My child is an absolute angel. An angel who sometimes throws a tantrum to assert his increasing independence; an angel who will always try (and often succeed) to logically talk me out of whatever it is I'm asking him to do; an angel who while testing the limits of boundaries, never infringes upon the limits of my love for him. I know although my son is my favorite angel, that I am not alone and that other moms have their angels as well.
My son and I spent the afternoon relaxing on Kettle Cove State Park's beach, redirecting the meandering river heading down to the beach, predicting how far the waves would crash up on the rocks, and trying to figure out why the cormorants spread their wings in the sun to dry and the gulls didn't. We collected periwinkle shells, rocks, seaweed, and even teeth that had washed in with the tide and sorted them according to colors, textures, and size. We then used these treasures and some leaves we had collected to make different shapes and funny stick people in the sand. All in all it was a perfect Fall morning.
My son stumbled upon a friend on the beach who was there with his mom and his two younger siblings. While the boys were playing, the mom and I traded the morning's stories. It was clear from her red eyes that she had been crying. As it turns out, she had attempted to take all three of the kids (all under the age of 5) to a restaurant for lunch. Two of the three started crying before the food came and the other decided that staying in his seat was a less entertaining option than running around. She told me how she was so embarrassed, how everyone was staring at her, and how none of the other moms offered to give her a hand as she was trying to get all three kids safely out of the restaurant before losing her cool altogether and bursting into tears. "Sometimes I think I'm the only one who has kids that act like this. Everyone just kept staring at me." I glanced out at her three children who were now happily playing, digging for treasures, and smiling from ear to ear. They were beautiful little children who were happily engaged in learning and exploring. I reminded her that all of our little angels have their moments and told her that I admired her for being brave enough to attempt a restaurant alone with three kids under the age of 5. Haven't we all had days like this when we felt like we weren't doing this parenting thing right? Where, for even the briefest moment, we let the frustrating behaviors cast a shadow on how wonderfully genuine and beautiful our children are?
On my drive home, I couldn't stop thinking about this mom and how alone she felt. All of us moms want what is best for our children and I would guess that most of us slightly take it to heart when they are not behaving their best. On top of this, to feel like the whole world is looking at you and judging your parenting skills during one of your angel's "moments", when you are already feeling awful and trying to best help your child, just seems unfair.
One of the best pieces of parenting advice I've ever received is to block out anyone else but your child and meeting his needs when he is in a meltdown. Help him feel safe and calm so that he can get to a place where he can express himself using words. With this in mind, I've tried to give space to children who were having meltdowns so that their parents could help support the child the way they know best. I've always tried to offer a "I know what you're going through" smile and have never judged because I have been there, done that. Would this woman today have misconstrued my "giving her space" as me not being supportive? We all have different comfort levels and feelings centered around helping with other people's children and I acknowledge that. Where are your thoughts on this? What would you do in this situation? What would you want people to do for you?
Being a mom is one of the most challenging and wonderful blessings in this world. Every day I feel privileged to be Dylan's mom and to be his first teacher in this world. Let's help each other cherish and relish in the up's, while supporting each other through the down's. My belief is that raising children with large, understanding, and open hearts first begins by modeling the traits of empathy, compassion, and kindness. They are watching us, perhaps more closely even than we are watching them.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
Princess For a Day (Kind-of)...
This year the cold weather will not defeat me. I am determined, if not slightly crazed!
Waking up, it was cold and windy, but as an eternal optimist I convinced myself that the sun would prevail! My son said that he wanted to make a book that would tell other animal scientists what kind of leaves there were. I've heard people rave about Wells Reserve at Laudholm and thought it might be a great place to collect leaves, so we were off. Upon entering the reserve, I was knocked down (yes, to the ground, bruise on my head, pathetically crying!) by my car door after an angry, strong gush of wind. As my son was kissing my head to make my "boo-boo" go away, I almost retreated to the warmth of the car and contemplated using the "injury" (insert lots of drama here!) to go home and nap. My son told me that my boo-boo was gone and that he had turned me into a princess. How could I break his heart and say we had to leave because his kisses didn't work? I'm a sucker for the magic of sweetness and love and so I persevered.
