Once, years ago, when I was teaching in Kansas City at a Hoity Toity Catholic Joint, we hired a speaker to come and motivate our students to stop bullying one another. I really can't remember who the guy was or what his schtick was, but I remember one thing: he told the students over and over again to "share, don't compare."

While I am not usually one for self-help gurus, overly simple "quotes of the day" or platitudes of any sort, that little phrase stuck with me. I suppose it was because I am just a little bit guilty of comparing. I mean, sometimes, I might, just for a second, look at someone else's house and compare it to my own. Or, maybe once or twice I have thought about someone else's fashion sense, or maybe I've just for a SPLIT SECOND considered how I rank as opposed to other mothers.

I mean, clearly, this is not a BIG problem for me. Clearly, I don't give a whit that EVERYONE I KNOW has a bigger, better house than I do, or that I've never owned a pair of Jimmy Choos, let alone a handbag that didn't come from either Target, a street vendor, or a thrift store. I'M NOT BITTER. I'm just saying, that once in a teeny weeny while, I might compare. Just a little. Not that often. Only in my weakest, darkest moments.

So I remember that little phrase from time to time, when I am starting to feel a little bit sorry for myself because I am realizing that I don't have anywhere to put my glorious kitchenaid mixer in my tiny kitchen, but I saw that old friend on Facebook yesterday, the one who is showing off pictures of her brand new McMansion. I remember that my street has mature trees, and I try to be happy. I remember that we are not all the same, and I should SHARE, NOT COMPARE.

I also try to recall this mantra when it comes to mothering. I had heard the horror stories before I ever got pregnant, the ones about how mommies are the most competitive bunch in the world, and will forever berate each other with stories about THE BEST daycares, the strollers they spent a college fund on, the honor roll, the wonderkind who spoke in sentences at nine months and read his first Harry Potter book at age four. But I didn't really believe them. I thought these were people who needed something to complain about, who (oh, how I love this phrase and the really nastiness of it) "didn't have a life." I mean, who really has time to care about the brand of baby sling your neighbor got? I didn't get it.

When I got pregnant, I vowed not to join ranks with the hater-mommies. I wasn't going to fall victim to the comparisons of womanhood attached to being THE BEST MOM EVER. I didn't care if anyone called me a "super-mom" - I just wanted to be a good mom in the best way I knew how, and I wanted everyone to leave me alone and stay out of my way.

I set out collecting secondhand baby gear, refurbished baby furniture, and hand-me-down baby clothes. I was so proud of myself, for being a budget mom and avoiding my competitive impluses, for being practical and savvy instead of trying to keep up with the elusive Joneses. (Really, I don't know any Joneses with whom to keep up.)

I squelched the impulses I had to harangue all my friends with older kids with questions like "When did YOUR baby sit up/crawl/walk/say her first word?" I didn't want to compare. I WANTED TO SHARE! So share, I did.

Every time some friend of mine got pregnant, I'd regale them with information about what baby gear to get where, and cheap. I'd freak out if someone suggested that a $40 pair of baby jeans they found online were cute. "WHY ARE YOU SHOWING ME THIS? My kid will never have $40 jeans! I don't have $40 jeans!" Oh, crap.

In my efforts to be the no-competition mom, I had inadvertently become just that. Rather than comparing myself with the moms who bought the fanciest gear, who flaunted their babies in Janie and Jack outfits and had the money to send them to every KinderMusic class in Lawrence, I'd become just as repulsive on the other end of the spectrum.

I was the woman who judges not because a parent isn't doing enough, but because they're doing TOO MUCH.

For crying out loud.

So after I gave myself a good talking to, put myself in time-out for thirty-seven minutes (BLISS!), and recovered my sanity, I started again, with new resolve.

I WILL SHARE, NOT COMPARE.

I will answer the questions of new moms and moms-to-be honestly and with my own experience, but they are NOT REQUIRED to take my advice. If a new mom wants to purchase a thousand dollar carseat and travel system, that is her prerogative. If she feels her baby is best served by having a team of round-the-clock nannies, by golly, she should do it.

I mean it, people. I am not here, anymore, to either beat myself up or beat up my fellow moms. I will not take secret offense when someone tells me that my idea of great childcare does not coincide with hers. I will not feel inferior when I talk to a stay-at-home mom and admit I have to go to work five days a week.

