I was getting ready this morning.........taking the five minutes to brush back my still wet hair, swipe some mascara on my lashes, a swipe of color on my lips and I laughed. I laughed, thinking back to the hours spent getting ready for school each morning, twenty long years ago.
Twenty years ago.
Have I been alive that long?
Thirty-five sounds so young but when you can say, with crystal clear memory, twenty years ago this happened.........well, it seems not so young.
But, twenty years ago............
I use to sit in front of my mirror meticulously curling each strand of hair in my huge permed bob.
I use to sit and catalogue the faults on my face, hoping to cover whatever blemish was found.
I use to stand in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, looking to see where there were any bulges or bumps or unflattering angles. Should I change? Does this look ok? Would people notice me? What would be worse - noticing me or not? Probably noticing.........
I use to spend hours on my appearance.
(((SIGH)))
What I would tell that girl now is that being comfortable with who you are is so much more beautiful than any clothes you could put on.
I would tell her that all those hours spent on self would have been better spent on others because back then every else wasn't thinking about her, rather they, too, were thinking about themselves - their own fears and anxieties and futures and the achingly, seemingly important present.
I would tell her that years from now the boy she had a crush on for so much of her childhood, that constant boy-a-few-streets-over.......well, he would grow up to be just as kind as he always was and one day you would walk into his parents house and there he would be a husband, a father wearing white socks with sandals, drinking a beer, watching sports with his dad and you would giggle inside remembering the days of swooning over this now grown man.
I would tell her that the girls that seemed to have it all together and always appear flawlessly made up and perfectly dressed at school - oh, those girls - they would be the same girls that you would see at the park, at the store, at your child's school and you would share a glance with those now grown girls. The glance had in it a nod to the past with an eye to the future. Those girls that once seemed so different, so knowledgeable about the ways of women......well, now they are wives and moms and the knowledge is the same and the heart is the same. We have walked the same path and have all emerged beautiful and better for the experiences that life has given us.
I would tell that girl of long ago that beauty, true beauty, comes from within - it's a light, a joy, a sense of self that is unshakable in the face of a blemish, an uncurled hair, a curve that you want flattened. Beauty comes from loving others rather than loving yourself. Beauty comes from contentment. Beauty comes from knowing yourself well enough to know what works, what fits, what you love - even if it's not what is shown in magazines, in catalogues, on the right people. Beauty comes from God and beauty is found in knowing Him, feeling His love and joy at who He created, feeling His delight in you.
And so as you look in the mirror today..........marvel at who you are. Marvel at the person you have become, marvel at the path you have traveled, marvel at who God has made you.
Waste not one moment more wishing for something other than what you have, who you are. For you are a gift. You are amazing. You have so much. You are so much. Take the time today to see that and then encourage others in who they are, in what you see in them.
Because today, today is a gift.
Treasure it.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Expectations
My better half has been gone two days now. He's at sixth grade camp.
I know, right?
I shudder.
I thank him nearly every day for being the one that leaves the house for work.
But he's having a good time.
I told him today on the phone that he should go every year.
He thinks he will.
I am hoping his good deeds count for me, too.
So it's been two days.
And while he's gone, I notice things.
I notice the house is cleaner.
The night ends earlier.
I cook less but bake more.
I read an entire novel.
The laundry is all done.
It's calmer.
And it's only for two days, I know if it were for much longer that might not be as true but it's noticeable in the short term.
And while he's gone, I notice other things.
I put off going to bed longer because it's just me, no one to snuggle up against.
Dinner is over more quickly, there isn't as much lingering around the table.
There aren't dance parties or songs good night, at least not the right ones.
The house is quiet.
The mornings are more lonely then they are peaceful.
And as I notice these things, I think about my expectations and where they were and where they are now.
When I first got married (and if I am honest, I can still slip into this thinking) I had in my mind certain expectations of who does what and kept a list and kept track and wanted things to have a certain equality to them.
And now I realize that my husband is more than a set of tasks, more than just a garbage man, child keeper, toilet scrubber or cleaning assistant. Because when he is gone? Those aren't the things I miss the most. They're nice but they aren't what I love, what I miss when he is gone.
