A traveler in a French Polynesia learns that connecting with kids goes beyond knowing how to speak the language.
These kids know me and I know them right back, start to finish.
Rob and I are better parents while adventuring, simply because we are happier, more present, more appreciative of a new place. It's not easier, by any means. But it's worth it.
I'm truly sorry that fate frowned on you, and positioned your seat directly in front of me and my squirmy 16-month-old on the long cross-country flight yesterday.
A poem by Brianna Randall.
Motherhood means dwelling within these transitions.
All good stories start with water. With a flow, a rush, a release. So did you.
I want to tell you about the calm in the center of a storm. About a timeless place of softly swirling nothing. About drifting weightless across eons that span mere moments. About a galaxy inside of each of us that is filled with peace and trust and so much depth.
By Brianna Randall. Someone else is sharing my inner space: my breath, my blood, my body.
By Brianna Randall. I attribute my breezy early pregnancy to the fact that I was on a sailboat, anchored amidst lazy tropical islands with nothing I had to do and nowhere I had to go.
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