tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19938759123253568872024-02-02T02:13:20.981-08:00AZ Mom of Many Hats With all the hats I juggle one's bound to fall. I just pick it up, dust it off and put it back on....Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.comBlogger188125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-72858696191717087122014-11-12T09:41:00.002-08:002014-11-12T09:49:28.420-08:00Crazy Little Thing Called Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJa9ST99S4ZnZxw6CdTdZvaz3zhUYsBwhT_vH9Og_sw6wIwIwRmkfPhvA4R6R5SY88zpIdhlW9x9mEf6IX5QEf39fUeUQQAoQGwMb3P2xnrc6OFEqmw9T2wTevsi8dW_LztUQDkihjX9ek/s1600/IMG_9417.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJa9ST99S4ZnZxw6CdTdZvaz3zhUYsBwhT_vH9Og_sw6wIwIwRmkfPhvA4R6R5SY88zpIdhlW9x9mEf6IX5QEf39fUeUQQAoQGwMb3P2xnrc6OFEqmw9T2wTevsi8dW_LztUQDkihjX9ek/s320/IMG_9417.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><i>Life really is a crazy thing. </i></b><br />
<br />
The last couple of years has brought about so many changes, realizations and experiences. From the loss of my sister, to the opening of my coaching and speaking business (<a href="http://www.womanupmovement.com/">Woman UP</a>), to the launching of kids into the world, to the transitions of my own aging... each new thing has brought a new realization. <br />
<br />
Today, on the anniversary of my sister's passing - who was the same age I am now, I am feeling reflective about the things that I have learned about life. So, bear with me, humor me, or reflect with me while I share. <br />
<br />
<b><i>What 45 years has taught me about life: </i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>It takes you on twists and turns that seldom fit into your plan. </li>
<li>It brings you joys and challenges that you would never expect. </li>
<li>It is painful in ways that break you down, but also in ways that allow you to be rebuilt stronger.</li>
<li>It provides opportunity for joy and service - IF you open your heart to those opportunities. </li>
<li>It is intrusive when you choose to let it happen TO you, but a bit more polite when YOU happen to it. </li>
<li>It is both happy and sad. </li>
<li>It doesn't happen solely on the mountaintops or in the depths - it happens mostly at the horizon. </li>
<li>It provides you with what you need, and what you don't. </li>
<li>It is mixed up, but so ordered at the same time. </li>
<li>It's full of colors blended in every way possible, but also starkly black and white. </li>
<li>It rolls on whether we want it to or not. </li>
<li>It is turned upside down, but always rights itself. </li>
<li>It is either suffocating or liberating - depending on what we CHOOSE it to be. </li>
<li>It is individual to each of us, yet so dependent upon others. </li>
<li>It brings and it takes. </li>
<li>It WILL bring moments, events, and experiences that you will never understand.</li>
<li>It will bring you wisdom if you listen to it. </li>
<li>It is unexpected but expectant of us. </li>
<li>It resists being controlled, yet requires us to take control.</li>
<li>It has its own balance - regardless of how we try to define it. </li>
<li>It runs in a time structure that is known only to it - and no matter how hard we try to schedule it, it doesn't change its structure. </li>
<li>It shows us, ultimately the things that are important. </li>
<li>It craves being cherished. </li>
<li>It despises being wasted. </li>
<li>It wants to be stamped with our unique marks and purpose. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
Ultimately, what what this list shows me is that "existing" is easy. - that's just a matter of showing up and breathing. BUT LIVING.... LIFE... it's complicated, it's messy, it's joyful, it's painful, it's necessary, and it's worth it. We can take charge of it, but we can't always control it. That's OK. We just need to honor it by bringing our best to it. Life really is a crazy thing.<br />
<br />
Are you honoring life by bringing your best to it?<br />
<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-68374841661421974932014-06-07T14:59:00.001-07:002014-06-07T14:59:19.294-07:00Launching Planets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSxEDWyZDzSu3ecfoZTTdgkYzyzyrYxlDpUN9oTyfivMAQDKe7THR65I8NMOfZkFLK7z8mloJgSrXDzBHn7M9uWlW-SQEi_16eOCVn7BsWmk7lPtvKHrcs6FP27lMVJel83KygZtKmZLD/s1600/launching+planets+graphic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVSxEDWyZDzSu3ecfoZTTdgkYzyzyrYxlDpUN9oTyfivMAQDKe7THR65I8NMOfZkFLK7z8mloJgSrXDzBHn7M9uWlW-SQEi_16eOCVn7BsWmk7lPtvKHrcs6FP27lMVJel83KygZtKmZLD/s1600/launching+planets+graphic.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
Today I dropped my youngest child off to take her SAT tests. <br />
<br />
