Wildling Magazine - Volume 7 by Wildling Magazine

VOLUME 7

ÂŠ 2016 Wildling Magazine All rights reserved. No part of this magazine may be reproduced by any means without prior written consent from the publisher, except for brief portions quoted for the purpose of review, as permitted by copyright law. www.wildlingmagazine.com info@wildlingmagazine.com Instagram @wildlingmagazine Facebook facebook.com/wildlingmagazine Front Cover image by Caitlyn Joyce Back Cover image by Colleen Donaldson Inside Cover image by Julie Guertin Back Inside Cover image by Melina Wallisch

CONTENTS VOLUME 7 December 2016

Contributors

Editorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Note

71 Trunkaroo

The Power Of Words

Motherhood In Silence

13 India

Baking Cookies

What Marlowe Eats

84 Peru

The Passing Of Time

Theo Carter-Weber

Life Exposed

Time For Bed

Twenty Days

103

Searching & Finding

Scamp & Dude

107 Stockists

South Wales

Modern Family

CONTRIBUTORS Caitlyn Joyce www.caitlynjoyce.com Vicki Wood

www.unclebearskinproductions.com.au

Colleen Donaldson www.colleendonaldson.com Andrea Ducas www.ohdeardrea.blogspot.co.uk Candice Jones Peelman www.starfirecouncil.org Julie Guertin

www.julieguertin.com.au

Abi Quisenberry www.abiqphotography.com Rebecca Lindon www.rebeccalindon.com Jasmyn Smith www.jasmynmarie.com Sam Geddes www.samanthageddes.com Leanne Vice www.leannevicephotography.com Melina Wallisch www.melinawallisch.com Dana Sirois www.petitmioche.com

Image by Rebecca Lindon

EDITOR’S NOTE

Volume 7 is centred very much around parenting from the perspective of motherhood - how our innermost feelings affect our role as a mother. Abi Q talks about her fears and actions since Trump became President, whilst Candice Jones Peelman mourns the passing of time and Dana Sirois admits that her decision to raise her daughter out in the wild has left her detatched from the allimportant support network. The role of the mother is to be a guiding light during childhood and that light can only shine brightly if we’re clear on what we believe is right and what we desire for our children. Winter is the perfect time to retreat and go inside, sort through our emotions and remind ourselves of what we’re trying to achieve as a parent. What’s important to us and what is not. Make lists and intentions and then watch those manifest and bloom like flowers as Spring arrives.

Rebecca Lindon Editor-in-Chief

THE POWER OF WORDS PERSONAL ESSAY words by Vicki Wood and images by Sam Elsom

I can’t actually remember a time when I didn’t tell stories. I think I always knew the power of words; how the words you choose to speak can influence your reality and those around you. My baby brother was born when I was 7 years old and my sister was 4. My mother was never really the same after he was born, or so I was told - for some reason I cannot remember very much before then. She didn’t leave her bedroom for many years so I took it upon my self to sit beside her bed and try and find the words that could make her smile again… because if she could just smile then everything would be alright and we could all be happy. The earliest story that I told was that this isn’t our real life… Our real life is in a magical world where everything is beautiful and you can eat all the lollies and ice-cream you want and everyone is happy all the time. My sister was very sceptical of this story but I imagined the details with such enthusiasm that she simply had to believe. I did seem to know a lot about it, so maybe just maybe it was true. I learned early on that imagination plays a big part in happiness. I think my mother’s unresponsive gaze taught me to recognize the slightest of reactions, good or bad, that my words could create. It became a very useful tool throughout my life, never more so than in motherhood. No two children in one family are the same and finding the words that your child responds to can give you a positive influence over their lives.

As a parent I would tell my children stories about my father and the kindness he showed to the people who needed kindness the most. I told them stories of their grandparents and great-grandparents and how courageous they had been crossing oceans to new worlds. My children weren’t interested in the magical fairylands I had created for myself, they wanted adventure and so my storytelling became a collaboration. We made plans of how we would live in 6 teepees in a circle, one for me and one for each of my brave adventurous children. After much discussion it was decided by all that our camp would be near a cliff that overlooked the ocean. Our reality was far different; I was a single parent raising 5 children with very little money. But I too imagined that if we could find the land, we could make it happen. We never actually did find that cliff or build that camp, but we had so many enjoyable hours imagining the possibilities. It is a dream I still hope to create, but now our camp will include my grandchildren. Some people live their lives based on the reality of their immediate circumstances. I myself have found much happiness in imagining the life I would create regardless of my circumstances. My children are now grown and have imagined and created lives that some can only dream of. My father was in his nineties when he started telling me stories of his grandmother. Tears would escape from somewhere deep in his memory as he would sing the lullabies she had sang to him, rocking ever so gently, as if he were in her arms once more. The memory held tight in his heart all these long years; she had died when he was 3 years old. I have always understood what it is to be a child alone in the dark and I wanted my stories to be able to take away those fears, to imagine that someone is always with you even if no one else can see them but you. So whether it is a little owl who softly hoots ‘go back to sleep,’ or a magical dragon who is there especially for you, or even a Viking Boy whose ancestors are watching out for him… the message is always, you are not alone.

For reasons I cannot explain, I have always loved babies and children. I never wanted for anything more. So when my grandchildren were born my life was reborn. The stories I have created for my grandchildren are totally directed to them and what they love or wish was true. My granddaughter never wanted to go to bed, so I would tell her that when I was a little girl I didn’t like to go to bed either, until of course I met a magical dragon who would take me on wonderful adventures.. but first you have to be asleep. And so Sippy and Sunny was born… a little girl and her magical dragon, not like any other dragon, he is soft and furry, exactly the way my granddaughter wants him to be. When my grandson was just a little over one, he would wake in the night crying. Nothing seemed to help him back to sleep, until an owl whispered a soft little hoot. “What’s that I can hear... is that a little owl singing you a lullaby?” I would say as quietly as I could. He became so obsessed with the little owl, that sometimes, when he was distraught, my son would call and ask me to tell him ‘The Owl Outside My Door’ story to help him back to sleep. Even now, after he has been read the owl story, his Dad will ring so I can sing him the ‘little owl lullaby’ until he falls asleep. So really all my books are gifts to my grandchildren, gifts that they will have well after I have gone. Hopefully one day they will read the stories to their grandchildren and for a moment they might remember being cuddled in my arms… just as my dad had remembered his grandmother all those long years ago.

INDIA TRAVEL ESSAY words and photography by Colleen Donaldson

“I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home.” This was the phrase my 8 year old son was repeating over and over almost in desperation while we were touring the Victoria Museum in Kolkata. His blond curly head bent as he walked behind us. He had, had enough of the pollution, littering, heat, and being in an environment that was different than his own. Funny thing is if you ask him today where he would go if he could travel again his answer would be India. My approach to travelling with kids doesn’t include the image of happy kids frolicking with generous amounts of relaxation time for me. I pretty much know that there will be moments of stress, meltdowns, cries for home, and uncertainty but it is all part of the adventure and it is always worth it. When my husband (Mike) and I received a wedding invitation from a business colleague in India, we both quickly said yes for us and our kids, but we knew what we were getting into. Mike has been to India over 40 times for his career as a designer of home goods, and I had been once as well. Attending a traditional Indian wedding in India was on my life to-do list and I was thrilled that my kids could experience it as well. We knew that India would be demanding on all of our senses so we had to prep our kids (wyatt age 9, and Finnley age 8) on what to expect. My goal for traveling to India with my kids was for them to see a world different to theirs and to be able to process the emotions that come with it. I wanted to give them room to feel fear and unknowing and hopefully rise out of that with confidence. The first stop of our Indian adventure was in Southern India in the area of Kerala. After many flights with a final 2 hour drive we arrived at our destination. The kids got their introduction to India through the window of a taxi cab - traffic everywhere, with constant honking, people walking, working, lounging about, cows on the side of the road, garbage, half built buildings that clearly had been idle for years, heat and humidity, palm trees, colors, and that was just the first 5 minutes. The first night was in Cochin, which can best be described by this quote from the Lonely Planet website: “Nowhere else in India could you find such an intriguing mix: giant fishing nets from China, a 400-year-old synagogue, ancient mosques, Portuguese houses and the crumbling remains of the British Raj.” In Cochin, one of Wyatt and Finnley’s favorite memories was helping the fisherman to hoist their giant fish nets up on the dock the first morning we were there. We also hired a tuk tuk driver to take us around the area and he took us to a space where laundry was done for the local hotels, as well as pointing out the local architecture and historical points. The kids, of course, will just tell you about the tiny kitten they saw on one stop. 13