I miss the man not the list of tasks he completes. I can do those. I can water the seedlings, mow the lawn, administer medicine, call Steve when a snake appears in the backyard (well, I actually screamed at the top of my lungs - STEVE! STEVE! STEVE!), all that stuff. But I can't replicate who Joe is. I can't be daddy or husband. Joe's songs are more sincere, more familiar. Joe's play is more intense and rough and crazy. Joe's arms are strong and warm and sure. Joe is more generous and forgiving. Joe's eyes are a reflection of how he sees me and what he sees is always so much more amazing than what I see. It can be scary to think of who I might be without Joe.
Because as time goes on my expectations........well, my expectations they are changing.
My expectations towards tasks..........they get lower in a lot of ways. They don't seem to be the mountains I once made them (oh those piles on the floor.......HA! How that use to upset me.....now? Well, I take the two seconds to move them into the laundry basket.......why, oh, why Mandy of 8 years ago did you put so much energy into that? :).
But my expectations towards love?
They get higher.
It gets better.
It's weird to think that and maybe it won't be as true 10 years from now because we are still just babies at this marriage thing.
But this love thing?
Those honeymooners nearly nine years ago?
They had no idea.
Can't wait for tomorrow :)
I know, right?
I shudder.
I thank him nearly every day for being the one that leaves the house for work.
But he's having a good time.
I told him today on the phone that he should go every year.
He thinks he will.
I am hoping his good deeds count for me, too.
So it's been two days.
And while he's gone, I notice things.
I notice the house is cleaner.
The night ends earlier.
I cook less but bake more.
I read an entire novel.
The laundry is all done.
It's calmer.
And it's only for two days, I know if it were for much longer that might not be as true but it's noticeable in the short term.
And while he's gone, I notice other things.
I put off going to bed longer because it's just me, no one to snuggle up against.
Dinner is over more quickly, there isn't as much lingering around the table.
There aren't dance parties or songs good night, at least not the right ones.
The house is quiet.
The mornings are more lonely then they are peaceful.
And as I notice these things, I think about my expectations and where they were and where they are now.
When I first got married (and if I am honest, I can still slip into this thinking) I had in my mind certain expectations of who does what and kept a list and kept track and wanted things to have a certain equality to them.
And now I realize that my husband is more than a set of tasks, more than just a garbage man, child keeper, toilet scrubber or cleaning assistant. Because when he is gone? Those aren't the things I miss the most. They're nice but they aren't what I love, what I miss when he is gone.
I miss the man not the list of tasks he completes. I can do those. I can water the seedlings, mow the lawn, administer medicine, call Steve when a snake appears in the backyard (well, I actually screamed at the top of my lungs - STEVE! STEVE! STEVE!), all that stuff. But I can't replicate who Joe is. I can't be daddy or husband. Joe's songs are more sincere, more familiar. Joe's play is more intense and rough and crazy. Joe's arms are strong and warm and sure. Joe is more generous and forgiving. Joe's eyes are a reflection of how he sees me and what he sees is always so much more amazing than what I see. It can be scary to think of who I might be without Joe.
Because as time goes on my expectations........well, my expectations they are changing.
My expectations towards tasks..........they get lower in a lot of ways. They don't seem to be the mountains I once made them (oh those piles on the floor.......HA! How that use to upset me.....now? Well, I take the two seconds to move them into the laundry basket.......why, oh, why Mandy of 8 years ago did you put so much energy into that? :).
But my expectations towards love?
They get higher.
It gets better.
It's weird to think that and maybe it won't be as true 10 years from now because we are still just babies at this marriage thing.
But this love thing?
Those honeymooners nearly nine years ago?
They had no idea.
Can't wait for tomorrow :)
Monday, May 6, 2013
A Woman of Valor
This is a term tossed about these days - Woman of Valor - a term describing, proclaiming the wonders of women. It is a cry of triumph, it is a blessing, it is a moment of boldness, it is a term of praise.
It is a rallying cry for women everywhere to encourage one another in their lives - whether their lives consist of serving the poor, serving their family, serving meals to strangers, serving their country - everywhere, serving God in the place where they have found themselves.
And tonight I shine the light on a woman of valor in my life.
She is one who shuns the spotlight.
She is one who would be the first to put her head down, to look away, to block the spotlight from shining on her.
But she is not here, sitting at my computer desk and so I have complete freedom to bring her into the light.
Her name is Rachel Lipford.
She is a wife.