You'd think that after having gone through this two other times, having a child in her mid 20's and out of college, and another that's almost 20 and halfway through college, I'd be a pro at this whole letting them go thing. Truth be told, it was pretty easy with the first two... not that I wanted to let them go, but I guess there was a bit of knowing that I still had time before they were all gone. But today, when I dropped off my baby for the test, I actually welled up.<br />
<br />
Now I'm not saying that I will be totally lost in my empty nesting years. I will miss having my house filled with the giggly laughter, the excitement of boyfriends and dances and girl time, and yes even the hormonal tension and fighting that happens when the three teen girls and their mother occupy the same space. But I am looking forward to knowing and growing me, and knowing and growing my husband and I as a couple again.<br />
<br />
As much as I know there is before me, I will miss what is in the chapter behind me. Motherhood (as is fatherhood) was a time of me growing, teaching and guiding my children into being productive, independent and contributing members of society. That was my job - to parent them and to let them go into the world. It is an awesome responsibility, but also an awesome privilege and time of learning for me.<br />
<br />
It's funny, how when we are awaiting their arrival into the world, they are our sun. We are like a planet that's orbit - our time, space, effort, and life revolve around the day the sun born. Then the moment they are born, we become one as they depend on every thing from us, and us from them. Slowly they gain independence and start breaking away, often in fiery fashion, like the solar flares and explosions. As time moves forward and we do our job, the separation process cools down. We equip them to be whole and complete in the world, able to sustain life, support living, and be abundant. And when the planet is complete, we become more like the moon, being a shining spot bringing them light, but letting them find a new sun to shine on them.<br />
<br />
As I was driving away and welling up, I felt the honor, the privilege, the learning experience, and the joy it is to have raised my babies. I am not perfect in my job as parent. No one is. But I have done a pretty good job at bringing up three independent, self sufficient, and good people - planets... I realized that my job as parent, was launching planets. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-57823329876296059332014-05-26T08:10:00.001-07:002014-05-26T08:26:14.925-07:00Memorial Day 2014<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipjpM6pd5Nfve-znhdSL-hNdafg9m-nwL4kXcxkMN6ghu6AK0Ecg2F7NfJfaIAg4qOWEgyxpfMTCoIzYFWl8oxCBcrAk0-8QxALNZ3zbyGpuxQwilWk0URTD0RJWqyOBPidSIQIFXTHhQe/s1600/memorial+day+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipjpM6pd5Nfve-znhdSL-hNdafg9m-nwL4kXcxkMN6ghu6AK0Ecg2F7NfJfaIAg4qOWEgyxpfMTCoIzYFWl8oxCBcrAk0-8QxALNZ3zbyGpuxQwilWk0URTD0RJWqyOBPidSIQIFXTHhQe/s320/memorial+day+photo.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">A Memorial Day Walk<br />
Photo By Rebekah Mozilo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The AZ Mom of Many Hats Blog has been quiet for a while. I have not abandoned it, but I have slowed down posting a bit as I have been making some life changes - professional certifications, opening my coaching and speaking business - <a href="http://www.womanupmovement.com/">Woman Up Movement</a>, and launching my children into the world as self sufficient and good human beings. <br />
<br />
As I sit here this morning, it strikes me that it is in this great country, where my family has a long history and commitment to freedom - dating back to the Mayflower and The American Revolution, that I have the opportunity to discover, rediscover, live out my passions and purpose, raise my children in faith of my choice, speak the words of my heart with freedom, and the freedom to work in a field of my choice and reap the benefits of my hard work. <br />
<br />
On this day, I am so eternally grateful to those who lived and died in service, so that today, May 26, 2014, that my children and I would be able to live our lives in freedom. The post below, holds special meaning to me in that it is a shared experience with one of my daughters. It also holds special meaning in what each person gave to defend the rights and freedoms of all who call the USA home.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>A Memorial Day Walk</b><br />
<br />
Not long ago, I took my daughter to the Veterans Cemetery in our town. She is an avid and very talented photographer and was drawn to the emotion, the landscape, and the composition of the cemetery. As a tribute to those that served in the military and our country, she wanted to capture a respectful and beautiful image of what is often remembered as a dark and sad place.<br />