From that point on, my son called me Princess Mommy for the day. We decided to walk the Knight Trail and along the way we collected maple, oak, and birch leaves to use for our leaf identification book. We observed many different kinds of seeds, heard quiet footsteps crashing through the woods, watched the squirrels scurrying around collecting acorns in their cheeks, looked for dragons camouflaged and hiding, used our magnifying glass to investigate mosses, ferns, and mushrooms, and raised our binoculars to take a closer look at the birds flying overhead. As the trail turned into the Barrier Beach Trail, there was a large clearing that we decided to stop and have a picnic in. After eating, we laid down, held hands, and became observers of the sky above. With all of the wind, my 3 1/2 year old son was able to see how clouds moved throughout the sky and watched the white swirling within itself as they changed shape. He suggested that it was fairies who liked to blow the clouds around so that they could make pictures. Within the 20 minutes, we watched dark clouds quickly get replaced by lighter ones and felt the temperature changes that came with each. Whenever the wind would really pick up we watched as the leaves fell down upon us and tried to catch as many as we could. Dylan noticed that the seeds we had been observing earlier were now flying through the air, swirling down in spirals and he wanted to know why. I closed my eyes and was thankful for these moments of peace, calm, and connectedness with my son, with the world.
When we reached the Barrier Beach Trail we followed it down to the beach. Dylan (who apparently received my crazy gene) ripped off his sneakers and socks and ran down to the newly formed tidal pools left by low tide. He found a few crabs, a starfish, many types of shells, and tried to layer flat rocks upon each other so that the ocean didn't "take" the water in the tidal pool away. He was absorbed in a special place of mystery and was completely oblivious to the cold. Dylan proudly presented me, the princess, with a large shell filled with sand, sea weed, and 2 dead crabs. Do real princesses get dead crabs?
Following the Laird-Norton Trail back to the Visitors Center was an easy walk and we were protected from the wind. Dylan went off the trail and got his feet soaked. "Oh man, it must be all that green stuff that made it so wet. It's everywhere. See it, Mommy Princess?" What he was describing was all of the moss and I am confident that for years to come he will remember that moss means wet! Wet feet and all we were smiling and happy. All around us the air was fresh, the leaves fell like confetti from the sky, and we were alone to laugh, hold hands, sing, and wonder. My mind was no longer racing with all that I had been worried about earlier that day, my son was engaged pretending to be an animal scientist, and I was completely present in the moment. It's the little moments that matter when you allow them to. It's nearly impossible to press stop on time, but that doesn't mean we can't and shouldn't press pause every now and then. In the words of Ferris Bueller, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." As if life as a princess couldn't get any better, Dylan said that we should stop and get ice cream on the way home because "That's what princesses like to eat. And their little boys do to." (Clearly, he isn't abiding by the "when you are wearing 3 layers and still freezing, with wet feet, ice cream is out of the question rule....)
For more information on Wells Reserve at Laudholm, check out:
http://www.wellsreserve.org/
Happy Travels!
Waking up, it was cold and windy, but as an eternal optimist I convinced myself that the sun would prevail! My son said that he wanted to make a book that would tell other animal scientists what kind of leaves there were. I've heard people rave about Wells Reserve at Laudholm and thought it might be a great place to collect leaves, so we were off. Upon entering the reserve, I was knocked down (yes, to the ground, bruise on my head, pathetically crying!) by my car door after an angry, strong gush of wind. As my son was kissing my head to make my "boo-boo" go away, I almost retreated to the warmth of the car and contemplated using the "injury" (insert lots of drama here!) to go home and nap. My son told me that my boo-boo was gone and that he had turned me into a princess. How could I break his heart and say we had to leave because his kisses didn't work? I'm a sucker for the magic of sweetness and love and so I persevered.
From that point on, my son called me Princess Mommy for the day. We decided to walk the Knight Trail and along the way we collected maple, oak, and birch leaves to use for our leaf identification book. We observed many different kinds of seeds, heard quiet footsteps crashing through the woods, watched the squirrels scurrying around collecting acorns in their cheeks, looked for dragons camouflaged and hiding, used our magnifying glass to investigate mosses, ferns, and mushrooms, and raised our binoculars to take a closer look at the birds flying overhead. As the trail turned into the Barrier Beach Trail, there was a large clearing that we decided to stop and have a picnic in. After eating, we laid down, held hands, and became observers of the sky above. With all of the wind, my 3 1/2 year old son was able to see how clouds moved throughout the sky and watched the white swirling within itself as they changed shape. He suggested that it was fairies who liked to blow the clouds around so that they could make pictures. Within the 20 minutes, we watched dark clouds quickly get replaced by lighter ones and felt the temperature changes that came with each. Whenever the wind would really pick up we watched as the leaves fell down upon us and tried to catch as many as we could. Dylan noticed that the seeds we had been observing earlier were now flying through the air, swirling down in spirals and he wanted to know why. I closed my eyes and was thankful for these moments of peace, calm, and connectedness with my son, with the world.
