Nothing But The Truth

It’s that time of year again.  Award season for the film industry.  I’ve been feverishly watching the SAG nominated films, so I can send in my ballot on time.  Yesterday, I watched a film I had actually never heard of before.  (Now, I do live under a rock, so that’s probably not too surprising.) The film is called Captain Fantastic.  Have you heard of it?  I thought it was wonderful.  It has got me thinking about how we choose to raise our children,  and, if and when, we should shield them from life’s truths.  When your child asks you a question, do you tell them the truth? Do you sugar coat things? Do you completely avoid certain things?  Or do you tell them the honest truth regardless of their age and how tough the answer might be?  The father in this film, played by Vigo Mortinsen, tells his children the unfiltered truth.  He also raises them in the woods, teaches them survival skills, and “home” schools them without the use (or need) of today’s technology.  You might be starting to get the picture.  Hippie parents raising their tribe of 6 children, living off the land, yada yada.  All of that is inconsequential.  The thing that interested me the most was the way he handled the truth with his kids.

I often think back to times of tragedy as being instances that must have been tough for parents to offer explanations their children .  The death of a family member.  The terrorist attacks on 9/11. The Sandy Hook school shootings.    I didn’t have my son then, but I remember my brother’s kids being old enough to know about Sandy Hook.  I remember my brother and sister in law talking to them about it, though I don’t recall the specifics of how they did it.  I also know of other parents who completely shielded their kids from the whole event.  I suppose everyone knows their children well enough to know what they can or cannot handle and what it is, as a parent, they want them to be exposed to.  I have often thought about it during these crazy times in America.  O is still too young to understand any of this yet, but it won’t be that long before he starts asking questions about our world…..and well, about everything.

I can’t say for sure (as how can you know until you are in that moment) but I think I’d like to be completely truthful with O.  I tell him so much already.  Things that I am sure people think he is far too young to absorb.  I constantly define words and concepts.  Does he “get” any of it? Probably not, but he does often surprise me with things that have sunk in, unbeknownst to me.  I think about the capacity his brain has to make connections right now.  I figure I should give him as much information as I can.  As he gets older, I’d rather topics not be taboo for us.  I don’t want him to feel embarrassed or ashamed to ever ask something.  I want him to know that if he asks us a question he will hear the truth from us.  If he is looking for an explanation, I’d rather we be in on the conclusion he draws from the facts presented to him.  I don’t want to teach him what to think.  I want to teach him how to think.  Does that make sense?

I also know some parents who don’t want their children to experience difficult things.  Like being around an elderly sick grandparent.  I’ve heard “it’s too upsetting for the children.”  Or failing at something.   Or losing.  But isn’t that all part of life?  The learning is not in the failing…it’s in the getting back up and trying again.  Do people still teach their kids that?  I don’t really remember learning that as a child, but as an actor, it’s a paramount point to understand.  You learn quickly as an actor that there is no shame in trying and failing…only in not trying at all.  I’m not sure that is a common theme in today’s youth twitter feed.

Let me say, I don’t believe a child should be treated as an equal to an adult.  They need guidance and structure.  But I do think a child should be respected as a thinking being.  I think it is important to respect their intellect and their emotional life enough to be straight with them.  I mean, life is wonderful.  But it’s also tough.  Why would we want to shield O from any part of the journey? Eventually, he will be on his own.  Won’t he be better prepared for the world if he has some knowledge of it and the truth on his side?

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.


Mommy Is Sorry


I’m sickened. Bereft. Disappointed. Angry at the outcome. My mind is swimming with retorts and outright scary scenarios of what is to come. I want to tell my child that I am sorry. I tried, in my little way, to make the world better.  I voted.  I donated.  I wrote and talked about it to anyone who’d listen….but it was not enough.  I feel we have failed.  Racism is real and alive in our country. Sexism is solid. Equality is being despicably threatened and ignorance and bullying are being celebrated. What do you say to your child?

Tears are streaming down my face as I write this. The sadness about where we are, as a people, has knocked me over. Do we tell our children that love doesn’t win? Do we tell them the way to win is to bully and lie your way across the finish line? This is not the world I wanted for my son. My solace right now is that, at 2 years old, he is blissfully unaware of this hate that has been so emboldened.