<br />
The Cemetery is along a major road that we travel often so we catch a glimpse of it regularly. But when on days when there is a national celebration of Veterans and Service Persons, or on days when another is committed back to the earth after a life of service or a sacrifice in service, it is even more noticeable. On those days, the land is peppered with the colors that represent the freedoms we have in the United States. The usually brown and grey desert landscape is brightened by the Red White and Blue.<br />
<br />
Service support groups lovingly and patiently place a flag at each headstone at the cemetery. I thought of that loving service that they provided as we walked through the rows of headstones on the day I took my daughter to capture the images. What a wonderful tribute and show of appreciation on the part of the organizations so dedicated to making sure our service members have the colors they served adorn their resting places.<br />
<br />
But, as we we walked through the headstones and eventually parted directions, my focus shifted as I began reading the epitaphs.<br />
<br />
I saw the awards, medals, and commendations by those that lay beneath. The dates etched in the stones so clearly defined the moments in history that they walked the earth, served their country, and fought for our freedoms. The realizations that some had long life and others only a brief walk on this earthly home sat on my heart as I could only try to feel the sacrifice that not only they, but their families gave so I had the freedom to live my life in the way that I wanted to. Whether they had a good and successful life outside of service or struggled upon coming back to the life that so many of us take for granted, each of them in their time was a hero.<br />
<br />
My daughter and I met up again and gazed at the rows of seemingly unending flags surrounding us. We spoke in quiet respect about the gratitude an bravery of the men and women that we briefly came to know through the stories on their headstones. Somber words of what the service personnel and their families endured as they were separated for long periods of time, and for some through the loss of their loved one were choked back. We were both moved - me in internal emotion, her in creative emotion through her photographs. We both left the cemetery that day with our hearts full of thanks to every man and woman that has served in person or has served in supporting their loved one in service to others. We were both changed.<br />
<br />
To every woman and man that has, is or will ever serve this great country, THANK YOU! And to every family that is home waiting for their loved one who is serving, THANK YOU! Each one of us that calls the U.S. home is indebted to you for giving of yourself and your loved ones, so that we have the choices and freedoms that allow us the opportunity to live a good and free life.<br />
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Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-75116016700613820292014-01-17T09:29:00.001-08:002014-01-17T09:29:35.912-08:00The Truth About Will Power! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0U3N4CA1OB8johj8Y6QhgivCQvQIbMAoYhNT5O-fYQ1b6G9fuD2c_Xlm9P-3vuzArMmxn50djKH3imWHh8Mt9zLv4Fb03JFF341-VZv9fqIP3A0IotX_CYSwEg2kmhoWAb5P25q5phpDX/s1600/Dont+short+change+yourself.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0U3N4CA1OB8johj8Y6QhgivCQvQIbMAoYhNT5O-fYQ1b6G9fuD2c_Xlm9P-3vuzArMmxn50djKH3imWHh8Mt9zLv4Fb03JFF341-VZv9fqIP3A0IotX_CYSwEg2kmhoWAb5P25q5phpDX/s1600/Dont+short+change+yourself.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
"I can't seem to get started. "<br />
"Being healthy is hard. It takes too much work."<br />
"I tried it once, and I just can't seem to stick to it. I don't have the will power!"<br />
<br />
I hate the term "will power". It's a term that always has a <i>have</i> or <i>don't have</i> attached to it. If someone tries to make a change and doesn't the reason is that they don't have will power. If someone accomplishes a tough goal that requires sustained effort and change, it is credited to the fact that they do have will power. Will power becomes a trait of the haves and the have nots.<br />
<br />
THE TRUTH IS...<br />
<br />
Everyone has will power.<br />
<br />
Every day, you make voluntary decisions (not the involuntary decisions like breathing and blinking) based on will. Albeit the process of decision making can be very quick and very subconscious, you still make decisions - you exercise your will. You have power to exercise your will - or, will power.<br />