Our next few days were spent at our Indian friends’ resort (Vasundhara Resort) on Lake Vembanad. We literally arrived via speedboat with all of the resort staff there to greet us with song and fresh coconut water and the royal treatment at the resort didn’t stop there. Finnley celebrated his 8th birthday there with a big traditional Southern Indian feast and all of the staff singing him “Happy Birthday”. We also visited a local preschool (sponsored by the resort) where the boys had an opportunity to hand out treats to all of the sweet children. The wedding was a plane ride away in Kolkata, a port city and capital of West Bengal as well as the former capital for the British Raj. Like most Indian weddings, there were many nights of festivities including the Mehndi ceremony and the Sangeet ceremony, all at night. We decided to keep the daytime activity to little excursions. On the busy sidewalks there was so much life happening in every inch of space - food vendors, workers, rickshaw drivers waiting for clients, stray dogs, people getting from one place to another. The evening ceremonies were at different spots around the city. Just the taxi ride alone through Kolkata was an overwhelming adventure. While stopped at lights, mothers holding a baby would beg at the window and if it wasn’t a mother it was a child, or a transgender man, or simply an everyday person hoping that we could help. Lots of conversation was held with our kids around that one. The first event was the Mehndi ceremony. The boys instantly fell in love with the colorful scene and quickly bonded with the Indian kids running around. Food and music was in abundance. Wyatt and I left with some beautiful henna work on our hands.

The Sangeet Ceremony, my favorite, was the next night. The ceremony centered around friends and family putting on special Bollywood style performances to entertain and celebrate the couple. We had gone out earlier that day and purchased traditional Indian dress to wear for the whole family. The boys felt connected and special in their kurta pajamas. Everyone wanted to take photos with them including the event staff and people on the street. Our last night in India was for the final event – the wedding! I finally had a great excuse to buy a beautiful bright pink sari, but by no means was I the most colorful one in the room. It was a sea of colors, sequins and flowers. My boys dressed in their kurta, vest and a necklace of flower petals. The actually ceremony didn’t start until after midnight and being that the moment was mainly just shared with family and close friends, we trotted off back to our hotel room with our bellies full of food and memories of kindness from every single person in the room. Often in school, my kids have to do creative writing around their personal “small moments”. Inevitably, they choose details from India – a chai tea from the chai walla, teaching their new Indian friend how to play tag, or swimming at night in a pool with a lighting storm in the background. In the moment, when travelling, life could feel a bit stressful or uncertain, but when my boys had time to process their whole experience I can see that they came away with a newfound confidence and a lot more understanding of the world they live in. Worth every penny.

WHAT MARLOWE EATS LIFESTYLE ESSAY words by Andrea Duclos and photography by Cecil D Luna and Andrea Duclos

I became vegan about 10 or 11 years ago now. And with the exception of a few backyard eggs from our chicks, I haven’t strayed from that at all. Prior to that I was vegetarian for about 6 to 8 years. I gave up red meat around the age of 12 and chicken around the age of 14. I think there can be A LOT of health benefits with being vegan— depending on how you go about it. Just like with any diet, it can go terribly wrong if not done with health-filled intentions. A vegan that eats only french fries and processed soy burgers isn’t going to be healthier than a omnivore who eats a well rounded diet, with mostly fresh veggies, fruits, and some meat. If eating a well balanced, unprocessed vegan diet, the health benefits are countless. With a vegan diet, you will find an assortment of whole nutrients, vitamins and minerals. You can expect your body to be alkaline, clean, and cholesterol free. Your digestive tract will be detoxed and uncluttered with hard to digest meat, creating high nutrients absorption and more energy too. The health effects are truly amazing. I became vegan about 4 to 5 years before having my daughter Marlowe. I stayed vegan through my pregnancy — with the exception of a piece of pizza I had one night. True story: I never threw up due to morning sickness, I had the best pregnancy ever. The only time I got ill was after the pizza, which ended up showing up again the next morning. Marlowe has been vegan since birth. There was a few times this past year where she’s had eggs from our backyard chickens, but it doesn’t happen often. She’s quite content being vegan, and so am I. She’s happy, healthy, and full of positivity and life.

Mornings always start with fruit. On most school mornings she has banana ice-cream for breakfast. It’s wonderful being able to eat ‘ice cream’ for breakfast, isn’t it? Sometimes she’ll have a fruit bowl or smoothie though. Weekends tend to be filled with homemade acai bowls and more banana ice-cream. She’s always been a huge fruit girl and will happily eat fruit morning, noon, and night. But lately I’ve been transitioning into a mostly fruitarian diet myself — so she’s upped her fruit game even more herself. Our rule at home though, is that she can eat absolutely as much fruit as she wants — but once she eats a cooked meal, there’s no more raw fruit that day. We’ve found this keeps any potential tummy issues non-existent by proper food combining. So snacks are fruit, until she eats cooked meals. For school lunches we usually send her with fruit for her snack time. And then lunch will be something like a bean quesadilla, veggie sushi, hummus carrot and avocado sandwich, or if we’re really short on time, a good ole’ peanut butter sandwich. For dinner we eat a lot of different soups and curries. A good amount of rice dishes too. One of her favorite meals is rice, beans and plantains, with kale chips or some other veggie. It’s usually pretty simple, but filling and whole things for dinner. If she’s hungry after dinner, she’ll have some peanut butter (either plain or on rice crackers) or popcorn (often with nutritional yeast.) I think one of the best ways to introduce a child to a vegan diet is to slowly introduce vegetables and if your child doesn’t like a vegetable prepared in a certain way, cook it a different way! There are ten million (slight exaggeration) ways to cook one single type of food.

I also find it’s pretty easy to add a lot of veggies into different dishes like soups or veggie rice bowls, with little problem. As long as food is seasoned well and the vegetables aren’t cut obscenely large, most kids will be okay if it’s a flavor they prefer. For Marlowe the best way to season things is with cumin, oregano, and smoked paprika. But there are so many different spices and herbs out there to try. It’s hard to make any big transition over night, so it’s good to remember that it’s okay to go in smaller steps. Sometimes there will be set backs, but it’s absolutely possible to transition kids (and adults) into better eating. In most of the recipes in my cookbook, The Plantilful Table, I’ve added kid-friendly tips to help make the meal more palatable for little ones, with little to no extra effort. It’s also good to keep in mind that sugar, dairy, and fats are highly addictive. It’s no easy task to break away from those things, whether

going vegan or just cutting those items out. But re-training your brain and taste buds is possible. For myself in particular, it was easier to do a complete detox and cut out all the bad stuff in one step. I was very strict about it for the first two weeks so I could move past the initial anticravings. But after the first two weeks I reminded myself every day, that it was just one day, that nothing had to be permanent - I could change my diet at any point in time, but this was the best option right now. After the two weeks I felt better than I ever had in my entire life and I never wanted to go back. I thought about it a few times with cheese, and I did try cheese once more a month or so after going vegan and instantly could see how bad it made me feel - stomach ache, poor digestion, and mucus immediately followed and I knew that I wouldn’t be going back to eating cheese anymore.