I cannot listen to social media or news shows…my god, I don’t even want to look at a newspaper. I need a break from the circus. The irresponsible coverage of this event has helped it’s outcome. I want to take my family and hide away somewhere in our little cocoon. I want to wake up and believe it is all a bad dream. I need to step away and make a certain peace with this so that it doesn’t continue to take over my life. So that I can continue to parent and raise our child with compassion and knowledge, instead of the hate and ignorance that surrounds us.

Is the outcome of this political election really having such a profound affect on my being?  I have some other serious stuff happening in my life, so maybe that is why I am feeling so gutted? Or is it that I’ve realized, literally overnight, that kindness and love is in the minority, and the ugliness of what humans can be is gaining momentum.  I’ve always been a person who tries to see the good. I always find a way to be happy. I figure it out. Maybe I just need some time. But faith in my fellow country men and women has been knocked out of me. I feel like a lost child who doesn’t recognize her surroundings and can’t find her mother. I will not choose hate. I’m not made that way. But my silver lining is obstructed right now. I’ll have to let you know when I find it. Until then…I’m sorry O. You deserve so much better from the world we brought you into. Mommy is so so sorry.

Until next time, be brave. Give kindness generously. And love like our lives depend on it. I wish more of us understood that they do.



I have finally sat down from a day of days.  Trying to get O out of the house this morning to get to a car service appointment was like pulling teeth. It’s hot and muggy, so THAT doesn’t help matters. We get to the Kia dealership and for a second time, the playroom for use while you wait with your child, was filthy.  Nasty filthy.  Sorry Kia, not impressed! Anyway, O was being really good, so I figured while I was on the other side of hell’s creation, we would go to an indoor play area that he loves at the Mall.  This is where my rant begins.

As a parent, when I take my child to a play area, playground, you name it, my first priority is to watch my child.  On occasion, I have met a friend at a playground, and while we try to chat and catch up, we both have our eyes on our children. We are consistent with guiding our children in play.  You know, the basic stuff.  Wait your turn…no pushing…no grabbing.  This is the mom I want to be friends with.  You know why? Cause this Mom understands that a trip to the mall play area isn’t time off for her.  It’s not “let’s check my Facebook on my phone and tune out for a few minutes.”  Trust me, I know how much we all want some time to ourselves.  I am the first one to say it.  But this isn’t the time.

Taking your child to a group play area is an opportunity to teach your child how to interact socially with others, through play! I am not talking about helicoptering.  I’m talking about guiding when it is clear your child does not know which road to take. If I saw my son push past another child to go first down the slide, I would take him aside and explain that we don’t do that. By WE I mean, a civil kind society, does not do that! If my child just grabbed a toy from another child on the playground, I would explain, yet again, that we don’t do that! We do not just take from others.  We can ask if we may use the toy…or if we may take a turn. But we do not just take! What hope do our children have in this world without some guidance?

I have taught O to wait his turn.  I have taught him not to go down the slide until it’s all clear.  I have taught him that we don’t grab or push.  I am under NO illusion that these “rules for play” won’t need to be reiterated time and time again with him.  Of course they will. He is two.  And he is a child.  It is not any child’s fault for their behavior, lack of manners or lack of restraint.  They are children.  It is not their job to remember the things that will serve them as they grow up in this world.  It is the job of the parent to remind them (again and again) until it becomes the child’s second nature.

I was so freaking annoyed at the play area today.  Countless parents tuned out, letting their entitled children push past others.  Some Moms were hovering, but more engaged in chatting with their mommy friends.  I get it.  We are starved for connection with another adult.  Especially one going through the same trials and tribulations.  But your child has decided to continuously walk up the slide and block it while other children are waiting to go down.  He is completely disregarding other children; ones that are much younger and smaller than he is.  He is now lying on the slide completely blocking its path.  This is going on now for a bit of time.  You do realize that you can say NO to your child, right? I’m not saying you have to go all Joan Crawford on your kid, but at least a gentle reminder that we don’t do that!  Do you really think you are helping your children by not giving them guidance? Do you somehow think you are letting them find their way organically on their own? Or…are you just so unaware and ignorant that you think pushing and taking are good?  I tell you, I am still shaking my head.