<br />
You know that cookie in the cupboard that is calling your name? That is will power. If you know it is something you should not have but have it anyway, your will powered you to partake, not to abstain. If you abstain, your will powered you to walk away rather than partake. Will power can be positive and move you towards where you want to be. Will power can be negative and keep you away or move you further away from where you want to be. The difference in the direction will power takes you is choice.<br />
<br />
WOMAN UP! You ALWAYS have choice. Own the choice. Account for the choice. Manage the choice.<br />
<br />
If you say you have no choice, you are not owning the power of your free will and you are fooling yourself. If you say there is NOTHING you can do to move you toward the positive side of will power, you are not taking accountability for your exercise of choice. If you say that this is just the way it is and you just have to live with the negative side of will, you are making excuses - you are not managing the power or choice that you've been given.<br />
<br />
Even if you can't choose to step into the positive side of will power in the blink of an eye, you can own your choice and will power, and choose to move in small increments toward that direction-seek out help and information, or a support group. Be accountable for your will power and choice by changing an attitude about your will, realizing that it is not responsible for you, you are responsible for you. Manage your will and change in a way that is sustainable by making one small change at a time, or by looking for things you are already doing or are capable of doing that will move you toward your goals. Each thing you do to change direction moves you one step closer to the goal line. Each thing you do powers your will toward your goal rather than away from it.<br />
<br />
With all of that being said, realize that if at times your choices in your will don't move you in the positive direction, it does not mean you have failed. It means you are human! But also realize that if you tend to not be making overall progress in the positive direction, you need to step back and reassess. You are the ONLY one accountable for your will power. Don't permanently give that part of your personal power away to anything.<br />
<br />
Your will is amazingly powerful. Steward it in the right direction.Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-48961724642171970202013-10-02T14:04:00.001-07:002013-10-03T09:56:43.837-07:00I Hate Pink Ribbons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC84_HCZGYb8V1vqw69DnIwZO3Z9vd2P7pmURcbhOE-MhLf2a-tcneTU6ETidEnWH9MpsUG1P_iqrGJ99p2RYUgSzn3iJK76fUVotiNpAZTbBFf0y0aTBhFOYoVQv8WNDQImJXJYXI_vXc/s1600/sister+check+with+credit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC84_HCZGYb8V1vqw69DnIwZO3Z9vd2P7pmURcbhOE-MhLf2a-tcneTU6ETidEnWH9MpsUG1P_iqrGJ99p2RYUgSzn3iJK76fUVotiNpAZTbBFf0y0aTBhFOYoVQv8WNDQImJXJYXI_vXc/s320/sister+check+with+credit.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: large;">I hate pink ribbons....</span></b><br />
<br />
As I sit here at my screen, I am looking at a jar of hand cream. <br />
<br />
It is an unassuming jar - nothing really that special about the cream itself. It's not imported or infused with oils, scents, or the latest antioxidants. But still this jar of hand cream is catching me, and weighing heavy on my heart. I don't move it because it is a connection I have to my sister.<br />
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b><br /></b>
<b>I hate pink ribbons....</b><br />
<br />
This jar of hand cream is the jar that my sister used during her battle with inflammatory breast cancer. Her chemo and treatment were so harsh on her skin, that she had to bath her burning, itching, peeling skin during her 4 year and 9 month long life and death battle with a bitch, a demon, a monster of a disease.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>I hate pink ribbons... </b><br />
<br />
As a family with a history of breast cancer, we were MORE than AWARE of breast cancer. My sisters and I have had regular mammograms, done self-exams, and had clinical exams. Some of us had them earlier than the "recommended" age. We looked for the symptoms that the happy, pinkified campaigns suggested. We always looked for the lump. We were aware. And we didn't know what we didn't know.<br />
<br />
<b>I hate pink ribbons...</b><br />
<br />
Still, my sister had symptoms of breast cancer for months and didn't know. She was diagnosed at stage IV of inflammatory breast cancer. SHE HAD NO LUMP. She had what she thought was a rash. She had some swelling that she attributed to being lopsided. She had a dimply - orange peel like texture to her breast that she thought had to do with hormones or the rash.<br />