I think most people don’t realise how good they can truly feel until after they fully do it. The difference is HUGE. That being said, for some people it will be a lot easier to slowly transition. Maybe to first replace the milk with a milk alternative, then the cheese, then yogurt, then eventually cut those things out as needed. It depends on personality and lifestyle. I’m more of an all or nothing gal, so one big step worked best. No matter what way people go about it, I’m certain most people won’t go back to eating how they once did if they’re filling their days with new, whole, filling, and nutritiously dense foods.

EGGPLANT PASTA RECIPE words and photography by Andrea Duclos

INGREDIENTS: 2 medium eggplants 4 cups sweet tomatoes 1 small - medium onion, diced 6 large cloves garlic, peeled + sliced a big handful fresh basil (leaving some for garnish) fresh oregano and thyme (optional, but recommended) olive oil 1-2 tablespoons sherry vinegar salt + pepper your favorite pasta

METHOD: - set oven to broil - slice eggplants in half, lengthwise and place on roasting sheet - drizzle in olive oil and sprinkle with salt - place in oven and broil until completely blackened - while eggplants are roasting, place your tomatoes on a tray. quarter larger tomatoes, if using. add half your garlic to tray, and a few leaves of basil. drizzle in olive oil, salt and pepper, and toss around, coating everything well - now the fun part, with a large spoon or fork, begin scooping out the eggplant flesh. It’s okay if a bit of skin makes it’s way into the dish, but you want o make sure you’re getting as much of the very soft, tender eggplant as you can. The longer you roast the eggplant, the creamier it will be! So don’t be afraid to ‘overcook’ it a bit. Scoop it all up and leave until ready to use. discard skins - add to oven and broil until tomatoes are tender, blistered, and juicy - heat a large heavy bottom pot on medium heat with olive oil - begin sautéing onions, stirring frequently to not burn - once onions are softened, add the remaining garlic, and fresh herbs, and give the pot a stir - add your eggplant to the pot, and approximately 1 cup of water, 1/4 cup at time. Stirring and continuing to soften the eggplant even more - continue stirring and cooking your eggplant for another 10 minutes or so, then lower heat, add lid to top and steam for another 5 minutes or so - add tomatoes, garlic, and roasted basil to pot, stir - add salt + pepper to taste - add in 1 to 2 tablespoons of sherry vinegar. This will add an extra kick of sweetness and acid to the dish. I’d add one tablespoon first, mix and taste and the decide if you want to add more or not! - add a handful of fresh chopped herbs - toss with favorite pasta

THE PASSING OF TIME PERSONAL ESSAY words by Candice Jones Peelman and photography by Keith Klenowski

I woke up thirty-one today. Tangled in a warm nest of blankets and toddler and 10 month old legs. I slink out of bed, as quietly as I can, and slip in to the bathroom for those few quiet minutes of alone time when I wake before they do. I stare at myself in the mirror. Thirty-one. An age I thought was reserved for adults. I’ve become one, somehow suddenly. With two babies, a marriage, a mortgage, a career, all the accoutrements of adulthood, weighing heavily on my shoulders. I furrow my brow, noting the deep lines where too many months have passed squinting while driving after lost pairs of eyeglasses. I’ve since foregone the gorgeous Prada and Versace for cheap online orders, and then, as those have disappeared too, resorted to the narrowing of my eyes to put into focus a road sign, a distant street name, leaving two permanent tally marks between my eyebrows, stationed on my face like cornices on an old building. I am thirty–one. My ears are piqued for the slightest hint of the baby rolling off the bed, and I do what I did when I was a child. I stare long enough for my eyes to glaze over and for my vision to blur just a bit, giving myself that nice glossed over look like a good Instagram filter, and it’s fleetingly that I see it. I see my daughters face staring back at me. I’ve been told before that her face is mine. The same round cheeks and big brown eyes as my mother, the same as me, the same eyes critical and curious staring back at me. She is a reincarnation of my toddler self, ringlet curls like flax spun into brittle gold. I walk back to the bedroom and hover over them, take a few sleeping sibling photos, the good mother documentarian that I am, while the morning light pours in through the blinds. I nestle myself around the 10 month old and watch them sleep for a few more minutes. “You see me mama?” She always asks. Asks when she’s hiding under the dining room table, waiting to jump out and scare me. Asks when she’s tired and under piles of blankets in my bed. Asks, as I turn my back towards her, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep myself, carefully arranging my arm around the baby’s head and shifting my weight to one side, trying keep myself from falling off the edge of the bed altogether. “You see me mama?” she asks, pulling on my body to turn towards her, to sleep face to face, eye-to-blinkingly-sleepy-then-closed-eye. My own birthday reminds me of her, and although 30 months have passed since her birth, I am still unable to separate my being from hers. I wake up another year older today and she will too, soon enough. I wrestle not with aging personally, but the passage of time just continues to distance me from each wondrous stage.

I admit I am mourning. Mourning of the loss of her sweet baby milk breath, the soft fuzz of her head before her hair grew in like a wild yellow thicket, her milky tooth smile at my breast. Long gone are those days, and the losses continue. Her words are more pronounced now, her hand needs less of my holding. Opinions are strong and all her own. Sometimes when I press my forehead against hers, I hope that our thoughts cross like our eyes do. I don’t know how to contain her. The growing. The getting bigger. Her aging. I don’t know how to make it stop. As time passes, so does each precious and perfect version of her. And desperately, I don’t know how to keep her mine, not even if I squint in the mirror and see her reflection in my own.

LIFE EXPOSED PHOTOGRAPHY ESSAY photography by Julie Guertin

TWENTY DAYS PERSONAL ESSAY words and photography by Abi Quisenberry

I baked cookies because thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s what you do amidst the chaos to quiet the noise I am numb a black hole in a sea of pine trees and that terrifies me I was never so disillusioned to believe She would be our savior but He will be our demise.

Twenty days have passed. Twenty days of holiday shopping and Christmas tree lights and friends gathering and babies crying and fighting and loving, and life going on as normal. Except that it’s not. I found myself being shocked to feel happy the other day, and that worried me. I am mourning what once was, or at least the death of the hope I still had in our nation. Twenty days since what I knew to be true came to light and he won the presidential election with a sweeping victory. My friends told me it wouldn’t happen, it wasn’t possible that he would win. America is better than that they said. The election is rigged. And while I tried to believe them, I still had a feeling in the pit of my stomach as the day drew nearer. And I took to my nervous habits again and ate comfort food and tried to work. And then he took Florida right around dinner time and I became panicked. I rushed to bring the babies home from school, I tried to settle them into bed as normal as I could, covers up to their necks, all cozy and safe, while the whole wide nation fell apart around me.

It’s been twenty days. And nothing’s changed. And everything has. At first we planned to run away. Buy a hotel in another country, live the dream. And then we realized how privileged this was. How we had to stay and fight, no matter what came. We had an emergency meeting following the election. Papers lined the halls for parents to write out their feelings and suggestions of ways we could help the community. Strangers cried and held each other. Open in their grieving. Unashamed of the tears. Trying to process. Desperately wishing for an alternate reality where what outfit you wore still mattered. Around the city post-it notes with words of encouragement and comfort and solidarity appeared, walls of words. Walls of emotions. The people mobilized. We gathered in peaceful protests and joined hands around the lake and for a moment, came together as one. Old, young, White, Black, Brown. More than ever the last few weeks, the words from the statue of liberty ring in my ear.