I have been alarmed at the behavior of parents of all ages, races and socioeconomic backgrounds.  This epidemic of lack of respect is a wide spread problem.  This sense of entitlement being embedded into children’s minds is happening right there on the playground.  It’s plain as day to anyone tuned into it.  And parents are just sitting back, checking their phones and letting it grow like the social cancer it is.

Yes, I’m pissed.   Cause it’s right in front of me.  The problem and the solution.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember behind every great kid is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading.



When You Think Your Toddler Is An A-Hole


Today my snack of choice is green pea crisps.  They are baked, gluten free and have enough salt to satiate me without being high in sodium.  A good choice of avoidance, I’d say.  But the bag is now empty, so my words need to start filling the page.  What I am about to say is not very nice.  I feel horrible for even thinking it.  As if guilt isn’t already part of my standard operating procedure.  But here it goes.  I don’t always like my toddler.  Yes, of course, I love him.  I’m grateful for him and can’t imagine my life without him.  But sometimes, he can be really unlikable.  Geez, Mary. Yeah, whatever.  I could have picked a much harsher word to describe this child and his unacceptable behavior, but my husband and his grandparents would no doubt frown upon such language chosen to describe their little angel.  I remember a friend of mine saying ” My kids are being such douche bags!”  I remember thinking, “Geez, that’s harsh.”  (What a judgmental singleton I was.). But now I kinda get it.   Cause sometimes it proves oh so true.

With O we have moved into a constant whine, which apparently is reserved just for mommy.  It is like nails on a chalkboard.  He has started kicking and swatting mommy followed by “Ow!” in a sassy “whatcha gonna do about it” tone.  Not to mention ramming Thomas the Tank Engine into the back of mommy’s ankles while I am at the kitchen sink.  Some days are far worse than others, obviously.  When I say “No” he says “Yes.”  When I say “Yes” he says “No.”  It’s maddening. It is non sensical.   No matter how I address the behavior (ignore, redirect, admonish) it persists.  These things are just the tip of the iceberg.  I know, I know, he is two.  He is testing me.  I take cleansing breath after cleansing breath.  It’s no wonder I don’t pass out from all the deep breathing.  I longingly look at the clock willing my husband to walk through the door.  I tell you this,  these aren’t the Terrible Twos….they are the A-Hole Years.

Trust me, I don’t feel good about saying this.  The tougher it gets,  the more I feel like I am failing.  Like there are days that I don’t know if I have the strength of character to get through.  Days where the fantasy of driving away in my car creeps it’s nasty head into my thoughts.  It is shameful.  It is humiliating and loathful.  Who thinks their child is an a-hole?  A two year old, no less.  I’m an ungrateful horrible bitch of a mother.

And then I remember three fundamental truths.  I am human.  I am doing the best I can.  And he is just a child.  I will get through the day.  God willing, I will get another shot at parenting tomorrow.  It’s all gonna be ok.  And just like Newton’s Third Law of Motion states, his unacceptable behavior will be replaced by an equally and opposing sweet, tender and loving state of being.  And just like that,  I can forget why I thought he was unlikable….until he dumps an entire jar of oregano all over the floor just because.  Or when he empties out my pantry for the umpteenth time leaving a trail of canned and dried goods from the kitchen to the living room.  I know it is him exploring and learning, which is why we let it happen, but after episode number 13 on any given day, I’d like to put a lock on the lazy susan.  But let’s be realistic, that would be met with a tantrum of tantrums and would only be a battle won, not the war.  I pick and choose my parenting battles carefully.  The word NO is important.  It’s overuse will make it meaningless.  I can’t have that.  No, the war is with myself, not my child.  It is about me finding peace and grace in the maddening mundane chaos.  I have gone white water rafting in number 5 conditions.  I have hiked mountains.  I have performed for audiences of thousands.  This, my friend, is much harder.

Until next time, keep fighting the good fight, and remember, behind every great kid (who is, indeed, NOT an asshole) is a mom who is pretty sure she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading. Xo


Raising A Son To Revere Strong Women


This week I am barraged with stories in the news that make me reflect on how we as a society view women.  And I am taken aback.  I am perplexed.  Saddened.  Annoyed.  Worried.  You would have to live in a hole not to be aware of the Stanford freshman who was convicted of raping an unconscious woman behind a dumpster and was sentenced to only 6 months in jail followed by probation.  The crime and details of the trial were abhorrent.  Then his father wrote a letter of support to the court that was completely dismissive of his son’s behavior.  He actually says that a prison sentence is “A steep price to pay for 20 minutes of action.”  He is clearly oblivious.  It isn’t overly shocking that his son chose the abusive path he did.  I think, what are we teaching our children about respect? Equality? And where are we going wrong?