She is a mother.
She is a leader.
She is a cookie baker.
She is a writer.
She is an encourager.
She is an avid consumer of candy.
She is beautiful.
She is humble.
She is teachable.
She is gentle.
She is a protector.
She is my friend.
She is my teacher.
She is a woman of valor.
But, above all, she is a woman of God.
And it is this that makes her life truly amazing because when you know her, when you walk beside her you know that her life is one that comes from God. It is a life guided by God, it is a life committed to God. It is with her life that she speaks volumes about who God is and causes others to look to Him.
Rachel Lipford
Woman of Valor
Woman of God
Who is a woman of valor in YOUR life?
Tell her today.
It is a rallying cry for women everywhere to encourage one another in their lives - whether their lives consist of serving the poor, serving their family, serving meals to strangers, serving their country - everywhere, serving God in the place where they have found themselves.
And tonight I shine the light on a woman of valor in my life.
She is one who shuns the spotlight.
She is one who would be the first to put her head down, to look away, to block the spotlight from shining on her.
But she is not here, sitting at my computer desk and so I have complete freedom to bring her into the light.
Her name is Rachel Lipford.
She is a wife.
She is a mother.
She is a leader.
She is a cookie baker.
She is a writer.
She is an encourager.
She is an avid consumer of candy.
She is beautiful.
She is humble.
She is teachable.
She is gentle.
She is a protector.
She is my friend.
She is my teacher.
She is a woman of valor.
But, above all, she is a woman of God.
And it is this that makes her life truly amazing because when you know her, when you walk beside her you know that her life is one that comes from God. It is a life guided by God, it is a life committed to God. It is with her life that she speaks volumes about who God is and causes others to look to Him.
Rachel Lipford
Woman of Valor
Woman of God
Who is a woman of valor in YOUR life?
Tell her today.
Friday, April 19, 2013
The YOU of my Life
Why do we make the hard things harder?
I am sure that we can come up with a million reasons and that they would be the same yet different for all of us.
It's weakness.
It's shame.
It's a history of hurt.
It's feelings of inadequacy.
It's embarrassment.
It's fear of failure.
It's that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that says you are no good, you are lazy, you are ridiculous, you are just plain dumb for feeling this way.
It's everything and nothing all at the same time.
And so today when I was feeling overcome........yet again........(((SIGH)))......by life and all the whos and whats of my life........I came to you...........
I had the beginnings of a headache, I was starting to feel nauseous, I was tired, I was irritable, I was pretty much being a horrible person and feeling every inch of that horribleness.
Until..............
YOU.
Until someone shared the post.
Until someone came with a Diet Vanilla Sonic.
Until someone else came and said I am here, what can I do?
Until someone texted that I was to breathe and that tonight was for adults so hold on.
Until someone hit like and then someone else did and then someone else, showing that no I wasn't the only one.
Until my husband was home and I was done and it was time to rest and get pretty for the night.
Until................
YOU.
Thank you for being YOU.
My life without YOU is what is hard, is what makes the hard things harder. With YOU there is no failure, there is no embarrassment, there is no weakness or shame or hurt or wondering. For with YOU there is a resting place. Thank YOU.........you always know who YOU are.
And so now the world is an easier place, and easier space...........the headache is gone, the nausea not there, the children and mama happy.........there has been an easing of tension, a feeling of solidarity in this world of parenting.
If you find yourself in need of a YOU.........you know where I am..........
I am sure that we can come up with a million reasons and that they would be the same yet different for all of us.
It's weakness.
It's shame.
It's a history of hurt.
It's feelings of inadequacy.
It's embarrassment.
It's fear of failure.
It's that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that says you are no good, you are lazy, you are ridiculous, you are just plain dumb for feeling this way.
It's everything and nothing all at the same time.
And so today when I was feeling overcome........yet again........(((SIGH)))......by life and all the whos and whats of my life........I came to you...........
I had the beginnings of a headache, I was starting to feel nauseous, I was tired, I was irritable, I was pretty much being a horrible person and feeling every inch of that horribleness.
Until..............
YOU.
Until someone shared the post.
Until someone came with a Diet Vanilla Sonic.
Until someone else came and said I am here, what can I do?
Until someone texted that I was to breathe and that tonight was for adults so hold on.