Today, my baby fell down and smacked his eye against a corner. He has a tiny little cut and his first shiner. I will not cower on the streets, hoping that the other moms won't judge me for being so reckless with his little head. I will let him wear his shiner with pride. I AM NOT PERFECT, and NEITHER ARE YOU.

However, I cannot promise that I will not secretly look at every baby I meet and say in my head, "Mine's cuter." Because he is. And I think that is a mother's right - to believe her child is the most beautiful one ever created.

I mean, seriously, have you seen him?

first birthday by meganstuke

Our baby, Johnny, has responded to music since a very young age. As a tiny infant, he'd quiet if I held him and sang softly. I purposely picked out a few favorite songs and lullabies to sing to him frequently, as I hoped he'd grow up associating those particular sounds with comfort, home, and safety.

As he grew and his body strengthened, I could see a physical response to music. If I turned on music on the television, he'd immediately turn his head to see where it was coming from. For awhile, he actually "directed" - by picking up a pop bead and waving his arms wildly every time he heard a sequence of notes. He tends to respond best to classical music, but really, he's not picky.

I've read that a lot of musical intelligence is fostered between birth and six years old, so I'm all about finding ways to encourage him to hear, play, and enjoy all different sorts of music. At age one, he's already familiar with our litany of favorite bedtime songs, and is completely infatuated with any toys that honk out a tune, annoying as they may be to his parents. For his birthday, he received a wooden toy drum, and has not let go of the mallet since he first picked it up. Drumming, it appears, is his favorite. Which does not bode well for my sanity in the next seventeen or so years.

Still, I'll encourage him any way I can. I'll put a shaker egg in his little hand, let him beat on pots and pans, try out different flavors of music wheneve we get a chance. I'm not a big fan of "kid music", and I sense that the complexity of grown up music - be it Johnny Cash or Johann Sebastian Bach - is good for his little developing brain. In fact, there is research to support the notion that listening to music in early life has a substantial effect on intelligence.

And music isn't just for the individual's own growth. It helps a family grow, too. My family tried its best to be musical, and my sister still plays a mean piano. My brother, now well over forty, can still play "Skating", which he learned in his one year of piano lessons at age six or seven. I, myself, took many years of piano, guitar, school band, and voice lessons. And my family, together, enjoyed this. We played music for holidays, went to one another's concerts, recitals, and shows. We learned from one another and formed many a familial memory in regard to the songs we shared.

My dream is for Johnny to grow up to play the stand-up bass. And yes, I know it's totally wrong to try to imprint my expectations on him. And yes, I'll probably do it anyway, despite my best efforts to be open to WHAT? THE FLUTE? or any other instrument he decides to conquer.

There is nothing like talking about daycare to make a new mom get itchy.

I mean, let's just put aside for a minute the overwhelming anxiety that new moms have when they go back to work. Let's not talk about the tremendous guilt we feel because for whatever reason (and there are many), we're going to have to put our babies in the hands of someone else for hours a day. I'm not here today to talk about the relative merits of staying home v working. That is a "to each his or her own" topic if there ever was one.

But, it's hard. If you are using daycare, you worry. (Heck, if you aren't using daycare, you worry.)

But then, once you've gotten your mind around the "Yes, we're going to have to find a daycare situation," drama, you have the "But what kind of daycare" drama.

Yesterday, I was talking to a pregnant friend of mine who expressed her concerns over needing to pin down daycare soon. She had a lot of things to think about as she sifted through her options.

The big issue, for many parents, is the staggering cost. The crippling, vomit-inducing price, which makes you extra sick because you're bound to think about the percentage of your paycheck that is going to daycare, and man, is it even worth it to keep your job? But some paycheck is better than none, and you need the insurance, and quitting just isn't an option.

So you start thinking about less expensive alternatives. And then you feel terrible because, you know, isn't your baby worth the BEST POSSIBLE care in town? And doesn't it stand to reason that if you pay more, you get more? Surely the pricey places are the best.

But then you feel sick again, because if you opt for the pricey place, you know you won't have enough money left over to save for a college fund or do extra things with your kiddo like a family vacation or music lessons.

And, really, is the pricey place the best? How do we know? I can say that the situation we have is by far less expensive than many of the daycares in town, but I feel like our baby gets amazing love and attention all day.