I look at the headlines regarding our presumptive democratic nominee for President, Hillary Clinton.  It’s not just a lack of respect, but actual hate that swarms around her, taking shots at her every turn.  The woman has a coat of armor thicker than any man I’ve ever seen.  If she was a man, it is a coat of armor that would be admired and revered.  But she’s a woman. So she’s a she-devil, not to be trusted, a bitch.  It’s the double standard magnified a hundred times. And both men AND women buy into it.  I ask you, What are we teaching our kids?  Are women not allowed to be strong? As a woman, don’t you want to be smart, strong, and an equal? And, if you are a man, don’t you want a partner who is strong, capable, and your equal? And if you don’t, why not? There is something wrong with the message we are accepting in our society about women and their worth. And I’m taking a stab in the dark here, but it seems to me, the message is perpetuated by those threatened by strong women.

Is it possible that many in our society,  men and women alike, are more comfortable with the traditional roles that men and women take on? The woman standing beside her man, supporting him from the sidelines.  It’s a non threatening picture, isn’t it?  Maybe the dominant female figure is just too uncomfortable for folks.  So when a woman puts on a pantsuit, speaks her mind and decides to run for president, it messes up our feng shui.  Or when a woman gets sexually assaulted on a college campus (while unconscious) there is sympathy for the rapist, because “his life will never be the one that he dreamed about and worked so hard to achieve.”  In what world is that thought process ok? What about the victim? To be clear, I am talking about the woman.  What about the impact this horrific act has had on her life? There are still people who believe, however quietly, that women who have been raped, have somehow “asked” for it.  During the trial the poor girl was asked what she wore to the party that night.  The fact that the question was even posed is proof we are a long long way from gender equality.  It disgusts me.

So as a mother of a boy, what can I do to instill a sense of decency, respect and understanding in my child? How do we teach him to treat women as equals, yet educate him on the nuances of females? I’m talking about those minute, and sometimes huge, differences that, at times,  make us women seem like another species all together.   Equals, but opposites.  It seems pretty straight forward in theory.  Certainly no mother intends on raising a rapist.  So where does it go wrong?

Even at O’s young age of two, people have said in his presence, “Boys will be boys!”  That sentiment will surely grow and follow him.  It is up to us to define that for him and keep him in balance.  I see the way little boys play on the playground and how they are encouraged to be aggressive and tough.  It’s just sort of accepted.  I don’t love it.  There is a sense of entitlement drilled into children in our country these days.  There seems to be a lack of the word “NO” in many children’s everyday life.  Maybe this is where it begins.  I want it, so I should have it.  I want it, so I’ll take it.  It happens on the playground and I see, many times, it go undetected or completely dismissed.  Boys will be boys.

I don’t know what lies ahead in our country. I shudder to think of the possibilities. But this lack of acceptance and complete disregard for other people is just not ok with me. It shouldn’t be ok with anyone. What can we do? As parents we can invoke the change we want to see in our society…with our own child.  Sometimes parenting requires the word “No.”  We need to love our children enough to say “No, that’s not yours.” Or “No. You can’t do that.” My two year old already knows the phrase “That is unacceptable behavior.”  I fear many adults have forgotten it.

Mostly, we need to love our son and teach him the dignity of the body, and how to live through disappointment and confusion.  We need to teach our son how to navigate confusing feelings, and how to separate feelings from action.  We need to teach him how to communicate and listen. We need to define for him what it is to be a man, because we clearly can’t leave that to the media or public figures.  We need to impress upon him that his worth doesn’t come from what he has and takes. O’s biggest influence will be watching how his father treats his mother.  And how his mother can be a strong woman who is respected and loved by her husband for her strength and capability.  How female strength is not something to be threatened by, or something to be squelched, but rather something to seek in a life partner.