Until someone hit like and then someone else did and then someone else, showing that no I wasn't the only one.
Until my husband was home and I was done and it was time to rest and get pretty for the night.
Until................
YOU.
Thank you for being YOU.
My life without YOU is what is hard, is what makes the hard things harder. With YOU there is no failure, there is no embarrassment, there is no weakness or shame or hurt or wondering. For with YOU there is a resting place. Thank YOU.........you always know who YOU are.
And so now the world is an easier place, and easier space...........the headache is gone, the nausea not there, the children and mama happy.........there has been an easing of tension, a feeling of solidarity in this world of parenting.
If you find yourself in need of a YOU.........you know where I am..........
I Know
Why is it always so surprising? Why do these days sneak up on you and catch you unawares after seven short years filled with long days of motherhood?
Every two or three months I come to sit down, facing the computer screen, reaching out to you - the weary warriors of parenting. For I know. I do. And I feel the need to remind us all that we all have days when the tears come easily, when you call a friend at 9:00 in the morning and say I am already tired of the day, when you shut yourself in your bedroom with children yelling, calling out your name and you think......I warned you, I have my limits too, my dear ones. And so I come to you once again and tell you that I know.
I know what it's like to walk against the weight of a mighty, mighty child who's only wish for the day is to do the exact opposite of everything you are asking her to do that day.
I know what it's like to hear the whines and screams and demands of what surely must be the most spoiled, privileged child in the world - DO THEY NOT KNOW HOW OTHER CHILDREN LIVE (well, of course not, because really do I WANT them to know the devastations of this world at the tender age of 5.......a bit of it but not all)!?!
I know what it's like to have a child who is done, who is sensitive and hurt easily and has moments of crying easily and those moments can last the rest of the day due to weariness, due to this world just being too much and too filled, due to everything feeling like it's spiraling out of control.
So I know.
And I know that I, too, am that child. I know the list that I have for today and everything in me is crying out NO, NO, NO. Even the simplest things I just don't want to do. I have activities to plan for Sunday, e-mails to send, laundry that needs to be folded, closets to organize, food to be cooked and I just don't want to, no good reason, really.
I know that I am SO spoiled and privileged. I have a home. I have a wonderful husband. I have three healthy children. If that was ALL I had then I would be SO BLESSED. But I have MORE. I have an abundance of family in the area. We have no debt but our house. We have amazing friends. We have a church body that embraces and loves us. We have freedom in every important way. We have SO MUCH. DO I NOT KNOW HOW LUCKY I AM?
And I know, oh my, what it feels like my own tiny world is spiraling out of control, when my feelings won't stay in the places I want them to - when my happy, calming thoughts quickly slide out of range and my overwrought ones replace them quickly and without warning. I know what it feels like to have the very presence of people seem to be too much and I don't know why, all I know is that I must have a few minutes to breathe.
Oh, my dears, I know. And when I say, my dears - I mean you and I mean my children. We expect so much from our little ones, at times. We expect them to be better than we are - to show the world what good parents we are, what good children they are.........all the while behind closed doors we are all just human, relying on the grace that God extends to us as His children, desperately hoping that others have known the same grace so that they may extend it to us at those times when our private persona leaks out into the public eye.
And so this is my space, the place where I pull back the curtain, the place where our private selves become a bit more public so that you can know, too. You can know that grace is for everyone. That grace comes from a perfect place but is not reserved for only the perfect, rather it is given freely to ALL who come and say I know. I know the hard days. I know the good days. I know that I need more than I have, more than I can do, more than I can muster myself.
I love you all.
Please call or write or come over if you know, too.
Thank you for being on the other side of this screen, on the receiving end of my words. It helps. I love hearing your stories, your hearts.
So on this dreary, weary Friday................what is it that YOU know?
Every two or three months I come to sit down, facing the computer screen, reaching out to you - the weary warriors of parenting. For I know. I do. And I feel the need to remind us all that we all have days when the tears come easily, when you call a friend at 9:00 in the morning and say I am already tired of the day, when you shut yourself in your bedroom with children yelling, calling out your name and you think......I warned you, I have my limits too, my dear ones. And so I come to you once again and tell you that I know.
I know what it's like to walk against the weight of a mighty, mighty child who's only wish for the day is to do the exact opposite of everything you are asking her to do that day.
