Hiking with Tots: A Trip to Tortola's Sage Mountain

I'm of the belief that the natural world is a child's greatest playground, which is why you will find me outside with our kids as much as possible. Maria Montessori - founder of the renowned Montessori method of education - once said, "A child, more than anyone else, is a spontaneous observer of nature" and watching the wheels start turning when a little kid discovers a mud puddle or a giant leaf or a lizard on a branch is proof positive of this fact. There simply is no replacement for the natural world and the benefits of simply being in nature are vast. We are fortunate to live in an environment and community very conducive to outdoor play, and it just so happens that we also have a pretty beautiful National Park, Sage Mountain, just up the road. 

Scott, always more ambitious in his outings with our daughters, took all three for their first hiking experience at Sage Mountain a few weeks ago. On their own tiny legs, our trio hiked all the way to the top, and despite the fact that the hike is by no means 'difficult', we still found this impressive for an almost four year old and a pair of two year olds to accomplish with little protest. After that successful excursion, we have returned as a family two more times in the last two weeks, it's an easy way to kill a couple of hours where the kids are using their bodies and exploring in nature. Win/win all around.

Arriving at the gate of the park you are struck with two interesting sensations that are distinct deviations from those which we experience at sea level; the first is the smell. The magnificent perfume of damp earth, fallen leaves and wet moss fills the air. "Mmm....it smells so good mommy" exclaimed Isla when we stepped out of the car. It's distinct earthiness is both refreshing and energizing. The second sensation, is the temperature. The canopy of trees and foliage envelops you in it's mottled cocoon, taking you in completely. The almost impenetrable shade creates a damp coolness which is a welcome change from the wonderful, but unforgiving, tropical sun.

There are several trails you can take around the park, we opt to drive to the base and follow the well marked trails to the "highest point in the BVI". The hike can be a meandering stroll or a vigorous walk, it's up to you. There is a little restaurant at the base and the proprietor will give you a (rudimentary) map and help point you in the right direction. The paths are obvious, and while the girls and I - along with my sister - did manage to get a bit lost on our most recent excursion (were we supposed to go left or right at the fork?), it's a small enough hill that retracing your steps back to square one isn't too hard. It's all part of the adventure, and it's always an adventure with little tykes in tow.

The panoramas from the top are, of course, incredible. Vast azure water with islands dotting the horizon everywhere you look. It's peaceful and serene at the top, and with the cool forest air kissing your shoulders it's impossible not to have a feeling of calm as you take it all in. All is right in the world. Quintessential paradise. The place where the sea meets the sky. Where the forest greets the shore. Where the shade gives way to the sun. Nature at it's absolute finest. 

Mira and my mom learning about Sage at the base of the main trail.

Isla is our family "champion" hiker. Never complains, never falters. Just keeps putting one foot in front of the other.

Puddles are Mira's absolute FAVORITE. What kid doesn't love a good mud puddle? And who are we to deny them?

Checking out the unique "skeleton" of a giant leaf in the final stage of decomposition.

Grandpa and Mira

Beautiful. The light, the lush foliage, the circle of life.

Isla found this little fruit/flower. She's got the eyes of a Serengeti tracker.

Isla leading the way, and Haven found a friend to walk with for a moment.

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep" -Frost

The beauty is in the details.

This child will climb anything and everything. The world is her playground!

Grandpa and Haven. 

We bring along snacks, in this case dried mango, to munch along the way. Snacks are key when hiking with tots!

My flaxen haired wild child.

Anyone else a fan of "The Lorax?" This reminds Isla and I of a Truffala Tree!

This happy little sprite loves to hike, climb and explore. Our girls are monkey's!

One of the many incredible views from the top. 

When You Don't Feel Like Enough: Pitfalls in Parenting

"My wife was so impressed with you and your kids, she wondered if maybe we yell too much at ours. Yours were so well behaved and you were so relaxed." I had just grabbed a beer at the beach bar and didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the comment from our new (temporary) boat neighbor who had witnessed my bathtime/dinnertime/bedtime routine a couple hours earlier with his wife. "THANK YOU." I exclaimed as I thew my arms around him in an over-zealous burst of gratitude. "You have NO idea how much that means to me!" I took a swig of my beer. "I assure you," I continued. "If you would have been aboard last week, your wife would have been saying exactly the opposite." We all had a good chuckle over this and they continued admonishing me with praise for my calm demeanor, our well-behaved girls, our quiet boat... The kudos felt great of course, but what made me feel like singing from the mountaintops while slow-spinning was the fact that there was a moment in time when another mother (of four, no less!) looked at me and thought that I. Had it. Together. 

Because - for the record - I do not. (Have we forgotten the time the cops were called on me?)