When we reached the Barrier Beach Trail we followed it down to the beach. Dylan (who apparently received my crazy gene) ripped off his sneakers and socks and ran down to the newly formed tidal pools left by low tide. He found a few crabs, a starfish, many types of shells, and tried to layer flat rocks upon each other so that the ocean didn't "take" the water in the tidal pool away. He was absorbed in a special place of mystery and was completely oblivious to the cold. Dylan proudly presented me, the princess, with a large shell filled with sand, sea weed, and 2 dead crabs. Do real princesses get dead crabs?
Following the Laird-Norton Trail back to the Visitors Center was an easy walk and we were protected from the wind. Dylan went off the trail and got his feet soaked. "Oh man, it must be all that green stuff that made it so wet. It's everywhere. See it, Mommy Princess?" What he was describing was all of the moss and I am confident that for years to come he will remember that moss means wet! Wet feet and all we were smiling and happy. All around us the air was fresh, the leaves fell like confetti from the sky, and we were alone to laugh, hold hands, sing, and wonder. My mind was no longer racing with all that I had been worried about earlier that day, my son was engaged pretending to be an animal scientist, and I was completely present in the moment. It's the little moments that matter when you allow them to. It's nearly impossible to press stop on time, but that doesn't mean we can't and shouldn't press pause every now and then. In the words of Ferris Bueller, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." As if life as a princess couldn't get any better, Dylan said that we should stop and get ice cream on the way home because "That's what princesses like to eat. And their little boys do to." (Clearly, he isn't abiding by the "when you are wearing 3 layers and still freezing, with wet feet, ice cream is out of the question rule....)
For more information on Wells Reserve at Laudholm, check out:
http://www.wellsreserve.org/
Happy Travels!
Nature Matters!
When I was pregnant with my son, I went through a reflection process that I would imagine is common for most soon-to-be moms. I felt compelled to examine my childhood and the way my parents raised me. What did I want to "repeat" with my own child? What important values did my parents pass onto me and how? How do I raise my child to be appreciative of what he has, empathetic toward others, independent, caring, to have a feeling of connectedness with people and his natural surroundings, and to have the inner strength and courage to challenge injustices? From the moment he was born I was struck by an intense need to show him how beautiful his world was and to introduce him to the small treasures of nature. I wanted to show him the peace that could be found within the quiet footsteps of a long walk through the woods, the ways the crashing of waves could steady the mind long enough to bring clarity, and the feeling you get of being part of something bigger when standing on top of a mountain looking down on the world below. I wanted him to develop a sense of "new materialism", not based on objects or possessions, but based on experience, appreciation, and wonder.
Last night, I had the honor of attending a presentation at Friends School of Portland by presenter David Sobel. Sobel has championed "place-based education" as a way to help students find a sense of self within the context of their local surroundings. He proposes immersing children within hands-on, experiential learning as we facilitate their natural tendency to bond with nature. Sobel puts words, research, and action behind many parents' intuitions on the benefits of getting kids out into nature.
Sobel shared statistics that were staggering:
*In 1919, children had a range of six miles to freely explore and play in the woods. Today that range has shrunk to less than 300 yards.
*There is an 80% decrease in infectious diseases in kids in outdoor-based preschools when compared with indoor preschools.
*Time in nature drastically decreases ADD/ADHD symptoms and depression.
*Time dedicated to play, including recess, increases children's test scores.
*Physicians are actually starting to prescribe time in the outdoors to kids to decrease anxiety, diabetes, etc.