I know what it's like to hear the whines and screams and demands of what surely must be the most spoiled, privileged child in the world - DO THEY NOT KNOW HOW OTHER CHILDREN LIVE (well, of course not, because really do I WANT them to know the devastations of this world at the tender age of 5.......a bit of it but not all)!?!
I know what it's like to have a child who is done, who is sensitive and hurt easily and has moments of crying easily and those moments can last the rest of the day due to weariness, due to this world just being too much and too filled, due to everything feeling like it's spiraling out of control.
So I know.
And I know that I, too, am that child. I know the list that I have for today and everything in me is crying out NO, NO, NO. Even the simplest things I just don't want to do. I have activities to plan for Sunday, e-mails to send, laundry that needs to be folded, closets to organize, food to be cooked and I just don't want to, no good reason, really.
I know that I am SO spoiled and privileged. I have a home. I have a wonderful husband. I have three healthy children. If that was ALL I had then I would be SO BLESSED. But I have MORE. I have an abundance of family in the area. We have no debt but our house. We have amazing friends. We have a church body that embraces and loves us. We have freedom in every important way. We have SO MUCH. DO I NOT KNOW HOW LUCKY I AM?
And I know, oh my, what it feels like my own tiny world is spiraling out of control, when my feelings won't stay in the places I want them to - when my happy, calming thoughts quickly slide out of range and my overwrought ones replace them quickly and without warning. I know what it feels like to have the very presence of people seem to be too much and I don't know why, all I know is that I must have a few minutes to breathe.
Oh, my dears, I know. And when I say, my dears - I mean you and I mean my children. We expect so much from our little ones, at times. We expect them to be better than we are - to show the world what good parents we are, what good children they are.........all the while behind closed doors we are all just human, relying on the grace that God extends to us as His children, desperately hoping that others have known the same grace so that they may extend it to us at those times when our private persona leaks out into the public eye.
And so this is my space, the place where I pull back the curtain, the place where our private selves become a bit more public so that you can know, too. You can know that grace is for everyone. That grace comes from a perfect place but is not reserved for only the perfect, rather it is given freely to ALL who come and say I know. I know the hard days. I know the good days. I know that I need more than I have, more than I can do, more than I can muster myself.
I love you all.
Please call or write or come over if you know, too.
Thank you for being on the other side of this screen, on the receiving end of my words. It helps. I love hearing your stories, your hearts.
So on this dreary, weary Friday................what is it that YOU know?
Monday, April 15, 2013
Another Year, Another Season
And so it begins......once again........the planting season is here.
And so in this year, in this season........I am reminded. I am reminded to look to the Father. I am reminded to be patient when awaiting the first signs of life, the first glance of a sprout popping out of the ground. I am reminded there is much work to be done. I am reminded of the joy in working together. I am reminded of the beauty of getting your hands dirty and bowing low.
What does this season mean to you?
The weather is getting warmer, the ground more pliant..............
There are workers that are reluctant, some are eager but all are stronger and older than they were the last year, the last season....
And so they learn..........by watching, by doing, by imitating the one they love, the one they respect, the one who patiently teaches them how............
They shovel and dig.......................
They plant the seeds that will turn into food...................
They learn the skills that were taught long before they were conceived, even thought of..........
It is a new generation of planters and sowers and growers, workers harvesting the fields found in their own backyard........
And as it happens every year, I am reminded...........
I am reminded we are all workers - sometimes reluctant, sometimes eager - looking to the Father. Watching to see how it's done, what to do, how to go about the planting and sowing and harvesting of the Kingdom - we are all children.
And so in this year, in this season........I am reminded. I am reminded to look to the Father. I am reminded to be patient when awaiting the first signs of life, the first glance of a sprout popping out of the ground. I am reminded there is much work to be done. I am reminded of the joy in working together. I am reminded of the beauty of getting your hands dirty and bowing low.
What does this season mean to you?
Friday, April 12, 2013
Letting Go
There is a moment in every day where I get a bit choked up, I feel amazement and wonder and awe. And I know that sometimes my thoughts and who I am is a bit much, a bit tedious because of all thoughts that fill my head in the most ordinary of moments. But so often I find it to be such a gift to witness beauty in the ordinary things of life, the many moments that pass through our days.
