Why parents can’t rest — ever.
I unrolled our new self-inflating camping pad and laid it out on the living room floor for my daughter to try. The bright lime green against our light pastel rug made it an inviting bed. She blew up the attached pillow and cozied up, a lazy haze settling over her deep blue eyes.
“I’m excited to go camping this weekend, mom!”
I chuckled to myself. Just moments before she’d complained to me about camping. Will our tent be big enough (it’s new and we haven’t put it up yet)? Will it rain? Will our neighbors be loud? Will there be fun things to do? Her sharp, inquisitive mind was considering every angle.
Soul Writer. Single Mama. Life ponderer. Nature Lover. Therapist. Introvert. HSP & Empath. Life is my playground and each day a blank canvas.