And truth be told, I’m still numb from it all, still in this weird place of denial and bargaining and “Give me your huddled masses, yearning to trying to talk myself out of the grief and into the breathe free.” doing.

Oh America, where have we gone wrong? How can we make great a nation that never was? A nation that built itself on the back of slaves? That was stolen from the natives here before us? How can we be so disillusioned to believe going back would be progress?

It’s a crucial time in our nation, a time when hate for differences is being embraced. Where the racism so heavy in our society finally has a name, and isn’t afraid to hide. For some of us, it is a time of fear, and a time of preparation. What will January hold? We don’t know. I had someone tell me the other day that I just want to be right about him. But the truth is, I want so desperately to be wrong. So so very wrong. I keep hoping that this is always how it is when you lose. That this is normal to feel so overcome with grief. And then, the other night I asked my elderly neighbor her thoughts on it all, and she told me “I’m glad I’m old,” and that’s when I realized this election was so different than ones in the past. It isn’t about our chosen candidate not winning, it’s about what’s at stake. Lives, liberties and equality.

Over and over I have heard parents talk about sheltering their children from the world, not talking about politics and race because they want their kids to grow up without fear- to have a “childhood.” And I get it. I really do. In a perfect world all children would have to worry about is if they had their lost tooth secure under their pillows for the tooth fairy, or if their Christmas list had made it to the north pole. But, there’s a problem with this thought process because it’s entirely based in white privilege. Black and brown kids don’t get that option. They have to know the world can be sometimes scary, because that’s how they survive to adulthood. Let that marinate for a minute.

We talk about hard issues with my boys because we have to. Because I want them to grow up strong and fierce. We talk about the election and what that might mean for them and their friends. We talk about Standing Rock and how we must always fight for what is right. That clean drinking water shouldn’t be a luxury, that land held sacred should stay that way. I want them to be rebels with a cause. I want them to know their voices matter and they must use their voices to impact change. They also know they aren’t allowed to play with guns or anything that resembles a weapon because of Tamir Rice. They know they can’t look in car windows and check their reflection, and that when a police officer comes to my window, they’re hands should not be rummaging, but plainly visible. They know who won the election, that me and Ryan are distraught over it, and they know what is at stake. We talk about standing for justice, and we take them on peaceful protests. We write cards of support to our Muslim neighbors in Oakland, and to refugees. We also talk about always standing up to bullies, and they’re prepared to fight to protect the people they love. And those they don’t know.

Our children are our future. We should be raising the fiercest of lovers and fighters. Now is not the time to be silent, and especially not at home. Let’s pave the way to a better future for our children. Let’s raise renegades.

SCAMP & DUDE ARTISAN PROFILE words by Jo Tutchener-Sharp and photography by Scamp & Dude

I had a brain haemorrhage in October 2015 and found I had a blood tumour on my brain that needed to be removed. It was when recovering from brain surgery in hospital and desperately missing my children that I was inspired to create Scamp & Dude. The brand is all about giving kids an extra sense of security when they need it most. It tackles separation anxiety via a team of special superheroes. At the heart of the collection are two Superhero Sleep Buddies, which are animal-shaped cushion comforters - one superhero dinosaur and one superhero bunny. They watch over kids while they sleep, keeping them safe, and have a little pocket at the back to hold a photograph of someone they want to keep close, great for parents who travel with work or sleepovers. For every Superhero Sleep Buddy sold, another is donated to a child in need. We are donating to London’s leading children’s hospital and two amazing charities Grief Encounter and Don’t Forget the Kids, who support kids who have either lost a parent or are struggling to cope with a parent being seriously ill. There is a clothing range that gives kids superpower confidence on the move. Superheroes, lightning bolts and even a superpower infused leopard print sweatshirt, t-shirts and leggings make up the collection. All have ‘A superhero has my back’ message running along the neckline and an embroidered superpower button on the sleeve for when kids need a special burst of superpower. At the moment, I’m working on expanding the interiors side of the brand, there will be a range of bedding and also some new superheroes joining the family.

I am always testing my designs out on my boys, seeing which characters they like the best. My 4-year old got out of bed the other night and asked me to go and look after him as he had lost his Superhero Sleep Buddy. It had slipped down the side of his bed. Once it was back by his side he was happy for me to go and finish my dinner. Moments like this when I can see my ideas working are so special. I have so many ideas for my next collection and I can’t wait to start designing again. I have spent many months now working on the admin, legal and safety side of things, it’s time to get creative again which is what I love the most. I am just as ambitious now as I ever was, motherhood hasn’t made me less so. It has made me determined to have a career that works around my family so that I can collect the boys from school and can make their school plays etc. I don’t want to miss out on moments like that. But Scamp & Dude certainly isn’t a part time job; it is full on, the hours I miss in the afternoon when I have collected the boys from school/nursery, I make up for when they have gone to bed. I think one of the hardest challenges is juggling work and kids. I think I am finally getting there now, where when I am with the kids they get 100% of my attention and when I am not with the boys I am 100% focused on work. Not a lot else goes on in my world now, other than work and kids, but for the time being this is the way it has to be. www.scampanddude.com

SOUTH WALES TRAVEL & FASHION ESSAY words and photography by Rebecca Lindon

For me, Wales has always conjured up images of vast rolling hills and valleys, smattered in little white houses surrounded by farm animals drinking from babbling brooks. My last visit to Wales was rockclimbing in the Black Mountains as a young woman and I had long dreamt of returning to explore with my family. On this visit to the country we would be focusing on south Wales and staying at a beautiful 18th century cottage. Our first day involved an epic 8-hour car journey accompanied by such questions as ‘are we nearly there?’ (two minutes after leaving home), ‘how old will you be when I’m 37?’, 1428 renditions of ‘Away In A Manger’ and requests for the correct spelling of 2917 words. Needless to say, our stop in Cardiff was met with relief all round. As a port city and the capital of Wales, Cardiff has so much to offer. The city centre is bustling and was particularly beautiful during the festive season, with both the twinkling lights and twinkling eyes of its warm community. We aren’t big shoppers so we chose to head down to Cardiff Bay and Mermaid Quay where we ate before heading out across the sea barrage to Penarth Marina. Despite being late November, the sun was shining and the children seemed oblivious to the chill in the air as they played pirates on the shipwrecks in the children’s playground. Cardiff Castle was our next stop and proved to be a highlight of our journey through south Wales. If the beautiful architecture wasn’t enough, the incredible interiors created by William Burges and the undeground tunnels had us utterly charmed. With Rememberance Day not far behind us, our 4-year old son had many questions about the First World War and we spent time discussing it further in the air raid shelter underneath the castle.

Wellingtoon boots by Mothercare and Muddy Puddles.

The last part of our journey on to our cottage, took us off the main roads and opened us into vast valleys of green fields. The sun was setting and our tummys rumbled as we pulled onto the winding driveway up to Bryn Eglur. Bryn Eglur in Camarthenshire has been lovingly restored by Dorian Bowen who grew up in Wales (before spending 25 years in London) and returned to bring the derelict building back to life - a cottage that he had played in as a child. The result is breathtaking, where original wood panelling sits alongside modern appliances with ease. The stairs have been climbed thousands of times over the centuries and the floorboards creak with memories of days gone by. Bryn Eglur is truly off-the-grid no TV, no wi-fi, just conversation, laughter and fresh air - a chance to reconnect. For us, it served as the perfect base to travel outwards across Camarthen and Pembroke. Our first evening was spent eating the Welsh cakes that Dorian had left for us, and stoking a fire that warmed us through the night. As soon as the sun rose, the children were keen to get outside; running through woodland paths behind the house, climbing trees and losing welly boots in squelchy mud. They were in their element and this became their daily post-breakfast activity.