<br />
<b>I hate pink ribbons. </b><br />
<br />
None of what we were aware of ever told us to stop and take a good LOOK at our breasts. We weren't aware of the symptoms of inflammatory breast cancer. With as many pink ribbons as we saw, as many lumps we looked for, as "aware" as we were as a family, none of us knew about this type of breast cancer and these symptoms. We learned pretty damn quickly that this type of breast cancer leaves women with only a 35-40% 5 year survival prognosis. My sister died 4 years and 9 months after her diagnosis. We learned that it is a less common type of cancer but a very aggressive cancer that is diagnosed at a younger average age than other types of breast cancer. We learned very quickly that it often does not manifest in the form of a lump. We learned that there are visual changes that can accompany IBC, that we were not aware of. (For more information about IBC - inflammatory breast cancer visit <a href="https://www.theibcnetwork.org/frequently-asked-questions-faqs-2/">The IBC Network</a>, and see the sister check graphic above for possible visual cues. )<br />
<br />
<b>I hate pink ribbons...</b><br />
<br />
So why do I hate pink ribbons? I hate them because they do not tell the whole story. The pink ribbon has become the symbol of the "cause of awareness". I hear slogans of "support awareness"- just what the hell does that mean? At this point in history, if you are not aware that there is something called breast cancer you have lived your life under a rock. I hear of parents fighting for their kids right to wear a band with the word "boobies" on it as a matter of their right to free speech and belief. I see retailers and businesses pushing pink in "support", but fail to mention if any of your purchase supports anything. I see the pink ribbon associated with community, and happiness, and fun - which is not a bad thing, but that was not the ending of the story for my sister and our family.<br />
<br />
I hate the pink ribbons because to me, they trivialize my sister's death. To me, they don't support research, education, action, prevention, access to support for patients and families that are in the trenches of the war with cancer. The pink ribbon doesn't show what families that have lost loved ones have gone through. They don't show the grieving, the heartache, the life change that happens when a woman or a man dies as a result of breast cancer. I hate the pink ribbons because they leave out the what you don't want to hear about cancer. They are a<i> symbol</i> for awareness. We could have all the awareness in the world. But without action, education, research, support for patients and family, it means absolutely nothing.<br />
<br />
<i><b>I hate pink ribbons because they show the pretty side of the pink movement - cancer is anything but pretty.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
Is this an angry writing? Yes. My writings about this used to be hopeful as she truly fought the good fight. She won a lot of battles. But in the end - cancer won the battle for her breath. My anger comes from losing my sister. It comes from grieving. It comes from wishing there was a better prognosis for women who are affected by IBC. It comes from feeling like we were on top of awareness, and we weren't. <br />
<br />
To be clear, I am not saying that you should not engage in any campaigns. MANY organizations do good. I am simply saying to be aware that there is more that is needed than just awareness. Please - educate yourself. In today's information age, you have access to search and learn about breast cancer. There are so many good resources out there. Don't rely solely on a campaign or an awareness month to understand YOUR health. Be a good steward of your life. Take action and accountability where you can - learn what you can. <br />
<br />
Let me revisit a statement a few lines back. In the end, cancer won the battle for my sister's breath. BUT, it did not win the battle for her spirit and her soul. She is singing praises in heaven with her Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, and that brings us peace. However, in our humanness, until we see her again, we will miss and grieve for her. No number of pink ribbons can change that.<br />
<br />
As I sit here looking at this jar of hand cream, I think of my sister. And I think <b>I HATE PINK RIBBONS</b>.<br />
<br />
<i>Here's a challenge: Ask a business person who is pushing pink in support just how much they are donating toward a research cause, a patient support cause, a treatment cause, and education cause... if they are donating something, than great. If not, take what you would have spent on that item and donate it directly to an organization that supports beyond awareness. </i><br />