Sobel shared a recent study that looked at the environmental behaviors of 2000 randomly selected adults between the ages of 20 and 80. The study found that adults who were exposed to unstructured, child-directed outdoor play as children held values and exhibited behaviors consistent with environmental stewardship. These were the adults who recycled, became conservationists, voted for environmental issues, and saw themselves connected to the Earth as a whole. The study found that other activities such as gardening, tending to animals, and environmental education curriculum did not have as great of an impact on environmental stewardship.
Most parents I speak with seem perplexed by how to get their kids outside and away from the 6 - 8 hours a day of technology that has become today's norm. Many say that they are afraid to let their kids play "alone" in nature, as Sobel suggests is needed, because of a fear for their child getting hurt. All of us parents get this and have had these thoughts. We love our children and want to keep them from any hurt in this world that we can. Richard Louv, author of Last Child in the Woods, shares that, " In a typical week, only 6 percent of children ages nine to thirteen play outside on their own." Sobel argues that if parents do a risk-benefit analysis it will become clear that the benefits of granting exploration and empowerment upon children will drastically outweigh any risks that "might" occur. From my experience as an educator, a 35 year old "child" at heart, and a parent, I would argue that children will choose to be outdoors if they are allowed to play freely and if the wonder of learning from the natural world is modeled by the grown-ups that they look up to. For me, it took taking a close look at my own habits and making sure my daily actions were truly aligned with my values, my beliefs, my heart and that which I wanted my son to take away from his childhood. We are all parents trying to muddle through this wonderfully intricate maze of beautiful ups and downs, endless questions , and rich, teachable moments that we call parenting. Amazingly, we are doing this solely with instructions written by our past, our dreams, and our heart. Maybe having a little help from nature can make our jobs a little bit easier...
For more information on the movement to connect children to the outdoors, check out David Sobel at http://www.antiochne.edu/directory/employee_detail.cfm?id=7160002555 or the Children and Nature Network at http://www.childrenandnature.org/.
I'd love to hear your stories on how you connect your children to the outdoors! Happy Travels!
Last night, I had the honor of attending a presentation at Friends School of Portland by presenter David Sobel. Sobel has championed "place-based education" as a way to help students find a sense of self within the context of their local surroundings. He proposes immersing children within hands-on, experiential learning as we facilitate their natural tendency to bond with nature. Sobel puts words, research, and action behind many parents' intuitions on the benefits of getting kids out into nature.
Sobel shared statistics that were staggering:
*In 1919, children had a range of six miles to freely explore and play in the woods. Today that range has shrunk to less than 300 yards.
*There is an 80% decrease in infectious diseases in kids in outdoor-based preschools when compared with indoor preschools.
*Time in nature drastically decreases ADD/ADHD symptoms and depression.
*Time dedicated to play, including recess, increases children's test scores.
*Physicians are actually starting to prescribe time in the outdoors to kids to decrease anxiety, diabetes, etc.
Sobel shared a recent study that looked at the environmental behaviors of 2000 randomly selected adults between the ages of 20 and 80. The study found that adults who were exposed to unstructured, child-directed outdoor play as children held values and exhibited behaviors consistent with environmental stewardship. These were the adults who recycled, became conservationists, voted for environmental issues, and saw themselves connected to the Earth as a whole. The study found that other activities such as gardening, tending to animals, and environmental education curriculum did not have as great of an impact on environmental stewardship.
Most parents I speak with seem perplexed by how to get their kids outside and away from the 6 - 8 hours a day of technology that has become today's norm. Many say that they are afraid to let their kids play "alone" in nature, as Sobel suggests is needed, because of a fear for their child getting hurt. All of us parents get this and have had these thoughts. We love our children and want to keep them from any hurt in this world that we can. Richard Louv, author of Last Child in the Woods, shares that, " In a typical week, only 6 percent of children ages nine to thirteen play outside on their own." Sobel argues that if parents do a risk-benefit analysis it will become clear that the benefits of granting exploration and empowerment upon children will drastically outweigh any risks that "might" occur. From my experience as an educator, a 35 year old "child" at heart, and a parent, I would argue that children will choose to be outdoors if they are allowed to play freely and if the wonder of learning from the natural world is modeled by the grown-ups that they look up to. For me, it took taking a close look at my own habits and making sure my daily actions were truly aligned with my values, my beliefs, my heart and that which I wanted my son to take away from his childhood. We are all parents trying to muddle through this wonderfully intricate maze of beautiful ups and downs, endless questions , and rich, teachable moments that we call parenting. Amazingly, we are doing this solely with instructions written by our past, our dreams, and our heart. Maybe having a little help from nature can make our jobs a little bit easier...