As with most parenting questions, the answer is to trust our instincts. Check out the various people and providers. Visit with other moms and dads. And then do what feels best to you, based on your experience and your guts.

I told my friend that I could give her the number of the person who takes care of Johnny three days a week, but she said she wasn't sure about a "home" situation. As an attorney, she'd seen too many horror stories about injuries and deaths in home daycares. She had a good point. Of course, I am more than confident that my baby's caregiver is just as careful or even moreso than I am, but how would my friend know that?

But there are drawbacks to the "regular" daycares, too. After talking with my friend yesterday, I went to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription and I ran into a woman who was in my birthing class with me a year ago. She is looking for a new daycare situation because her baby, who is happy and stimulated in her traditional daycare situation, gets sick all the time from the other kids. So this mom would prefer a home situation with just one or two other kids, if she can find it. Also a good point.

I am on the fence. For now, what we have is working for us. Our baby stays home with his grandma at our house two days a week, and goes to the home of a babysitter three days a week. He sees other kids and goes on outings with the sitter, gets his grandma's loving attention, and hopefully is going to be socially well-adjusted and well-rounded for his experience.

Still, I worry that maybe he needs more structure. Do we need a regular daycare so that I know he's getting a certain curriculum every day? Should I be concerned about nap schedules, education, and reading readiness at this early stage of the game?

There's no easy answer. Certainly what is right for my family and baby is not going to necessarily be right for another. My priorities, at least right now, are that my baby be loved and held and get lots of personal attention. That is more important to me than having snack time at precisely 10:00 every day. I mean, he's not quite one. He thinks a stacking cup makes a good hat.

Eventually, I might have to make a change. I'll continue to process and evaluate, and I think it's important never to become complacent where your kids' care is concerned. A change will probably be painful for everyone involved, and I'll lose sleep about it, like I do most of my big parenting decisions. But for now, all I can do is keep close track of my baby, and put him in the hands of trusted folks who will nurture him and help him grow, just like we do at home.

For anyone who needs information about daycares or help sorting out options, The Douglas County Child Development Association can help.

In just over a week, my baby, my infant, my little bundle of innocence, he who just arrived, what, yesterday? will turn one year old. Weird. I mean, yesterday I was seventeen. Today I'm thirty-seven. And my tiny infant whose birth just happened mere minutes ago is turning one.

Turning one is, of course, a Very Big Deal. It means he's going to get his first cake, and we'll let him have a little ice cream as a super special treat - milk intolerance be damned. He'll receive a shiny new red wagon (but don't tell him! It's a surprise!) and he'll get to swim in the pool and see all his favorite people.

It also means I get to make a cake that I like as opposed to the hideous Bob the Builder or Barney monstrosities I'll be forced to endure later in his life. And we'll have some official one year photos taken, and he'll get his one year vaccinations.

Oh, that's right, I said vaccinations.

Johnny has gotten all of his vaccinations, on the regular schedule, since the beginning of his life. Which was yesterday, right? Seems like it.

I am big on this. I am big on kids getting their regular vaccinations. That's right, I said it. This is not one of those issues where I'll just say "Oh, to each his own. What works for one family might not work for another," like I do on most issues. This is one issue on which I have an opinion, and it is a strong one.

Because if people don't vaccinate their kids? Not only does it put their kids at risk, it puts mine at risk. And, it turns out, there is no link between autism and the vaccines. In fact, the study that created the panic over the link has been officially retracted, as the results were falsified. So can we put that to rest already?

Most people hate taking their babies to the vaccine check-ups, but I don't. I mean, yes, I hate to see him cry when he's poked at, but I get all psyched about the vaccine itself. "SAFE!" I think to myself, after every round of shots. It's a relief. There are plenty of childhood injuries, viral infections, and challenges to avoid that we can't just vaccinate away. But whooping cough? Measles? Hepatitis B? Those, we can control. And, I'm a control freak. So I'm all over those vaccinations.

As the school year starts, it's time to think about those vaccinations. Are the kids in your child's class vaccinated? How will you know? This is not a problem I have to worry about yet, but it already makes my palms sweat.

But for now, I'll just look forward to our one-year check-up and the knowledge that my child is as medically safe as he can be. And, I'll look forward to cake.

Now that the kids are getting back to school, it is important to focus on healthy snacks to keep their energy up. Junk food gives your children a surge of energy, but then it quickly drops out and your kid is Mr. Whiney Pants for the rest of the evening.