<br />
<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-2468400449222143952013-08-30T09:02:00.000-07:002013-08-30T09:02:48.600-07:00Momma's Never Forget.... A Crafty Repurpose Dry Erase Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWj5f-kBzqOmgyxYyCaubjpmx-8AJkbO9bE-cfDbm79yEIycMZnKwDzV4Ns-RVeXL7a8xULk5ZeN_OiMVv67Zht7b1P_g1hLLBA_2IXVcgedmczQ0cmjwY-VyvFg9ghHF3mGm_PA5Ug-8/s1600/dry+erase.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDWj5f-kBzqOmgyxYyCaubjpmx-8AJkbO9bE-cfDbm79yEIycMZnKwDzV4Ns-RVeXL7a8xULk5ZeN_OiMVv67Zht7b1P_g1hLLBA_2IXVcgedmczQ0cmjwY-VyvFg9ghHF3mGm_PA5Ug-8/s320/dry+erase.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Reclaimed Cupboard Door Dry Erase Boards <br /><br />In a busy world, you sometimes need reminders to help keep you focused and on track. Even the savviest of momma's need a reminder to not forget everything that is on their plate! Technology is a great tool for some. But for many, the tactile and visual experience of a written note is a better option to help them keep organized. Here’s an easy and inexpensive way to create a beautiful dry-erase board for those notes, using repurposed items.<div>
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<br /><br /><b><img src="file:///Users/amozilo/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/msoclip/0clip_image002.png" />You Will Need: </b><br /><br /><ul>
<li>Reclaimed Cupboard Door* </li>
<li>Acrylic Paint</li>
<li>Clear Contact Paper/Shelf Liner </li>
<li>Masking Tape </li>
<li>Sand paper </li>
<li>Gentle Soap and a wash cloth </li>
<li>Dry erase pens and eraser ** </li>
</ul>
<br />Directions: (Check out the video link below for a demonstration)<br /><br />1. Begin prepping the reclaimed cupboard door by wiping it down with a gentle soap and water solution and a wash cloth to remove any household residue. Once it is thoroughly dry, gently sand the center panel of the door with a fine sand paper. Wipe of any residue from the sanding. <br /><br />2. Use masking tape (or any painter’s tape) to tape-off the area that will be painted. <br /><br />3. Paint the taped off area with two coats, letting the first coat dry completely before painting the second. Let second coat dry completely before moving to the next step. <br /><br />4. Measure the painted area and cut a piece of clear contact paper/shelf liner to the same dimension. <br /><br />5. Pull back one edge of the contact paper far enough to match it up with the edge of painted surface. Apply the exposed (sticky) side to the edge of the painted surface. Slowly peel away paper backing while smoothing the surface side against the painted surface. When it is completely applied use your hands to smooth out any air bubbles. Note: If using dark colored paint, the surface will have a chalk board look to it. <br /><br />Use the existing drill holes from the hardware as a guide for affixing wall hanging hooks to your finished board. Hang it up and write away! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Check out this link for an on air segment demonstrating this fun craft!</div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.abc15.com/dpp/lifestyle/sonoran_living/angie-mozilo-shares-how-to-make-dry-erase-board">http://www.abc15.com/dpp/lifestyle/sonoran_living/angie-mozilo-shares-how-to-make-dry-erase-board</a></div>
<div>
<br /><br />*If a cupboard door is not available, any board with a flat surface can be used. <br /><br />**If using dark paint, use bright or neon pens. If using a lighter paint, note that you may need to change out the contact paper on occasion to keep the board looking fresh. Terrycloth square can be used in place of an eraser if needed. <br /><br /><br /> </div>
Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-24277844474370585732013-08-05T11:32:00.001-07:002013-08-05T11:32:49.432-07:00They're Watching...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisVZ-h5QmV4kz_agq5wXk3CNVxox6B75x5jRiLZBzm7w_jo1GaU9sTh4CHeDGvI_vMSBkrFedige5mzKXj4P1qE2gXPDYLlrMpxLOoT1_aPnh4_cNdPSuSMVvF5gr2auXk8mkqfhU4lDHC/s1600/climb+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisVZ-h5QmV4kz_agq5wXk3CNVxox6B75x5jRiLZBzm7w_jo1GaU9sTh4CHeDGvI_vMSBkrFedige5mzKXj4P1qE2gXPDYLlrMpxLOoT1_aPnh4_cNdPSuSMVvF5gr2auXk8mkqfhU4lDHC/s320/climb+-+Copy.JPG" width="306" /></a></div>
<span>I was at the climbing gym with my middle daughter. She
shared with me that I inspired her to step just a bit more. When we
climb, even when I am tired, I push myself to do just one more wall,
even though I know it's going to be tough<span class="text_exposed_show">.