I have a feeling in the coming months leading up to the national election, the attack on the strong female figure will be unlike anything we have ever seen.  The language, I’m sure, will be base, crass and dismissive.  I highly doubt the buffoon with the bad comb over will choose a different fighting style.  I can only imagine what the fallout will be.  If you think that kind of sexism on a national platform has no bearing on the way men view women or how women view themselves, you are kidding yourself.  Somewhere in the ignorant mind of some entitled teenager, the words spewed by an entitled demagogue, will validate his delusions.  If you think it’s just about Hillary, it’s not.  It’s about all of us.

I don’t know about you, but I think I’ll be holding my breath till November.  Until next time, keep fighting the good fight and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is certain she is screwing it up.  Thanks for reading. Xo



Raising a Good Kind Decent Person


I am sitting for a moment.  Resting.  Catching my breath.  I’ve been working all morning, packing, sorting, labeling boxes….all while trying to keep O’s routine afloat.  At least let me feed him on time.  And get him down for a nap…Yes! A nap! There is a sea of boxes in my kitchen.  Some packed and some waiting to be filled.  There are towers of suitcases in my living room.  Multiple rolls of tape and bubble wrap….somewhere.  We move in two days, but I just have to rest for a second.  Catch my breath and write a little because there has been something gnawing at me.  Through all the happy disarray that is our life right now, there is an underlying sadness sitting on my heart.  I’m sure you have heard about it.  I’m talking about the terrorist attack on a church and it’s members in South Carolina.   I can’t shake it.  I can’t just gloss over it and move on.  I believe there are so many of us who are feeling this way.  I’m not confused or baffled.  I can’t say, “How could this happen?”  I know exactly how it happened.

I’m upset and I’m mad.  I am ashamed of our laws.  I am ashamed of the racism that runs through our country’s veins, infecting generation after generation.  I’m ashamed that our biggest priority, as a country, has been to defend ourselves from terrorism, but just the foreign kind.  I’m mad at our elected officials who want to pretend this wasn’t an act of terrorism.  I’m ashamed of “Merica.”  I feel small and insignificant.  I feel, as I imagine so many of us do, helpless.

I then look over at my son and see a lifetime of possibilities.  I know that my husband and I have an important job to do.  We have to raise this child to become a good, kind and decent person.  In light of this crazy world we live in, it is clear to me, this is no easy task.  I can’t imagine anyone having the intention to raise their child to be a monster.  Of course not.  But what about the idea of parenting with intention? Children don’t just raise themselves…..or is that is what’s happening?  This world is filled with violence, hate, rage and unspeakable demons.  My child will be bombarded with these things time and time again as he grows.  It is our job to explain. To teach. To filter and interpret until he is old enough to do so himself.  If we neglect to guide him, then we will have failed him.  It is our intention to raise a good, kind and decent person.  We can never lose sight of that result.  It is the least we can do for him.  He has given our life profound unexpected meaning.  He has given us a love we didn’t really know existed until we were filled with it.  We owe him everything.

I don’t want to throw stones at any parent.  I don’t want to pass judgment, though it’s a tough one.  The pain the shooter’s parents must feel is unimaginable to me.  Frankly, it scares me to death.  I wouldn’t want to be in those shoes, God Forbid.  I always say, “never say never.” So I won’t say, “that would never be me!”   I will just pray extra hard that it won’t be.  I will try extra hard to have it not be.  And I’ll keep both my eyes on the boy I am raising to be that good, kind and decent person.

There is so much more I want to say.  So many thoughts swirling around my head regarding this quandary our country is in.  I am struggling.    I honestly can’t find the words.  At least the right words.  But one thing I know for sure is that we need to talk about this.  We need to figure this out.  And it isn’t going to happen if we try to forget about it or pretend it didn’t happen. I certainly don’t have the answers for everyone.  I can only do my little part (which is pretty big).  I need to love and raise our son.  I need to actively participate in his upbringing.  It will be the most important thing I can do to end this craziness that has become the norm.

How to Have It All…Just Not All at Once


As women we are no strangers to the idea of “having it all.”  As far back as I can remember, the notion was embedded into my head.  You are taught from a very young age that if you aren’t looking to “have it all,” then you aren’t reaching high enough.  Especially for us Type As.  It is the female goal.  Having it ALL. Great career, loving spouse, and of course, a baby or two ( or in some cases three or more…God Bless Ya!).  Our society bills this as the ideal.  As the way to happiness.  Career Mommy who is fulfilled as a mother and a professional.  Well …I say it’s all bananas.