And so every day at the school drop off there is a moment where a lump forms in my throat because I am a witness to the extraordinary act of letting go.
And I think...........look at these brave parents. I see those who are on their way to work, dressed in the clothes of the working world - sprayed, polished and pressed. Sometimes they are rushing in, rushing up - hurrying to get their little ones in the door so they may go in their own door, many miles away.
I see moms still in sweats, occasionally even pajamas, hair piled on top of their heads or behind. There is little polish or shine to these women as they pull up but we've all been there and I am the last to judge on this front. Many times the siblings are talking or crying or laughing or sleeping in the minivans as these moms rush in and up.
I see dads give hugs and high fives, looking long after the child has started to walk off. Anyone who thinks dads are more apt to let go easily has not been witness to a morning drop-off. They are not immune to the sight of big backpacks overtaking young children as they skip or trudge off to start their day.
I see so much love. I see hope. I see fear. I see anger and frustration. I see laughter. I see trust. I see gentle touches and lingering good-byes.
And I think.......how hard this is - this every day letting go.
Every day is a day gone by, a day of growing up, growing out, growing away.
I always wait and look.
My eyes following the backpack cradled on the back of the one I love.
My gaze lingers as I watch her walk up the school sidewalk and into the doors.
I try never to leave the school parking lot without taking one last look.
I am so proud of her.
I see how brave she is.
I see how beautiful she is.
I see how she will change her world because of her kindness, her gentle ways.
I see how much she is not mine.
She is not mine to cradle and keep.
She is not mine to protect from every little hurt.
She is not mine to cling to.
She is not mine.
She belongs to Him.
And I know that I am her home and her safe place and her place of love and her place of trust but she is not mine to keep forever.
And so every day there is a moment.........the moment where I acknowledge the letting go, the moment where I acknowledge that she is not mine, the daily evidence of her growing up, growing out and growing away.
And so every day at the school drop off there is that moment where a lump forms in my throat because I am witnessing the extraordinary act of all those parents letting go and the extraordinary children that are learning to walk on their own in this world.
How blessed I am to be a witness to something so extraordinary every single day of the week.
How I love to watch those brave parents and those brave children in the act of letting go.
And so every day at the school drop off there is a moment where a lump forms in my throat because I am a witness to the extraordinary act of letting go.
And I think...........look at these brave parents. I see those who are on their way to work, dressed in the clothes of the working world - sprayed, polished and pressed. Sometimes they are rushing in, rushing up - hurrying to get their little ones in the door so they may go in their own door, many miles away.
I see moms still in sweats, occasionally even pajamas, hair piled on top of their heads or behind. There is little polish or shine to these women as they pull up but we've all been there and I am the last to judge on this front. Many times the siblings are talking or crying or laughing or sleeping in the minivans as these moms rush in and up.
I see dads give hugs and high fives, looking long after the child has started to walk off. Anyone who thinks dads are more apt to let go easily has not been witness to a morning drop-off. They are not immune to the sight of big backpacks overtaking young children as they skip or trudge off to start their day.
I see so much love. I see hope. I see fear. I see anger and frustration. I see laughter. I see trust. I see gentle touches and lingering good-byes.
And I think.......how hard this is - this every day letting go.
Every day is a day gone by, a day of growing up, growing out, growing away.
I always wait and look.
My eyes following the backpack cradled on the back of the one I love.
My gaze lingers as I watch her walk up the school sidewalk and into the doors.
I try never to leave the school parking lot without taking one last look.
I am so proud of her.
I see how brave she is.
I see how beautiful she is.
I see how she will change her world because of her kindness, her gentle ways.
I see how much she is not mine.
She is not mine to cradle and keep.
She is not mine to protect from every little hurt.
She is not mine to cling to.
She is not mine.
She belongs to Him.
And I know that I am her home and her safe place and her place of love and her place of trust but she is not mine to keep forever.
And so every day there is a moment.........the moment where I acknowledge the letting go, the moment where I acknowledge that she is not mine, the daily evidence of her growing up, growing out and growing away.
And so every day at the school drop off there is that moment where a lump forms in my throat because I am witnessing the extraordinary act of all those parents letting go and the extraordinary children that are learning to walk on their own in this world.
How blessed I am to be a witness to something so extraordinary every single day of the week.
How I love to watch those brave parents and those brave children in the act of letting go.
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