She told me that example inspires her to step out with just a bit more
effort than she THINKS she has. <b>That moment showed me how important my
example to my daughters is and how important it is for me to recognize
my own determination.</b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span class="text_exposed_show">My oldest daughter was making her first big move away for a job and was having some anxiety over the change. We talked about all the wonderful things that it could bring, but also that if she didn't like it, that the changes she makes in life never have to be permanent. She went on to make the move and had a wonderful growing experience but realized she wanted to be closer to family. After about 18 months she moved back. She also updated her favorite quote on Facebook to read</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span class="text_exposed_show"> "<i>Nothing ever has to be permanent. ~ My Mom</i>"</span></span><br />
<br />
<b><span><span class="text_exposed_show">That showed me how impacting and lasting my words to my daughters can be. </span></span></b><br />
<span><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span>
<span><span class="text_exposed_show">My youngest daughter took her first summer job. When she started we let her know that she was responsible for getting up on her own and too work on her own. That's a challenge for any first job, but even more considering that she had to be at work at 7am every day, and that she does not yet drive. We have always given them accountability over themselves- the level increased as they got older. She took on her responsibility and did it all summer long without complaining. <b>That showed me the importance of teaching them life skill and responsibility. </b> It stays with them as the step off into the world.</span></span><br />
<span><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span>
<span><span class="text_exposed_show">All of these things were not overt lessons that happened in single conversations or commands barked- although conversations were had. They were more of lessons by example, consistency, and perseverance. My children watched me, listened to my words, and learned from the boundaries and responsibilities of our household. </span></span><br />
<span><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span>
<span><span class="text_exposed_show">As parents, it's difficult to see the rewards and the progress of parenting in each day. But, it does come. As they step into the world the impact you have had shines directly back to you like your reflection in a mirror. They have been absorbing how to be in the world through their relationship with you. Certainly social examples have an influence, but at the core of their foundation, what they have watched and learned from you is what steers them. It is a huge responsibility to be such a large part of their compass. </span></span><br />
<span><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span>
<span><span class="text_exposed_show">The next decision you make, the next words you speak, the next time you handle anger or failure, the next crisis you navigate, the next triumph you have, the next goal you work towards, the next time you show compassion - keep in mind that it sets the narrative of who your children are and how they have learned to be in the world. They can be either empowered or encumbered by what they see. Choose wisely and steward your life in the way that fills their understanding with useful tools. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span class="text_exposed_show"><i><b>Remember - they're watching...</b></i></span></span><br />
<span><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span>Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-54052822128954432772013-07-22T10:49:00.000-07:002013-07-22T11:32:49.955-07:00But I Like That About Me<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivlHkpMVOCHaODCbZDzC4VUZL8WayO_TLEiwwD13_4uNncs_evmjp1_q6Q4wo4Nw3suX_cHX_hXBd4Tt17LdK00TQK4K0DsU0me_JRKhnEU3_URR8JJjbrSTd8OzXcKDOp6L8Z6PB0OUQ1/s1600/i+like+that+about+me.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivlHkpMVOCHaODCbZDzC4VUZL8WayO_TLEiwwD13_4uNncs_evmjp1_q6Q4wo4Nw3suX_cHX_hXBd4Tt17LdK00TQK4K0DsU0me_JRKhnEU3_URR8JJjbrSTd8OzXcKDOp6L8Z6PB0OUQ1/s1600/i+like+that+about+me.JPG" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My makeup settles in the lines around my eyes</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My temples catch the light on glimmering gray, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My skin is no longer bronzed, taut and even,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My hands are calloused and my fingers are crooked, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My muscles are covered with fleshy softness,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My joints feel worked and sometimes ache,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My feet grow weary and weathered,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My movement is not as agile and swift,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My heart has broken into a million pieces- a thousand times,