I have been that mom before. The mom silently watching another; wondering why her kids are so well behaved when mine are crazy, or how it's possible she looks so put together when I can barely manage to brush my teeth, or how she disciplines without ever seeming to yell when I feel very much 'on the verge', or how she cooks great meals with wholesome ingredients when my kids live off mac-n-cheese and chicken nuggets... I've been that mom who has quietly measured myself against another and feels that I am, for sure, falling short. Don't get me wrong, I have my good days too - lots of them in fact - but I have three toddlers under four and roll solo most of the time which means I am often pushed to my limits of sleep, tolerance, patience, energy, time... So when it became clear that I was the mom being watched and that my kids were the ones being admired for good behavior, well, it made me want to do a 'happy dance' because that's a sort of unicorn moment in parenting right there. It also made me think, though, that maybe the moms I have admired before: the ones who's kids are angels, the one who looks like she stepped off a movie set at 10am, and/or the mother who feeds her kids organic home-cooked everything - maybe she, too, shines in some moments and tarnishes in others. Maybe we're all more similar than I thought. Maybe it just depends on when, where, and how you catch us.

For example, just three nights prior to this man's very timely confession to me, I had Googled the following while laying awake in bed at 2am: "Am I screwing up my kids?" (Not completely) "Are my kids normal?" (Yes) "Is hitting common with three siblings close in age?" (Yes) "Why is my two year old so loud?" (She's "spirited") "How can I stop my kids screaming?" (!?!?) and, finally, "Am I a terrible parent?" (No). Suffice it to say, I was having a rough day for a host of reasons. Hot tears ran down my cheeks as I silently sobbed under the eerie spotlight of my iPhone. I was tired. I was overwhelmed. I felt like a failure. And I wanted answers. The day or two leading up to these tell-tale searches were chalk full of tantrums, fits, fights, screaming, hitting, back-talk, biting, tears, attitude, and whining. And that was just the girls. Me? I was doing an alarming amount of "clenched teeth talking", yelling, loosing my s***, and a few times, I even burst into tears right along with them. I was stressed. My kids were stressed. We were feeding off each other and it was positively monstrous. I was 100% certain I was a failure.

Luckily most days I don't feel like a "failure" but there are many days when I don't feel like enough. When I feel like I've dropped the ball and fallen short in areas. Most days my tank is empty by nightfall: I don't have enough time to do the things I love like writing and photography. I don't have the drive to answer the mountain of email in my neglected inbox. I lack the initiative (and the quiet time) to call the people I love and have meaningful conversations with them. I have zero energy to engage with my husband when he comes home from work. To cook food. To run errands. To market myself. To respond to inquires. To help with our business. To shower...the list goes on. Some days, I feel like I'm on autopilot, going through the motions, a shell of myself and who I want to be. And those days suck. BUT... the beauty (and one of the many gifts) of being a parent (because being a parent is an incredible gift, don't get me wrong) is that life goes on and each day is another to begin anew. After the "weekend from hell", the girls and I re-calibrated. I altered my routine. Avoided situations that caused me stress. We (Isla and I) talked about our issues. Apologized for mistakes. Hugged tears away. The demons that seemed to posses our boat jumped ship. Things got better. Much, much better. 

And I was lucky enough to have someone bear witness to it. 

The fact that a fellow parent got the impression that I had it "together" and that my kids were "great" and that I was doing something right, almost made my cry with joy because a lot of the time I'm all, "What the f*** is happening!?!" and that kind of recognition feels really, really good. But more importantly, their acknowledgment made me realize that the next time I look longingly at another mother who appears to have it all together, maybe just maybe, she doesn't. And that is totally okay. And very refreshing.

So next time you see a mom with her kids sitting quietly at a restaurant, or playing nicely at the park, or - hell - next time you see a mom doing anything that qualifies as being "good" or even "okay" in your book, go ahead and tell her. You might just make her week. You might just make her feel like enough.

The Importance of Getting off the Dock and out of my Comfort Zone

I had no idea how much I missed floating free on the water. Getting "off the dock" is a phrase anyone who owns a boat is familiar with. The dock, with all it's amenities, conveniences and plusses, comes with a host of negatives - not the least of which is tethering your boat to shore. When you are "on the dock" you are, presumably, not "out there" (insert outstretched arms indicating the great wide open). So, when Scott got three day's off in a row and asked if I wanted to sail over to Norman Island and anchor out for the night, I cannot even believe I thought twice.

Turns out, I had no idea what I needed.

When you live on a boat in a marina, particularly with toddlers, sometimes anything that requires a little more of your already depleted energy (like untying dock lines, prepping the boat for sailing, and related things) seems like too much. I mean, we're so happy here. We have a little routine, the girls have fun every day...Why did we need to leave? "Umm....I don't know...." I answered lazily when Scott posed the question of a day sail. "Seems like it would be a lot of work for just one night out?" I added in a sort of question/statement. Scott is familiar with this not-so-great side of me. The side that, instead of leaping in head first with an excited, "Sure!" sits back and thinks about all the 'what if's'; making a list of reasons why 'xyz' is actually not a good idea. It's not one of my better traits. I could totally justify my line of thinking: Why rock the boat when we were so comfy and happy right where we were? No sooner had I had that thought when it dawned on me that this was precisely why we needed to go. Because - and pardon the cliche - life happens outside the comfort zone. If I've learned anything, I've learned that.