Eve and Zeus wear pyjamas by Snork. Slippers by Mahabis.

Eve wears dress by Nellie Quats and tights by Plystre Kids. Zeus wears Jumper by Nieva Knitwear and trousers by Little Indi.

Our other highlights were a trip to the National Botanical Garden in Camarthen which gave us an opportunity to learn about plants from around the world (and offered a warm haven from the November cold). The butterfly house was magical and the outdoor play area kept us busy as bees. The moment we will never forget was our walk along the cliffs from Stackpole Quay to Barafundle Bay at sunset. Our eyes were met with the prettiest little bay we had ever seen, completely deserted and drenched in golden light with hints of blue and red. A robin hopped alongside us as we descended the stone steps and ran wild and free towards the water with my son shouting â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;my heart is so fullâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;. We stopped at small village pubs to refuel and took many a wrong turn that led to unexpected walks and delightful sights. And that was the theme of this short break from everyday life - a chance to break free from the stresses of life, with no plan, and fill up our hearts with nature and the warmth of the Welsh people.

Eve wears romper by Plystre Kids and top by Next. Zeurs wears jumpsuit by Abc123me.

MODERN FAMILY PERSONAL ESSAY words by Jasmyn Smith and photography by Caitlyn Joyce

Jasmyn wears dress by Free People.

Las Vegas life was completely different for my kids than the life they have here in Hawaii. I grew up in Vegas and so really I didn’t know any better until moving to Hawaii. We had a regular life of school, playing with friends at the park and swimming, but really there was nothing in Las Vegas that gave my kids that sense of adventure which I know their little souls were craving. They just love the outdoors and in Vegas it gets so hot that really the outdoors just means finding a swimming pool. Vegas is also not a family oriented city so there is not very many things for kids to do. My husband got a job offer one day with a friend who already lived in Hawaii and we just had to jump on it. My ex-husband (Graye and Jude’s Dad) had to be convinced to come with us as well because we are not the type of parents to spend any moments away from our kids. He was offered the same job that my husband was offered and we all moved to Hawaii as one big ol’ modern-day family as we like to call ourselves. We sold everything we had and couldn’t wait to live that simple life that we always talked about having. It’s amazing how much you can accumulate over the years , especially when you have 3 children. When I tell people our story and how we all moved to Hawaii together and how we have dinners together and how both the kids’ dads work together, they laugh and say we are like a soap opera. But our ‘modern day family’ didn’t come so easy at first. Breaking up any family can be hard for everyone. My kids were so little when their dad and I divorced that the thought of them being around anyone else besides the two of us was a pretty hard adjustment to make. But of course life must move on, and I got remarried, and of course he has had girlfriends - some have been super easy and then there was one who was completely overbearing, but I just had to keep saying to myself, ‘the kids are happy, the kids are happy,’ because at the end of the day isn’t that all that matters? At least that’s what I thought, and it helped me. And they were so happy, they are the happiest kids in the world in my eyes, especially in the situation they are in. My ex-husband and I just see this parenting thing as complete teamwork, and some things we don’t agree on and some we do, but at the end of the day no matter what our squabbles with one another, we never ever let the kids know what is happening. We never involved them and we never will. I think that is why it is so easy for us to get along now, the kids are always first and no matter my frustrations or how much I dislike the current girlfriend, I don’t let the kids know how I feel, and it took time to get to this point. One day the kids will look back and say, ‘my parents liked each other, they were friends’, and that is my ultimate goal. I don’t want my kids walking around saying, ‘oh my parents hate each other’. What’s best for the kids? This is exactly why we were all able to move to Hawaii together. Living peacefully and happy without stress makes parenting that much better. My kids were all so excited about moving, the youngest Sylas was only 2 at the time so I don’t think he really knew what was happening. When we did finally make the move it was actually hardest on him. We moved him from his crib in Vegas to a regular shared bed with his sister in Hawaii, and a room shared with 5 other people (including my brothers who decided to move to Hawaii with us for a couple months). His Grandma and Grandpa weren’t here with us, none of his toys were here with us and the house he was so used to was gone. We really did make the simple life move and for a kid that was so used to a routine it was hard on him. He asked me if we could go home every day for about 6 months. Eventually he got used to it, and now tells me that he wants to visit Las Vegas but we have to come back to Hawaii.

Graye and Jude on the other hand rocked the move! The first day here their dad took them fishing, Graye took onto surfing, and they just loved each other more I think with every adventure that came their way. Even now when I keep them at home for a couple days they fight like crazy but as soon as we go out on an adventure they are the best of friends. They love it. They are enrolled in one of the best public schools in Hawaii. The kids in their school don’t care about style or what anyone is wearing like they do on the mainland. It’s just a simple, simple life and it’s so easy and fresh. If feels so good to know that what is really important in our life is our family, and the experiences that we get to share together. To me the memories of what I can give these kids is the most important thing about raising them. Las Vegas is a very materialistic world, its important there to have a nice car and a nice house and nice clothes for your kids. But here, in Hawaii, none of that matters, at least for us. All three of my kids are in one bedroom and my husband and I have a tiny little room next to the kids. We will be bringing a new baby into this home and we will then have four kids in one room but we don’t care because to us, none of that is important. I’d rather spend my time as a parent giving my kids a sense of adventure and a world full of amazing memories than worry about how much room we may need or what kind of car we should be driving. This world is full of so many adventures and I am making sure that every single day of my kids’ tiny little lives, they get to experience all that it has to offer. And I think Hawaii is the best place for us to be right now. I am beyond happy that we made this move, I think it has helped us grow as parents, and yes I mean all three of us..

TRUNKAROO PERSONAL ESSAY words by Sahar Meghani and photography by Trunkaroo

I started my career in finance in New York. My first job after graduating from Wellesley College was on Wall Street as an Investment Banker where I was advising large corporations on their strategy and transactions such as mergers or acquisitions. I then went on to working in Private Equity where I was part of a team investing in and running smaller businesses. I got to travel all over the US visiting factories and production facilities and speaking to management teams - I was fascinated by what I saw and learned. Both experiences were definitely grueling in terms of the hours and work but also incredibly rewarding as I gained a strong foundation in business, worked alongside extremely smart people and met some very supportive mentors and friends.

projects, science experiments, engineering challenges and hours of hands-on learning. I’ve always wanted to start my own business and have been passionate about children’s education and learning from a young age, especially for young girls. But my three little nieces were the true inspiration behind Trunkaroo. I was constantly on the look out for smart, beautiful toys and activities for them but felt really discouraged by the options available in the market. Worse, I felt frustrated by the stereotypical pink and blue aisles, which did little to truly nurture my nieces’ curiosity about the world.

I was then lucky enough to be accepted to Harvard Business School to do an MBA. During those two years I became intrigued with tech startups and so after finishing the program, I made the career switch out of finance and into industry. I did Business Development for LinkedIn and then was Head of Product for Everline.com after moving to London with my husband. Those experiences helped me understand how to design, sell and market products, develop websites, delight customers, build teams and run tech-enabled businesses – all of which have been extremely helpful as I decided to launch Trunkaroo.

So I started researching and planning activities and experiments to do with them – as we did these projects, it was delightful to watch them build confidence, explore new ideas, enjoy a sense of achievement and also be super creative and imaginative. I realized then how important such hands-on projects are for children but also how difficult it is for busy parents to plan and do them with their children at home. That’s when I had my “aha” moment. I started developing prototypes, getting feedback on them from parents and teachers, testing them with children and then iterating and improving the product based on what we were learning. I also hired incredibly talented designers and writers to help me bring Trunkaroo to life and we launched the business in April 2016.