For more information on the movement to connect children to the outdoors, check out David Sobel at http://www.antiochne.edu/directory/employee_detail.cfm?id=7160002555 or the Children and Nature Network at http://www.childrenandnature.org/.
I'd love to hear your stories on how you connect your children to the outdoors! Happy Travels!
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Enjoying Maine
Parenting is personal. It’s one of life’s grayest areas where there are no “right” answers, where individual life experiences and expectations mold our parenting styles, and where personal philosophies and beliefs lead us through reflective discussions with friends and family on how to best raise our children. My closest friends and I have varying viewpoints on many things: bedtime procedures & times, nutritional needs, and discipline techniques. When discussing whether or not kids spend too much time indoors there is always uniform agreement; along with stories of our youthful days spent exploring in nature. Luckily, spending time with your children outdoors is easy as long as you pack some curiosity, a little patience, a dash of imagination, and know where to go!
This summer, I have been a woman on a mission: Enjoy Maine! Our family has committed to visiting one new Maine State Park a week. We picked up a green State Park Passport from a ranger in which we stamp each new park visited and keep some brief notes on each trip’s adventures. Throughout the upcoming months, I’d like to share a few of our favorite places with you and I hope that you will share some of your family’s hidden treasures with me.
My newest favorite place in Maine, which changes almost weekly it seems, is Reid State Park located on Sequinland Road in Georgetown and approximately one hour from Portland. There are two beaches there, Mile Beach and Half-Mile Beach, offering large rock outcrops, meandering streams winding down to the ocean, viewings of the endangered piping plovers and least terns, and more tidal pools than one could explore in a day. Both the lifeguard and the ranger told me that it rarely gets crowded, making this even more of a gem! Our favorite part of Reid State Park was the “Lagoon” area, which I have nicknamed “Children’s Paradise”. I highly suggest that you check the tide charts (http://www.maineboats.com/tide-charts/southcoast) and go at low tide. This area is home to a wave-less lagoon off to the right of the parking lot, a concession stand, and a bathroom/shower area. The spot we spent the most time at was to the left of the parking lot. At low tide, there is a sandy beach and large rocks for exploring. The water is shallow enough (only reached my three year old’s knees) to walk across to other rock outcrops that Dylan called “islands”. You might want to bring a bucket, a magnifying glass, and a net. We were able to find various crab species, sea urchins, periwinkles, tiny fish, and watched another family find a baby lobster. It was great for Dylan to learn how to observe an animal carefully and caringly before returning it to its home. Such a special and kid-friendly place for observing the ocean world! Happy exploring!
Surprise Yourself: Canoeing with Children
You’re going to canoe how far? What will Dylan do in the canoe? Do you know you are crazy? Truth be told, even this nature girl was a bit nervous about completing the Moose River Bow Trip with a three-year old. I worried about everything that could possibly go wrong: Dylan being bored in the canoe for 7 hours a day; tipping over the boat; the mostly cloudy with probable showers forecast for the week; and even getting lost. I called my Dad, who was joining us on our adventure, the day before the trip to share the weather forecast and my reservations. He didn’t offer the “out” I was hoping for, only saying, “You’re worrying too much. Plan it out. We’ll adjust as we go along. Step out of your comfort zone.” I planned, I packed, and I prayed!
Torrential downpours greeted us as we drove over the Jackman city line where we spent the night before our journey. When I mentioned that this might be a “sign”, my husband laughed and said it was a sign: a sign to pack rain gear. Falling asleep that night, I wondered what in the world we were doing and again rehashed all of the potential blunders that might occur along the river and my plan for keeping Dylan safe and happy.
