse with our daughter, son-in-law, and grandson.
• Multi-generational living has brought both chaos and deep joy.

My husband and I bought our farm in Banks, Oregon, 25 miles outside Portland, in 2017. From the start, we dreamed of retiring there and envisioned multiple generations of our family living on the property.

We had plenty of room with acreage, a four-bedroom farmhouse, and a barn. My daughter Maria and her husband Stephen moved to the farm where she ran her horse business while my husband Scot and I lived in Montana, following a job for him.

Retirement took longer than we planned. And we never envisioned living in a multigenerational home.

My daughter paid us rent

We longed for the ease of country living and wanted to help our daughter launch her business: training horses, teaching people to ride, and caring for 20 horses. Maria and Stephen paid rent and did the heavy lifting of farm life. They fixed whatever broke (pipes in winter, the tractor in summer), maintaining the barn and property.

Scot and I loved the space — a hay field, pond, garden, horses, ducks, a white fence, and a red barn that reminded me of the best part of my girlhood. I especially loved a barn in the rain, listening to the plink, plink against its metal roof.

A year and a half ago, when Scot finished his last job, retirement became a reality. We moved to our farm full time, sharing the farmhouse with our daughter, son-in-law, and later, their baby. We planned to build a second small home. Nothing fancy. But the construction bids we received were astronomical. While an even smaller second home than what we dreamed is hopefully in our future, four adults plus one grandbaby under one roof was just right.

We loved cuddling our grandchild

Living with an 8-month-old baby who wasn’t ours was a joy. We cuddled, rocked, read, and sang to him while he slept through the night and passed him back when he was cranky. I took him on stroller walks in the mornings when Maria fed the horses. We talked to the ducks and listened for the barn owl. When he squealed with delight, I was one big grin. Living with our offspring lifted the quiet of our empty nest years. I was absolutely in my happy place.

Of course, there were bumps.

Sometimes the space felt crowded, and I needed more privacy. Most days, the German Shepherds’ hair (they should be called German “Shedders”) clung to everything. Occasionally, dirty dishes waited in the sink too long; shared spaces were messier than I preferred. I had to give up being a control freak. If I needed quiet, I’d read in our bedroom or write at my desk. I’d step outside and remember why we bought the property: to live closer to our loved ones and to the earth.

When I witnessed Maria and Stephen being tender and silly with their son, when Stephen and I cooked dinner together, and when I stood under a star-splashed sky, the inconveniences of us all living in one home felt trivial. I was grateful we made this move.

I grew up living with multiple generations

It’s natural to me to have family on one property. I partially grew up on a family ranch in Tenino, Washington, with grandparents, parents, sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Each family had their own trailer — single-wides with tinny front doors and thin walls. I shared a room with my two sisters in bunk beds stacked three high, me in the middle bunk.

I spent weekends and chunks of summers on that ranch, romping with my posse of sisters and cousins, riding horses, swimming in the icy river, teasing chickens, and building forts out of hay bales in the red barn. I watched calves, colts/fillies, and piglets being born. Countless hours were spent roaming in the woods, talking to fairies, following my imagination. I got to be myself in dusty Wranglers and mud-covered Justin cowboy boots. The Bar P, as it was called, balanced out living in the suburbs with all its rules and the ways I was expected to be a polite girl. The ranch was freedom.

Half a century later, my husband and I created our own multi-generational farm.

My son, daughter-in-law, and 2-year-old grandson live in Southern California and visit when they can. We’ll make room for them if they want farm life too.

Last summer, my son and his family stayed with us, soon after my daughter’s son was born. While my 2-year-old grandson fed the ducks and “drove” the tractor, my daughter nursed her newborn, my son-in-law grilled delicious burgers, and my son told the best stories — my heart boomed. I thought of my grandparents gathering us all around the picnic table or the campfire, and understood to the bone why they cherished having their progeny together. How ranch time was bliss time for them, like it was for me now. How freedom is being outdoors with my family, with room to ponder the sky and dream.