This video from Lifetime.com has some helpful tips for adults on making healthy choices. Remember these portions she mentions are for an adult. A normal toddler only should eat half the adult portion since they only need 1000 cal/day as opposed to an average adult who requires 2000 cal/day.

While I admit that not every bite of food that passes my baby's lips is made in my own kitchen, I do try my best to keep things on hand that are nutritious and wholesome for him. Now that he's bigger, that's pretty easy. A little corkscrew pasta, all cut up, some raisins, a chopped up clementine, some bits of tofu, some halved blueberries, that sort of thing. I can just plop an array of things on his tray and he'll pick them up and eat them on his own. He's sort of "over" being spoon-fed. Still, there are some things I would like for him to eat that he can't quite manage on his own. I make applesauce from scratch, for example. I also do a spinach puree, and I try to keep some sweet potato puree in my freezer.

Making baby food, for an infant or a toddler, isn't really as hard as it might seem.

For example, I made some sweet potato puree for my little guy this weekend. It only took a few minutes, and one sweet potato produced enough for six or seven toddler-sized servings. It would feed an infant probably twice that many meals.

To make baby food, you do need some sort of food processing device. I happen to have an actual baby food processor, which makes things incredibly easy, but if you just use your stick blender or Cuisinart, you'll be fine too.

Sweet potatoes are full of vitamins, dietary fiber, and potassium, and they also make your baby feel nice and full, so I like to feed them to Johnny fairly often. Which is great, because they only cost about a buck apeice. You get a lot of bang for your baby food buck out of one sweet potato.

sweet potato and bowl by meganstuke

I just poke some holes in the potato with a fork, and microwave it for about six minutes, or until it feels soft to the touch.

Then slice it open, and scoop out the guts.

microwave for six minutes by meganstuke

Put the potato into your food processor bowl and add about two tablespoons of formula or breast milk to smooth it out. You can add more later if you think your baby needs a thinner, more runny consistency.

cooked sweet potato by meganstuke

pureeing sweet potatoes by meganstuke

Blend until smooth. That's it! No added salt or fats - just pure, healthy potato that tastes divine.

As with all my purees, I then freeze them in individual servings in an ice cube tray. Just fill the tray, cover with saran wrap, and freeze.

freeze in ice cube trays by meganstuke

When they're solid, you can pop them out of the tray (and reuse it for your next batch), and just store the cubes in a freezer bag.

store in freezer bag by meganstuke

When it's time to feed baby, just microwave one or two cubes for about twenty seconds. Be careful you don't overdo it - baby food just be room temp so as not to burn a little mouth.

toddler serving by meganstuke

warmed up puree by meganstuke

While I admit that not every bite of food that passes my baby's lips is made in my own kitchen, I do try my best to keep things on hand that are nutritious and wholesome for him. Now that he's bigger, that's pretty easy. A little corkscrew pasta, all cut up, some raisins, a chopped up clementine, some bits of tofu, some halved blueberries, that sort of thing. I can just plop an array of things on his tray and he'll pick them up and eat them on his own. He's sort of "over" being spoon-fed. Still, there are some things I would like for him to eat that he can't quite manage on his own. I make applesauce from scratch, for example. I also do a spinach puree, and I try to keep some sweet potato puree in my freezer.

Making baby food, for an infant or a toddler, isn't really as hard as it might seem.

For example, I made some sweet potato puree for my little guy this weekend. It only took a few minutes, and one sweet potato produced enough for six or seven toddler-sized servings. It would feed an infant probably twice that many meals.

To make baby food, you do need some sort of food processing device. I happen to have an actual baby food processor, which makes things incredibly easy, but if you just use your stick blender or Cuisinart, you'll be fine too.

Sweet potatoes are full of vitamins, dietary fiber, and potassium, and they also make your baby feel nice and full, so I like to feed them to Johnny fairly often. Which is great, because they only cost about a buck apeice. You get a lot of bang for your baby food buck out of one sweet potato.

sweet potato and bowl by meganstuke

I just poke some holes in the potato with a fork, and microwave it for about six minutes, or until it feels soft to the touch.