The truth, at least the way I see it, is that you most certainly can have it all…just not all at the same time.  You can totally be a stay-at-home mom and focus on raising your children, but then your career suffers.  Or you can choose to focus on your career and have your child cared for by someone other than you.  Either way, something has to give.  Now of course, there are women who HAVE to work and are forced to have their children in daycare…but that isn’t an argument for “having it all.” Ask them if they are truly happy with the situation.  ?? That’s called “making it work” as sooo many women do these days.  But it’s not “having it all.”

“Having it ALL”  includes being happy.  As Mark Manson writes in his article The Hidden Cost of Happiness,  “everything has a cost, even if that cost is not immediately apparent. To achieve anything you must give up something else.”  In our happiness obsessed culture, we seem to strive for the opposite. But as he says, “Ironically, it’s the unwillingness to sacrifice anything, to give up anything, that makes us more miserable.”  I agree.  (I highly suggest reading his piece. Or all his stuff.  He is kind of a self help guru for people who can’t stand self help.

So I have to personalize the theory.  If I try to keep my career going, then I have to give up not just time with my son, but I would have to give up possibly, seeing his first steps, hearing his first words, among other milestones.  For me to work, means time away.  Sure I could bring him with me, but someone else would have to care for him during rehearsals and performance times….and then my husband loses out.  He would miss stuff as well.  How could I do that to him?  So the loving husband is penalized for my need to feel relevant in my career.  If I left O with my husband, he would be in daycare every week day.  Again, someone else essentially raising my son.   And I would miss everything.  The mere thought of not seeing him everyday for even a small period of time is unthinkable right now.  Maybe that will change?  I don’t know.  Either way, would keeping my career afloat bring me true happiness? Or just fleeting happiness?  What is really required for true happiness?

Well, I’m glad you asked that.  Mr. Manson says that first off “you must accept imperfection and flaws.” Now this is tough because we then have to accept that we have to live with things we don’t like.  I don’t like 4am feedings.  I don’t like getting spit up on.  And I don’t like the inconsolable crying.  But…I accept it as where we are right now in this journey of raising our child.  Hell, Ladies, there are about a hundred other things I don’t like about this job, but there are a hundred and four that I now can’t live without.

Most importantly, Mr. Manson talks about finding a deeper purpose to your actions.  This has to do with growth and contribution.  Now THIS speaks to me as a mother.  What could be more motivating than raising a child to become a decent, kind, thinking human being??   That is a true contribution to society.   Hell, you could be raising the child who grows up to change life, as the world knows it, for the better!  And as far as growth, well, that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger…there’s your growth!  But truly, I somehow understand through all my foibles with this task, that my love for O makes me a better person.  It’s not about me.  Mothering is a selfless act.  And when you do for another, with no thought of gain for yourself, it makes you happy.  It’s just the way it works.


A pic from the last show I did before O.

So the question is…could I find that profound happiness whilst belting out a tune or tapping my troubles away??  Happy, yes.  But profound happiness?…the stuff of angels?  No, I don’t think so. Don’t get me wrong.  It’s not so easy.  Not so black and white.  There are days when I long for the smell of the greasepaint and the roar of the crowd.  Days where I wish I could audition, book a show..and PLAY!! But….then the reality for this Mommy sets in.   I know there are friends of mine and readers, perhaps, who are thinking that I am giving up.  They are right.  I guess, I feel I must to get something else, i.e. the “motherhood experience.”   You see,  I have enjoyed a rather full amazing life so far.  One so completely different from the one I struggle through today.  But there is part of me that knows there is a higher purpose to this time and task,  and it honestly gets me through days when I don’t really want to go to “work.”  (Like it’s an option! lol)  So for now…my career suffers.  Maybe it will never recover…maybe I will recreate myself as an older more grounded actress…?? ( I’m thinking Meryl Streep meets Kristen Wiig) ? Who knows… Who cares? Right now, it doesn’t matter.  Right now, I need to BE this moment.  In this very special role, that was chosen just for me.  And the HAPPINESS,  while mingled with tears and tough days, is rich and abundant, and unlike any I’ve know before.

Until next time, keep on keeping on….and remember, behind every great kid is a mom who is quite certain she’s messing it all up! 🙂 xo