The next three days were magical (and sunny). Dylan wore his “floatie vest” (life jacket) and sat in the front of the canoe on a cushion with his backpack that he had packed himself. It’s contents included a net, a few favorite super hero figurines, three books about things he thought he might see on the trip (bugs, pirates, and space ships!), a magnifying glass, his water bottle, and several snacks. Our family spoke freely and openly about everything silly and serious, had quiet, reflective moments floating down the river, and laughed a lot. We saw wildlife up close in its natural habitat: dragonflies, butterflies, a beaver making a dam, frogs, kingfishers, otters, and a moose swimming in the middle of a lake. Dylan’s favorite part was riding down the rapids. After each trip down, he would shriek out loud and beg to go down the “river’s waterslide” again. Each day we spent 6 – 8 hours paddling along, stopping to eat lunch on the sandbars, taking refreshing swims, and finding the best place to set up camp for the night. The trip went smoothly and when it didn’t, we adjusted. Whenever Dylan asked to get out and explore we did. We let him get his own snacks, try to catch fish with his net, paddle an oar, and take pictures of his favorite parts. When the rapids were too fast we walked him around on land and went down the rips adults only. We took an extra day to complete the trip.
Along the river, I shed my worry and fears, and my family had the time of our lives! By sharing this story, I hope to share my lessons learned along the Moose River:
1. Step outside of your comfort zone every now and then. Surprise yourself!
2. Spend less time worrying and more time enjoying.
3. Things don’t need to go perfectly to be wonderful. Plan it out and adjust as needed.
If you are new to canoeing and want to try it out with your children, check out the Scarborough Marsh Audubon Center http://www.maineaudubon.org/explore/centers/marsh.shtml for canoe rentals & guided tours. The website http://familyfun.go.com/vacations/great-vacations/outdoor-adventures/paddle-pushers-713770/ and the book Cradle to Canoe: Camping and Canoeing with Children by Debra & Rolf Kraiker are both great resources to browse through. Happy Travels!
Taking Time For You
Every so often in life, you stumble upon a place that becomes you, long after your footsteps have disappeared from its streets: Castine is such a place. A small coastal village sitting 2 ½ hours north of Portland, Castine’s population of 1300 is small, but its heart is larger than life. This town is not for those needing to be entertained in the traditional sense; there are no water parks, no movie theaters, and no golden arches. If the townspeople of Castine were the boastful type, they would describe their home as a hidden gem with country inns, an intriguing history, beautiful sunsets, a whispering ocean breeze, and a genuineness not easily put into words.
Walking the streets of Castine offers a pleasing look into the past with historical markers, multiple forts, and beautifully kept historical buildings depicting life from the 1600’s to present. The village of Castine is warm, inviting, and simply beautiful. Castine is a magical one-of-a-kind place: where gentlemen tip their hats to ladies offering a “good day”; where passerbyers greet each other with a smile and a hello; where a grandfather invites your son on his yacht so he can pretend he is the captain like the man admittingly enjoyed when he was young; where the cadets from the Maine Maritime Academy step aside to let you pass, modeling kindness and respect; and where quality of life is held as the standard of a good life.
Each of our mornings in Castine were spent the same way: Dylan and I walking down to the village’s one bakery, Bah’s Bakehouse, for a delicious pastry, tea, and hello’s with the locals. People know when you are not from here and instantly engage you in conversation on a variety of topics centered around who you are and your life experiences, not what you do and what you have. Our days in Castine were wonderful and kept the hurried life I left behind at bay. I was able to spend most of the day reflecting on my life, writing letters to friends, enjoying quiet, uninterrupted moments with my son, journaling, watching the rolling waves, figuring out some personal challenges I had been facing, and recklessly indulging in doing absolutely nothing of any importance to anyone. Long strolls, climbing old forts, oogling over the mansions along the water, lounging at the local library, hiking through Witherlee Woods, perusing the town’s only bookstore, and sitting on the weathered rocks at Dyce Head Lighthouse were the fabric of ours days. We kept no calendar, we didn’t watch the clock, we were held accountable to only ourselves.
These quiet moments served as a reflective mirror, bringing into focus who I was; offering a chance to see myself outside of the hurriedness of everyday life and the seemingly immediateness of life’s everyday challenges. I felt thankful for the time to reconnect with myself and was able to look at the story I’m writing, which is my life. As moms, we often find ourselves in a cycle of giving to others and sometimes, if only for a brief moment, we need to give ourselves a little of whatever we need, whether it be time alone on the beach, a weekend away, or a night out with friends. On my last day in Castine, I ordered my usual tea at Bah’s Bakehouse and smiled as I read the message attached – “One of the best actions we can take, with courage, is to relax.” So, moms, I challenge you to find time to relax. You deserve it!
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