"Let's go" Scott said.

Pushing my reluctance aside once and for all I replied with a firm, "Okay."

***

It was a perfect sailing day, as it so often is down here. The breeze was fresh, the waves gentle, and the sun beaming. I cannot adequately explain how or why it happens, but anyone who loves sailing knows the feeling: once we raised the sails and shut off the engine, I felt my heart and soul lighten. Being out on the water, sailing with my girls in this incredible paradise we are so lucky to call 'home' just about made me burst with gratitude. Isla took her spot on the bow, standing quietly and keeping watch. She has always been an old soul and sailing with her is a pleasure, she just takes it all in as she gazes at the water in silence, looking for turtles and dolphins and anything else that might catch her imagination. I took my seat next to her on the cabin top; wind ripping through my hair, sun warming up my skin and thought to myself, "this is bliss". I turned around to Scott who was driving. "Thank you," I said. "I totally needed this." He smiled, the twins seated contentedly next to him snacking on popcorn. We had a near-perfect sail with all the girls happily awake, enjoying the scenery and sitting on deck with me, giggling and waving to boats on the horizon.

We grabbed a mooring ball at the Bight at Norman Island, put the girls down for a nap, and I came back on deck to take in our surroundings. It was, literally and metaphorically, a breath of fresh air. Being surrounded by water instead of other boats and docks was bliss. Just as catching the wind in your sails does something to lighten your soul, so does simply floating peacefully at anchor. The world is quieter. The boat feels bigger. Your senses perk up. You breathe a little easier. It is instantly soothing and relaxing and creates a sort of paradigm shift in the mind where you feel incredibly free. Scott got to doing a few boat chores before laying down for a nap, while I grabbed my book and basked in the cockpit. It felt positively wonderful to be in the breeze, something that is sorely lacking on our buttoned-up boat in the marina. At the dock we spend precious little time in our beloved cockpit. For one, it's so hot and secondly, being so close to our neighbors makes relaxing in the cockpit slightly awkward. At anchor? Different story. Our cockpit is our living room and I absolutely love it. I pushed open all our hatches, unzipped our dodger window, and aired out the boat with sunshine and fresh breeze.

The girls woke up from their naps and played happily on deck. Scott and Isla inflated our Airis Paddle Boards and we loaded the kids up - me with the twins, Scott with Isla - and paddled ashore to the beautiful beach. Sadly, we don't have any photos of this excursion because I didn't want to take my good camera on the paddle board, but we rowed to the beach where the girls played happily in the sand and Scott and I enjoyed some afternoon cocktails. We met up with some blog followers and island friends that work on Norman, lingering beach side until the sun started slipping down the horizon and it was time to head home for dinner and bed.

***

The next morning, the girls were up with the sun and ready to play on deck again. Giggles, squeals of joy and belly laughs ensued and, again, I thanked Scott for pushing me outside my comfort zone. Work was calling, however, and after a morning paddle and beach excursion, we needed to set our sails for home. We sailed back in a building breeze; grateful, rested and rejuvenated from our 'mini-vacation' off the dock. I didn't know it at the time, but I needed that little time away so very badly. It would have been so easy for me to convince Scott to stay back and pass on this opportunity. And it would have been fine. We would have had a nice day. We would have had fun. But it would not have re-charged my batteries, filled me to the brim with gratitude, and inspired me quite like our trip to Norman did. Nope. Getting out of my comfort zone was imperative and refreshing. It's a lesson that I, no doubt, will have to learn over and over again, but next time I won't need nearly as much convincing. I am sure of that.

“Comfort is your biggest trap and coming out of comfort zone your biggest challenge.” 

- Manoj Arora

Isla took her spot here and sat here for the entire 1.5 hour sail over.

Luckily it was calm enough that the girls could explore on deck underway.

Me and my girls. Mira was not thrilled at this point, but you can't win em all, right?

Pouty face.

Isla and Haven sat up here most of the way.

Sailing sisters.

Sisters, sharing a secret and a giggle, as they should.

We're working a lot on sharing these days. I was happy to catch this moment.

View from the aft deck.

Mira, our little steadfast observer.

My happy little wild haired Fraggle.

Sailing = snacking.

Daddy and Mira

Always polishing. It's impossible to stay on top of. Sigh.

Paddle board time!

Mira, testing out her balance.

The girls are SO happy climbing and playing on deck.

Daddy kisses

Our little peanut.

Watching these two interact is amazing. Being a mom to twins is definitely a gift.

All three of our little treasures!! This was unposed - they just did this on their own. Love.

If you were wondering if our kids had any personality...

Happy and free.

Her favorite spot to climb up to.

Sunrise exploration.

Good morning sun!

Sailing home. Thoughtful and contemplative.

Haven, driving with daddy.

All these photos are taken with my Canon EOS Rebel T5 EF-S 18-55mm IS II Digital SLR with the Canon EF 50mm f/1.8 STM Lens (50mm) or Canon EF-S 10-18mm f/4.5-5.6 IS STM Lens (wide angle) lenses. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed taking them!