• After my husband of 17 years died, celebrations were hard for my daughter and me.
• We tried to honor his memory by sticking to traditions, but those felt hollow without him.
• We found a way to celebrate the person he was and the wonderful things he contributed to our lives.

Danny, my husband of 17 years, died three days before Valentine’s Day.

I felt sick at the store displays I saw. It felt cruel to see people celebrating love when I had just lost mine. My then 9-year-old, though, had seen how her dad treated me during his life. She pulled our family friends aside — friends who were there to mourn with us — and she asked them to take her to the store so she could buy flowers for me. Even in his absence, she said, she wanted me to know I was loved.

Our daughter’s birthday was the next event on the calendar, followed immediately by Mother’s Day, and then our wedding anniversary. Our local Waikiki friends put on a birthday beach bash for Serafina, piled high with food, hugs, and smiles. It almost made her forget that “he promised to make it to my 10^th birthday,” she told me after.

Days later, on what would have been our wedding anniversary, I walked to the ocean and scattered flower petals in the waves, the salt in my tears which were indistinguishable from the salt in the air. I came home, baked an angel food cake, and watched one of our favorite movies, “The Princess Bride”.

Later that year, on Danny’s birthday, I baked his favorite black-bottomed cupcakes. Our tradition. I took some to a local bar to share and downed a few shots of Jameson in his honor.

We didn’t celebrate. We commemorated. We wallowed. We wondered if it would always be like this, heaviness accompanying what had previously been joyful.

I wanted my daughter to remember her dad, but I didn’t want every memory to be marked by mourning

Together, my daughter and I walked through several years of sad rituals. Cupcakes for his birthday. Not putting the Christmas tree up until after his birthday. “Deadpool,” and whiskey on the anniversary of his death. Angel food for our wedding anniversary.

Finally, after seven years of missing him, we turned a corner. In December 2025, the two of us decided that Danny would not have wanted us to live like this. He had never been someone who was stuck in the past. He was curious, and goofy, and full of joyful gestures, and I thought we should be, too

A potential new tradition took hold

Serafina was in her senior year of high school. She had friends and big milestones to look forward to. We had moved to Seattle a year earlier, leaving the Waikiki apartment where Danny died and sad memories lived.

This year, we decided, it was time to remember the hopeful energy we both loved. We decided we’d make a birthday dinner from a collection of his family’s recipes. Serafina chose the family taco salad, which bears little resemblance to either tacos or salad. As we crushed the Doritos and poured the condensed cheese soup “dressing,” we laughed. This is exactly how we wanted to remember him — nontraditional, not tethered to any notion of the “right” way to do things, and maybe a little bit addicted to junk food.

While mourning is important, I think it’s also a little self-indulgent. It focuses on our feelings of what’s missing rather than on celebrating what we loved about the ones we’ve lost. When we dug into that taco salad, we found ourselves talking about the perspective Danny had brought to our lives. The surprises. The wonder. It was a tribute to the person and what he had contributed to our lives, and that’s something worth celebrating.

• Guy Fieri shared his top burger tips with Business Insider to help with your weekend barbecue. 
• Fieri recommends using American cheese because it “melts really well.” 
• He also smashes his burger patties to “get all that delicious caramelization going.” 

Summer is almost here, and that can only mean one thing — it’s barbecue season! 

And who better to call on for burger tips than the Mayor of Flavortown himself, Guy Fieri. 

“This may be a more complicated answer than you bargained for because it’s not just about a burger recipe,” Fieri told Business Insider when asked how to make the perfect burger. “It’s about the execution of the whole deal. You can get down with whatever toppings you want, but the basics have to be covered.” 

Season and smash

Fieri’s first tip? Start with seasoned ground beef. He recommends going for “80/20,” which means 80% lean and 20% fat. 

“Start with your seasoned ground beef in a ball and place it on the hottest griddle or cast iron pan you can get,” Fieri explained. 