Trunkaroo offers hands-on art and STEM (science, technology, engineering and maths) inspired project kits, which are engaging and delightful for children and convenient for busy families. Trunkaroo projects can be purchased as single kits or via our subscription plans and include expert-approved, gender-neutral

Research shows that the toys that children play with when they are young really influence what they feel interested in in their later years. Children’s minds are like sponges, the more topics they explore the more they can discover about themselves and their passions – so it is critical to expose children to a variety of

mediums, experiences and environments in their early years. Whether it is a bubble science project or a superhero themed roleplay, all Trunkaroo projects address eight key areas: Exploration, Making, Gross Motor Development, Imagination, Social Interaction, Fine Motor Development, Experimentation and Communication. While children do get such exposure at school to some degree, there is also a large body of research which suggests that the “home learning environment” for children is a key determining factor of their future success. We understand that even the most well-intentioned parents are extremely busy and time-constrained and unfortunately it can take hours of research and planning to so such activities with children at home. And so at Trunkaroo we hope to make this process a bit more convenient and hassle-free for families. Watching children interact with Trunkaroo has for me been the highlight of starting the business We test every project with children

before it goes to market – as you can imagine, those testing session can be really fun and also incredibly insightful. Unlike user testing with adults, children are hyper honest with their feedback! We’ve seen their faces light up over many projects and received countless hugs and thankyou cards, which is so rewarding. But then every now and again a child will walk up to me to tell me that they found an activity boring or that they’d rather be doing something difficult – it goes without saying that those ideas get nixed right away! What I’ve found most interesting is that both young boys and girls have as much fun dressing up and putting on a play as they do building structures, doing science experiments and solving puzzles. Children can getlost for hours in their marvelous creations and concoctions and watching them engage with their Trunkaroo projects is truly fascinating. One thing children love most is that the package is addressed to them, so they feel a lot of ownership and pride when it comes to their Trunkaroo.

I’m constantly aware of things that surround me and I’m always curious to understand and excited by how they work. I love living in London for this reason as there are so many places to gain inspiration from. I enjoy visiting the museums (especially The Science Museum and The National History Museums) and I try to take out time in my week to “make” and do projects myself as that process gets my creative juices flowing. We see ourselves as the next big children’s brand. We passionately believe in the importance of STEM learning for young children and so are working on developing new products and content along those lines. We’re also in the middle of some really interesting collaboration with experts in such fields. We truly believe that when children engage in hands-on play they not only enjoy themselves but they also develop key skills which will help them succeed later in life: creativity, imagination and curiosity. We hope that one day Trunkaroo can inspire every child to be a mini-maker, scientist, artist, inventor or explorer! www.trunkaroo.com

MOTHERHOOD IN SILENCE PERSONAL ESSAY words by Sam Geddes and photography by Juliet Lemon

Some days I wonder how I got here. It is 22 years in on this journey called ‘motherhood’ and I can’t seem to grasp that I am a mother. When, I fell pregnant at 19 years old, the need to be better, do well and right the wrongs of what I had got myself into automatically activated ‘the wall’ that is my defence system. I don’t think I ever took it down. Even though I started out supposing I’d take on the world, on my own of course, it didn’t pan out that way. I fell at the first hurdle. I walked straight back into the mess that created this very situation. My motherhood had no chance. It was fighting for air for the next eleven years. Being quiet. Be quiet. Stay quiet. In my experience it doesn’t make a difference if you live with a monster or the monster is firmly rooted in your mind. If you believe you are not worthy you will believe anything. And that I did. Whether I drummed up the courage to join a mothers group or wander down to the park, I always felt complete inadequacy as I watched mothers with their children. When I overheard conversations about breastfeeding triumphs (I totally crashed and burned on that front) and how they cooked up the next month’s baby slop before breakfast – I just wanted to fill my ears with that slop and shut out every last supermummy word. Oh and don’t share advice with friends Sam – how utterly stupid of me! Heaven forbid the five years head start you had. It means zilch - you know nothing. To be honest I think that was one tiny situation that I took to heart. But why wouldn’t I? As a friend, you want to give added fuel that helps this mother steer the way with some hope. Shush…don’t speak. Oh and smile sweetly when you get given advice. Because of course YOU need it! Don’t let them know.

In my mind I have this very clear vision of what a mother should be. The way she looks, the way she speaks – the way she loves. I just can’t fit myself into this mould I have made for myself. This mother, I speak of, was never a mother herself. She had no children. And yet everything she did was magic. She was as pristinely presented as any French woman. An apron-wearing kitchen goddess, who would win any bake-off, hands down, even against Nigella. She was jolly, yet fierce (with complete grace). My (step) Grandma had breakfast on the table ready every morning. I’m not just talking bowls and spoons here. The table would be dressed with a tablecloth, salt and pepper, glasses, cups, saucers and teapot, with cosy, in readiness for a full on feast. And during the day we would learn everything. From the names of the birds in the garden to flowers scattered along the woodland floor. We would make coconut ice and fudge and delight in licking the bowl. She would tell us tales of fairies and arrange for us to take the magic home. She even made me a beautifully fitted and embellished fairy dress and crown. I truly believed too. If Disney had known about her, they would never have created the wicked step-mother, as we know her today. As I grew up, this woman became my marker and the lighthouse I needed to find my way home. Albeit, the mould, still a very tight fit. It’s so very hard to aspire to be this ‘mother’ whom I have imprinted so perfectly within my mind. I have fallen quite publically from grace on many occasions. My children have witnessed me at my most vulnerable, whilst I lay hopelessly sobbing on the floor waiting for a miracle. They have seen me fail day after day. They have seen me hold my hand up and say ‘no more’ very quietly.

I thought to myself, raising children singlehandedly must be the hardest thing of all, I’m not actually sure about that. If you take my first attempt at co-parenting - well let’s not include that at all. When I met my now husband, it wasn’t expected, I had signed myself off men for life. The ‘battle the world’ alone woman had returned and, I thought, I was planning on keeping her. I attempted to be graceful as he navigated this ‘new thing’ called parenting – it was certainly hard to establish new boundaries in a team that were already so sure of themselves. Those hierarchal dynamics took a battering as each of us tried to re-find our place in this Newdom.

professionals allowed) and love is for fools (no we can’t have none of that). All along she was looking the wrong way, and listening to the wrong silence. To have all the messy and glorious thrown at me, and, the moments when all that ‘stuff’, all that unknowing hugs you back with the most unconditional love you have ever felt. That is when Motherhood no longer sits in silence, it shouts. And I realised it was time to listen. I am a mother, surviving motherhood in silence. (Along with my man)

I share this with you now because it has taken me This was not a quiet experience. With all of these this long (those 22 years) to know myself. Here loudly silent experiences, a kind of magic began I have stood in silence, wondering if I am doing to stir. it all ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, considering why nobody asks my advice and why I never give mine. As a I realised along the way, especially as the girls mother, surely you have so much to give, don’t got older (and more vocal), that silently; both you? To have all this experience, wisdom sat my husband and I, as we muddled it through, quietly in a corner – is simply a catastrophe. As a without words of wisdom from peers or family mother you have this quiet courage, you create, – actually created some rather wonderful human you are wise everyday – you are nurturing the beings. future generation. That’s pretty big stuff! I’d forgotten, this free spirit, who as a child would run wildly through the wilderness (parents frantically looking for her daily), this ray of light who would have taken on the world.