Then slice it open, and scoop out the guts.

microwave for six minutes by meganstuke

Put the potato into your food processor bowl and add about two tablespoons of formula or breast milk to smooth it out. You can add more later if you think your baby needs a thinner, more runny consistency.

cooked sweet potato by meganstuke

pureeing sweet potatoes by meganstuke

Blend until smooth. That's it! No added salt or fats - just pure, healthy potato that tastes divine.

As with all my purees, I then freeze them in individual servings in an ice cube tray. Just fill the tray, cover with saran wrap, and freeze.

freeze in ice cube trays by meganstuke

When they're solid, you can pop them out of the tray (and reuse it for your next batch), and just store the cubes in a freezer bag.

store in freezer bag by meganstuke

When it's time to feed baby, just microwave one or two cubes for about twenty seconds. Be careful you don't overdo it - baby food just be room temp so as not to burn a little mouth.

toddler serving by meganstuke

warmed up puree by meganstuke

I've gotten those email forwards from people over the years, the ones that wonder how those of us who were born in the 70's and before even survived. We didn't have car seats, or even seat belts. We didn't wear helmets when we rode our bikes, and every toy and household item did not come with a big disclaimer or warning label. We ate baby asprin for candy because they were just right there in the cabinet next to the juice glasses, and our parents used baby powder with abandon.

And while I am not an advocate of leaving kids loose in the car to toss about like a leaf, or giving kids chewable pharmaceuticals as snacks, there is a spirit of confusion behind those emails that I can understand.

We are safety obsessed.

Growing up, my siblings, friends, and I played outside. We were virtually kicked out of our houses until dinner time. We rode our bikes to our friends' houses, and we got dropped off at the pool and left there to swim for hours at a time, only supervised by the teenaged lifeguards who were busy swinging whistles around their first two fingers and slathering themselves in baby oil. We walked to and from school and carried our trombones with us, and after school we rode our bikes to the Wal Mart down the street to play video games for an hour or two in the vestibule. Without an adult representative.

I realize that life is different today. Our kids are exposed to drugs and violence at earlier and earlier ages. Our cars go faster and there are more distractions on the road, with cell phones and I Pods and the running commentary of Rush Limbaugh on the radio.

And I am all for taking measures to ensure kids are safe and healthy. Use the car seat, for crying out loud, and do it according the the letter of the law, and then some. Make your kid wear a bike helmet, and do your best to feed your children nutritional, organic food instead of a regular diet of McDonald's and Ho-Ho's.

But then, I say, let your kids outside! Our mothers put us out like pets, to play, communicate with the neighbors, and explore the back yards of the 'hood. We were better for it. Kids playing outside improves the quality of the neighborhood. It brings the adults together, includes the older residents, and generally brightens up the landscape. Not to mention the health benefits of playing tag in real life as opposed to Modern Warfare on the PS3.

The other night I was looking for a toy on the internet. We had procured this toy at a garage sale and I had no idea what it was called. I was also curious about its value if we were to resell it sometime in the future. It's a really cool toy. It is sort of an electronic thing that changes in complexity as your child grows and becomes more complex in his or her learning. We love it. Johnny loves it.

Turns out it has been recalled, because one of the red knobs sometimes breaks off. At first, I thought, "OH NO! I'm a terrible mother! I have let my baby play with this death machine for months! They're going to take me away."

Then I looked at the red knob. Even if it did break off, I'm not sure what would happen. It's rather large and sturdy plastic, and doesn't present a choking hazard, unless it burst into a million pieces, which I don't really see happening. Also, things break. I don't see getting rid of this toy because someday, it might break, however unlikely that breakage is. I mean, the knob could fall off of his dresser, or the button could come off of his shirt, but we're not getting rid of those things any time soon either.

And one more thing: what is with all the antibacterial wipes and cleaners and hand sanitizer? I guess I see its merit in the classroom, where there are 30 runny noses wallowing around the place. But in my house, we wash our hands. We wipe up messes, and we do the laundry. I do not "sanitize' every square inch of my house or my baby. I sense our immune systems need a certain amount of germ-presence to grow strong. Also, this seems obsessive compulsive and bordering on psychotic.