Then, get ready to smash. 

“You smash it down hard, we’re talking a half-inch thick,” he continued. “And let it crisp up and get all that delicious caramelization going.” 

Once the sides of your patty are crunchy, flip it over and let the other side brown up. Now it’s time for the cheese. 

The cheese is key

“If you’re going to do cheese, try some American slices because they melt really well,” Fieri said. 

And the Mayor of Flavortown has quite the trick to make sure you get the perfect cheeseburger. 

“Put some sort of dome or metal bowl over the top and squirt a little water underneath,” Fieri said. “That steam will melt your cheese before you overcook your burger.” 

Don’t forget the bun and ‘LTOP’

Fieri recommends using a toasted and buttered brioche bun to build your burger, which also needs what he calls “LTOP”: lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickle. 

“But you gotta shred that lettuce, slice your tomato, and cut those white onions and pickles so thin that they only have one side,” Fieri added. 

• I taught my daughter practical independence before my second child arrived.
• Her confidence and emotional resilience grew as she learned new skills.
• The shift made our family life smoother and less stressful.

About 15 months ago, I had my second child. In the lead-up to the birth, chaotic, sleep-deprived memories of life with a newborn came flooding back. My partner and I knew exactly what was coming our way this time, and we wanted to be prepared.

To try to make the transition to a two-child life easier, we decided to teach our daughter to be more independent before the new baby arrived. We hoped that this would help when my partner went back to work, and I would often be splitting my attention between a newborn baby and a preschooler.

We taught her how to get dressed

My daughter was almost 4 when her brother was born, and she’s always been a confident and capable child. We decided to use this to our advantage, knowing that she was both physically able and emotionally more equipped to understand why the baby might take up more of our time.

So we got to work, tackling one thing at a time.

First, we taught her how to dress herself in the mornings. We patiently watched (and winced) as she learned to pull on leggings, navigate her way through the sleeves and neckholes of sweaters, until she was even an expert at slipping on her own tights. Soon she was putting together her outfits each morning, which helped no end when I was tackling a screaming newborn into the stroller for the day care run.

Brushing her own teeth came next; she learned to steady her hand, squeezing the toothpaste onto the brush and rinsing it after each go. Not long afterward, I wasn’t allowed to brush her hair anymore. Instead, she would stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, painstakingly dragging the brush through her tangled nest of hair after an action-filled day at preschool.

She became more independent

As the months went by, she became increasingly independent. If she was thirsty, she’d grab a glass from the kitchen drawer and fill it up with water, often dragging a dining chair across the floor behind her to make sure she could reach the sink. If she was hungry, she’d get a bowl and make herself a snack.

We soon realized that being more independent was helping our daughter just as much as it was helping us. Learning new skills and tackling new tasks boosted her confidence. She became even more sociable than before, effortlessly making friends in the playground and not batting an eyelid at being dropped off at a new activity club.

Another unexpected benefit is that because she’s able to do so many things herself, she has very rarely gotten frustrated with her brother. And whilst I see the occasional flicker of annoyance in her eyes when he messes up her toys or rips one of her drawings, she never takes it out on him.

We’re very invested in our daughter. We play games, read books, and are always thinking of fun and educational activities to do with her. But she’s also happy drawing, making up games, and watching television by herself. She doesn’t need us by her side every minute of the day.

She’s confident at 5

My daughter is now 5 and in her first year of elementary school. She carries her own backpack to school, which a lot of older kids don’t even do.

At the classroom door each morning, so many parents hover around the teacher, their kids clinging to their legs, being gently coerced to go inside. We give our daughter a big hug, then step back at the gate to watch her walk into her classroom independently and confidently.

I shed a tear thinking that one day she will leave home for university or for her first job. But if she carries on at this rate, she’ll be more than ready to face the big bad world when the time comes. Her skills, confidence, and emotional resilience mean that she’s not scared to face challenges.