When I began to realise that I could be, and am indeed the vision of what a mother is, that was the day I stood up for my motherhood. As a mother, let not another mother (or father) sit in silence next to you. We have much more to give. She had allowed the ‘silence’ of this outer world Take credit. Listen. Embrace loudly your jolly to leak out her fear, which had overcome her. and fierce grace. Tell everybody! Sweeping her into this dark nothingness where she fought hopelessly with all the things she was If you would love to delve into a longer supposed to do. She couldn’t recognise herself as conversation, my door is always open, for tea and a mother. The world had told her that her vision nattering about the messy and glorious. There of what a mother is ‘these days’ is most certainly will be silence, but that will be because I will nothing like the apron-wearing goddess – and by be listening to you with an open heart and that the way teaching was a thing of the past (only look, of knowing.

www.petitmioche.com organic & fair trade childrenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s apparel made in CA, USA

BAKING COOKIES PHOTOGRAPHY ESSAY words and photography bt Leanne Vice

I’m Leanne and I’m a photographer and mom of three boys. My twins just turned four and the little guy just turned two. They are exactly 23.5 months apart (we are crazy, I know). It still blows my mind that I am a mom of all boys. I grew up as the only daughter of a single mom. Until I got married I knew NOTHING about boys or about living with them. Little boys are like mini hurricanes. They are full of energy and it is astounding how destructive they are. We have crayon on walls, broken sconces and dressers that I cannot use because no matter how many times I tell them not to, they empty the clothes onto the floor every night. When they were smaller and people came over to our house, they would roll their eyes because we had the place so babyproofed even they couldn’t open the doors. I could tell they were thinking, “Okay... you are like one of those crazy helicopter parents aren’t you?” They SO did not understand. Honestly, the house was babyproofed like that so that I could sit down! Otherwise, I’d be up constantly taking knives out of hands and picking up broken glass. Some people’s kids don’t do this, but mine absolutely do. We have had barefooted toddlers escape Thanksgiving (in the cold, at night), a kid who has broken his arm twice within a span of five months... I kid you not, we have met our out-of-pocket maximum on our health insurance every year since I became pregnant with my bigger guys.

It used to bother me. I would think, “What in the WORLD am I doing wrong?” We seem to live in a state of mild chaos all the time, and it seems like everyone else has everything a lot more together than I do (and for the most part, they do). But I’m learning to embrace it. Recently all three boys have started showing some interest in “helping” me do things. Typically, this results in dirty clothes put in the dryer with clean ones, and a shattered jar of spaghetti sauce at the grocery store. I figured, though, that baking cookies was safe enough and if all they did was get flour everywhere we could handle that. These images already make me cry a little bit and only a few months has passed. They grow SO fast. If I could give any advice to other moms of boys, it would be to go easy on yourself, always get them more than one pair of shoes or else you will never be able to find them (even if you have three kids and shoes are stinking expensive...I still have not learned this), and to document them and take photos constantly because amidst all the chaos, they’re growing up. And before you know it they will be taller than you.

PERU TRAVEL ESSAY words and photography by Melina Wallisch

We are a family of four living in a mountain town called South Lake Tahoe in California. In August, we visited Peru with our two children Brodie, 9 and Mia, 7. Brodie and Mia have been in a two-way bilingual immersion program since kindergarten, and speak Spanish. It was pretty amazing witnessing the two of them utilizing their gift of dual languages. The idea to take a family holiday in Peru all began after talking with Maestra Sara, Brodie’s teacher, who had stayed with a local family in Cusco, Peru. The father is an artist, mother a homemaker and together they have two grown daughters and a son Mia’s age. Sara connected with the family through attending Spanish classes at the local University. The family does not speak any English, but Brodie and Mia could be the bridge of communication between our two families, and we would have the opportunity to enjoy home-cooked Peruvian meals. We dreamed of Peru for several months before we packed our carry-on bags and took off. Cusco, whose name derives from a Quecha word meaning navel, or centre, was formerly the capital of the Inca Empire. When the Spanish conquistadors arrived in the 16th century, Spanish became the official language of Peru, but Quechan is still preserved by the native people of the Andes. Peruvian Spanish is beautiful and slow, making it an ideal place for Spanish learners. We spent two weeks in Cusco including three days in Machu Picchu. Watching Brodie and Mia translating Spanish with native fluency was a rewarding family experience for us. The first day with our host family started off as quite a challenge. But, with the help of our children’s Spanish tongue, we soon bonded over mate de coca, or coca tea, which has been used for centuries by the indigenous peoples in the

Andean region for altitude sickness. There was a lot of getting our kids’ attention and wanting to know how to say this or what does this mean. It was not easy, but it worked. Our little ones got along wonderfully with their new friends. Not only were Brodie and Mia a tremendous help in communicating with our host family, they chatted it up with the old lady in the market, the crazy taxi drivers, the restaurant workers, and on and on. When we got lost, they asked for directions in Spanish. Cusco is a walking city with much to explore. We started our days at Plaza Del Armas, the central square in the old city. The market was one of our favorite spots, and where we usually ended up at the end of the day. Aside from three days in Machu Picchu, our schedule was we had no schedule. We visited the Chocolate Museum and Factory (twice!) for their great views and sweet treats. The kids gaped at the medley of stuffed native Peruvian animals on display at the Natural History Museum. We also took excursions into the Sacred Valley of the Incas, including the mysterious Moray Terraces, the tiny textile village of Chinchero, and the ancient Salt Mines. We hiked up and down the beautiful artist neighborhood of San Blas, with its blue doors and ancient Incan stone alleyways. We got a “Boleto Turistico”, or tourist ticket so we could wander nearby archeological sites and museums like Coricancha (the most important temple in the Inca Empire, dedicated to the Sun God) and the fortress of Saksaywaman. We took the city bus tour high up in the hills above Cusco to rest our legs and experience the towering Cristo Blanco up close and personal. On the way to the top, we pulled over, petted a llama and held hands in a healing ceremony with the last Shaman in Peru.

Then thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Machu Picchu, the Lost City of the Incas, situated high up in a tropical mountain cloud forest. From Cusco it is four hours by train. Some make the two or four-day hike through the Sacred Valley to get there, just as the Incas used to do. Maybe when the kids are a little bit older! We opted for the train which was pretty incredible with its panoramic windows, winding through Spanish colonial villages steeped in Andean history and culture. The biodiversity of the Andean ecosystem is vast, ranging from high desert and massive snow-capped peaks to the tropical jungles along the Urubamba River which flows into the Amazon. We arrived at Machu Picchu Pueblo, also known as Aguas Calientes (meaning â&#x20AC;&#x153;hot springsâ&#x20AC;?). No plans had been made concerning our accommodation, so we walked into the first hostel we came upon and booked two nights in a private family room with a bath overlooking the rainforest for 150 sols/night, or about $50 American dollars. This was a highlight of our

trip for Brodie and Mia. Many visitors arrive by train, ride the bus to the main Park entrance and spend a few hours there before riding the bus back down to catch the evening train back to Cusco. We wanted to stay a few extra nights, so that we could be present for the sunset in Machu Picchu after all the crowds have thinned out and to soak up as much energy as we could of this sacred land. I highly recommend this! Also, skip the hours waiting in lines for the buses. Hiking to the entrance of Machu Picchu took us two and a half hours, straight up, taking lots of breaks. Yes there was some whining, but it was well worth the views (and the workout!). It just made the visit to the healing waters of the hot springs that much sweeter. Preparing for Cusco, Machu Picchu and trekking in the Andes Mountains does take some effort and a little research. Lots of layers are essential. The sun in Cusco can be blazing hot one minute, and then suddenly a cloud rolls in and it is freezing cold. We encountered a few downpours, even in the dry season.