I cannot help but think our kids will be better-adjusted, more independent, socially skilled if we give them some freedom to roam. Parents who dither over the presence of baby powder on the changing table and the possibility of a sprained ankle from a game of tag football are contributing to their kids' sense of fearfulness about the world, and are creating kids who don't believe they can do anything for themselves, without Mommy or Daddy setting it up or approving. Helicopter parenting, I hope, is coming to an end. Somehow, to me, there is a correlation between a kid who is allowed to play independently and a kid who remembers to bring his pencil and book to class every day, and doesn't expect the teacher to provide everything. The ability to be self-reliant is nurtured, and teacher and parents who all but write the sentences for their kids aren't really doing anyone any favors.

I guess what I'm calling for is a return to reasonableness. We don't need to give our kids plastic laundry bags to play in, but we also don't need to bring them up in a place that could double as a sterile OR and never let them outside for fear of the unseen boogeyman.

And, I have to admit, I miss real parks, with teeter-totters and merry-go-rounds and jungle gyms to hang upside down from. They're probably dangerous, and it's probably a good thing they're gone. But boy, was it fun to be seven years old in 1980.

One thing I was sure, SURE I would do when I was pregnant was make my own baby food. I'm sort of into cooking, so I figured it would be a total snap to whip up culinary masterpieces to tempt my baby's palette. I wanted him to grow up appreciating good food, with a wide repertoire of things he would eat. Also, I thought it would be much healthier and more pure than anything I could buy in a carton or jar.

Here's the reality. We do the jars. A lot more than I ever would have hoped to.

There are some things I still make from scratch. I make a mean applesauce and freeze it in individual cubes. I pureed a whole baking pumpkin so we'll have those cubes for surviving during the apocolypse, it made so many. I've steamed and pureed carrots, sweet potatoes, and spinach. But feeding him strictly food made by my loving hand proved trickier than I anticipated.

For starters, I'm busy. I work full time and I cook at least one meal a day for my husband and myself, and if I'm honest, I just don't have it in me to plan something to puree for baby on a regular basis on top of my other household chores.

Also, my baby goes to the sitter three days a week. I can't really be dragging frozen food-cubes over to her. And there's eating out, and travelling. Frozen food cubes don't travel well. Jars do.

The other thing I have noticed is that I can actually offer my baby a better variety of things if I feed him some pre-made baby foods. I couldn't really puree peas or green beans for him when he was tiny and needed smooth foods. They have skins that I wasn't sure would ever smooth out like the peas in the plastic tubs that Gerber makes do.

Now that he's bigger, it's easier. We can usually give him some bits of what we're having, and I keep things on hand that he can pick up on his own. I can cut up a banana or offer him some noodles or frozen peas (he loves them when he's teething). He can eat a blueberry or a cracker or some smooshed up beans. But sometimes I still revert to the Gerber toddler food, because I worry about protein. Somehow, the meat (can we really be sure it's meat?) in those toddler meals is palettable to him, but if I give him a bite of turkey he chokes and gags and acts like he can't swallow it - no matter how small I chop it up.

Yeah, those Gerber people do sort of know what they are doing.

Gerber makes "organic" products and while I'm not completely sure what that means, it makes me feel a little better about what I'm giving Johnny, if I'm not going to be able to give him something I bought at the farmer's market for every meal.

Letting go of the "only homemade food" ideal was hard for me, but it falls under the category of "Things I Do To Survive." My advice to moms everywhere, my mantra, really, is this: GIVE YOURSELF A BREAK.

We can't be super-mom every minute. We can't work, keep perfect houses, be playing developmental games with our children, cooking three different organic meals from scratch, recycling, hanging the laundry out to dry, and wearing heels and pearls all the while. Some things, sometimes, have to give. And guess what. Your children? They'll survive. They'll even flourish.

And they'll be happy, growing up with a mom who knows how to prioritize, and hasn't worked herself into a padded cell.

So to the people at Gerber? I say a hearty "Thank you." You're a real winner, in a pinch.

I am really excited to start the Healthy Kids! group. Being a stay-at-home pediatric RN and humor writer is challenging, but I have two of the best preschool girls who keep me hopping and laughing all day.

I love to meet other parents who are struggling with the same parenting issues. Not that misery loves company, but...misery LOVES company! Especially, if you are a parent of children younger than kindergarten, parenthood can be lonely job and many of us feel we don't have others to share our joys, pains and laughs with. Let me tell ya boys and girls...THIS is the place to do it!

So do any of you have any parenting or kid's health questions or stories to share. I can't wait to meet you all!

Stacey (Warner) Hatton, RN LHS '86