We made sure to save some room in our bags for keepsakes, which included a Peru soccer jersey, llama keychains for friends, an alpaca scarf for my mom, and a traditional Peruvian pan flute. Next time I will acquire a traditional Peruvian blanket! Overall I would describe our family vacation as leisurely and meaningful. We spent lots of time wandering with no destination, lingering around food, observing daily life at the plaza or discovering treasures in the market. Sometimes we would catch the Olympics on a restaurant TV or snuggled in bed at the hotel. Peru is a wonder for the senses. The sights (llamas in the streets), smells (muna tea), sounds (howling of wild street dogs) and tastes (cuy, or guinea pig, is a famous dish) all mingled with an awareness of being someplace magical. The kids kept daily journals, an evening ritual of expressing the exciting happenings of the day. Our words and pictures are only the beginning of a lifelong love of travel and adventure together. We came home fulfilled on so many levels. We worked through some karma and experienced moments of pure total joy. Most of all, we brought back a sense of appreciation of faraway lands and a love of learning and experiencing different cultures. This was our gift to our children.

THEO CARTER-WEBER ARTISAN PROFILE words byTheo Carter-Weber

I have always loved picking up pencils, crayons, paints and anything that helps to create a picture. Both my parents are artists and I was fortunate to be around creative and free thinking people from a baby. When I think back to some of my parents’ parties and their friends when I was young I chuckle - there were, and still are, some fabulously interesting characters.

where can I buy it and how?!’ I hadn’t a definite answer at that time and then a friend screamed ‘encouragement cards!’ It seemed a perfect way to share my work and I got a small batch printed. I have had some fantastic reactions since and I am so grateful that people like them and feel they wish to share them with their friends and loved ones. I have since teamed up with Place 2 Be (the UK’s leading childrens mental health charity) and I still think of myself as playing. At 33, I know I donate 50% of all profits I make from my cards some people feel their careers need to be defined to them. You can find them at www.place2be.org. but for me - I play. I am open to many different uk and they really do, do some magical work. routes that could help me to communicate to people. I feel my work has been picked up by I’m inspired by almost everything. I live in some children and has been classified as children’s Cornwall now and I don’t see how anyone could literature which is in many ways true, however not be inspired by the beautiful and breathtaking I never intentionally write for kids. I write and surroundings. illustrate the best way I know how, to attempt to carry the messages and stories I wish to tell and I am intrigued with people and believe everyone share. has stories and I am forever people-watching and asking for stories. I believe we are all part of the I have had some wonderful reactions to my work same thread, no matter how different we at times from children. There have been two nurseries in may appear. There are some things that simply the USA (LA and Texas) who have both run art make us human and we are all connected. classes in response to my work and having the children react to my illustrations and messages I work in a playful and inquisitive way and in and encouraged to create their own. When the truth it is because I am attempting to make sense teachers from the nurseries and schools send me of things that at times I struggle to understand. pictures of their kids’ works it fills me with pure Whether I find all the answers is of course joy and nothing can compare with the feeling that questionable. If I can enjoy the exploration and you have somehow helped a child to be creative, journey I feel I am succeeding. despite the distance from little Cornwall, UK to Los Angeles, USA! 2016 has been a wonderful year for me and my practice. I have a private view at my studio and The encouragement cards were in some ways filming for a channel 4 documentary (following accidental. I had been working on one-off my art and practice) taking place before illustrations for some time now and with little Christmas. I am also writing and illustrating intention other than to communicate and explore a collection of short stories that are likely to be ideas for future stories. Over time I had wonderful published in 2017. reactions from people all over the world asking me ‘what are you doing with all of your work? www.theocarterweber.co.uk

TIME FOR BED FASHION photography and styling by Rebecca Lindon

Henry, George and Charlie wear pyjamas by The Bright Company.

Pyjamas by Jo Jo Maman Bebe.

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Henry wears pyjamas by Snork and slippers by Mahabis.

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D E S I G N E D & M A D E I N T H E U. K

SEARCHING AND FINDING PERSONAL ESSAY words and photography by Dana Sirois

One morning I woke up laying in bed already thinking about a million things. It was the day before we entered into a new lunar cycle in Sagittarius; the zodiac sign of freedom and exploration on a quest for experience, truth, and perspective. Not aware about the new moon cycle I felt overwhelmed with emotions, uncertain if where I am at and where I am living is what I want, although I always dreamt to live that way and chose to be exactly there. I live with my husband and daughter, and about 30 animals on a farm in a sparsely populated area in Northern California. The next city is about an hour away. We are surrounded by beautiful mountains which are covered with pine and oak trees, and when the sun rises or sets, the light paints the most magnificent pictures in the sky. As there are no artificial light sources at night like in cities, it is so dark that the stars and the moon shine so bright they light the way. I never experienced the moon and the stars so close before. Almost close enough it seems like I can touch them with my hand. Recently the tops of the mountains are covered with snow and in the mornings, fog gently surrounds the mountains so only the tips poke out. It’s a very quiet life. The only sound we hear is the sound of animals, and on stormy days, the sound of the wind and the rain. It’s a very peaceful life. Our daughter can run wild and free outside, explore everything what nature has to offer, and experience the smell of fresh pinecones and needles which drop off the trees. We consciously chose to live here and moved from NYC, the city that never sleeps, to California so our daughter has the chance to grow up in nature and be a free-spirited soul. She also gets to know what it means to grow your own produce and tend to other living beings unlike in the concrete jungle of the city, where it can be hard to rest your mind and deal with yourself. Only 1 1/2 years old she is already a confident young lady who is more interested in animals, flowers, sticks and rocks than in toys. It is amazing to see how adventurous and connected to Mother Earth she is, whereas I had to relearn this connection since I was always living in cities. Traveling a lot and backpacking by myself gave me only a glimpse of what to expect in this life out in the woods where you need to take care of everything yourself. Besides all the beauty we are surrounded with, on that mentioned morning I felt loneliness and isolation as we don’t have any family or friends close by. Most days I don’t see anyone else other than my husband and daughter. I missed those days of meeting up with friends spontaneously and chatting for hours. So it can also be a lonely life from time to time.

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Recently I read a study released by Harvard Medical School that shows “..the more friends women have, the less likely they are to develop physical impairments as they age, and the more likely they are to lead a contented life. The study also showed that not having friends or confidants is as detrimental to your health as being overweight or smoking cigarettes. The researchers examined how well the women functioned after the death of a spouse, one of life’s greatest stressors. They found that even in the face of this major life loss, women with close friends with whom they can share their burdens fare better than women who lack close friendships.” Especially as a mother I developed an even bigger desire to keep in touch on a regular basis with my friends who live all over the world (I emigrated from Germany to the USA) and also to connect with like-minded people who share the same values about parenthood as I do. And as much I would prefer to have those interactions in person I am grateful for the technology which makes it possible to communicate with friends and family across the globe. It is so helpful in moments of loneliness where I am looking for communal support. I believe that raising a child is not only the responsibility of parents but also of the community, which is so influential. As parents we all need a supporting and encouraging community in times of vulnerability. Although those feelings and moments of loneliness make me question if it was right that we chose this abandoned, rural life, (I can barely focus on the other moments when I am grateful to live out here as one with nature, more self-sustainably than ever before) I think having this conversation with yourself helps you grow. Grow into a more conscious person who takes some time to deal with the negative and positive feelings which may arise from living out here. This overwhelming moment during the new moon when I asked myself “Will I ever be satisfied with what I have? Will I ever find a place of perfection where I can settle down? Where and what is home?” gave me also the opportunity to revisit my visions, to re-evaluate perspectives, and therefore to emerge into a broader view of life. Whilst I am sure I will probably not find exact answers to my questions, I do feel that I keep on growing my sense of my Self. My Self which will always be a seeker of the truth - but rather than looking for it outside I will go within and listen. And knowing that I am an active member of a loving community of friends and family, even if they are far away, helps me feel supported in times of loneliness and doubt.

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www.thebrightcompany.uk

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