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My mind takes a bit longer to process things, </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My eyes have seen the beauty of the world, squinted with the
shine of the sun and crinkled in laughter. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The sun catches my locks, but reminds me that the silver on
each strand is equal to the lining of the clouds that once seemed so dark. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Freckled and mottled, my skin has known the warmth of the
sunshine, been stretched with the growing of babies, and chaffed but healed
with the bumps of life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These hands are no longer young, smooth and straight, but
they have worked hard, are capable and creative, and have nurtured tenderly.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My body is not longer taut on the surface, but underneath lie
muscles that have carried babies, moved households and carried the weight of
the world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Joints creek and moan, but they have climbed hills and
mountains, and traveled hundreds of miles.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My feet are often weary, but they have stood strong and firm,
run the race, and carried me across the finish line more times than can be
counted. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Movement is slower these days, but I move with
intentionality, with purpose and with commitment. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My broken heart has mended its million pieces a thousand
times, each time bringing me greater understanding, compassion, and empathy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My wit and response may be slower, but it is because I have
absorbed more, gained wisdom, and learned to pause and think before acting and
responding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And I like that about me. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Each line, ache, mark, break, and pause….each perceived
imperfection is testament to the perfection of me; a carve in the clay of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>great sculpture, a fine patina on the finest
copper, or a light catching facet on a brilliant diamond. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>I like that about me. </b></i></div>
Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-13520794341916999932013-07-07T10:32:00.000-07:002013-07-07T10:32:53.378-07:00Parenting My Reflection<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUal9Us72o9zgP927EYuCtLhOpSQNrw0ZPv7n58pxICr9UMI9CO6-bcWBsyLUb2gBwcmLu4jSiZWX54sefVmAKpyDesYrd73vKVHW0HGDy_Q9k0VDhmMyMoKoBRjkLurnDQu9mZzBip3gE/s1600/girls.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUal9Us72o9zgP927EYuCtLhOpSQNrw0ZPv7n58pxICr9UMI9CO6-bcWBsyLUb2gBwcmLu4jSiZWX54sefVmAKpyDesYrd73vKVHW0HGDy_Q9k0VDhmMyMoKoBRjkLurnDQu9mZzBip3gE/s320/girls.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
As much as I miss my kids being little, I will be honest, I am enjoying being on this side of parenthood. It's not because I don't cherish and long for recapturing so many of the moments and memories that the younger years brought. It's not that I was anxious to have my kids grown and independent. It's not that I looked at parenting as a chore or a burden. It is because of what parenting taught me about my children, and about me.<br />
<br />
<b>Of all of the parenting moments, the challenges taught me the most.</b><br />
<br />
No one ever said parenting was easy. . Whether you are a first time parent or a parent of many children, there are things that challenge us as parents. The tantrums, the attitudes, the seemingly illogical objections to our "suggestions", the quirks and quandary inducing situations often leave us frustrated, confused, angry. The challenges also often leave us feeling like we are failing at parenting.<br />
<br />
<b>You should note that I didn't say our children challenge us as parents.</b> There is a very good and important reason for that. It was something I realized when one my children was about 8 years old - and I was tired, confused, frustrated, and feeling like I was failing as a parent. I couldn't figure out what made her tick, what caused the friction, and why she wouldn't "be" the way I thought she should be. As I was standing in the middle of the kitchen trying to (ahem) manage one of her attitudes, it was as if God placed a full length mirror directly in front of me. <i>I had the immediate and very clear realization that I was parenting my reflection.</i> That was not easy.<br />
<br />
As I stood there, I was humbled at seeing what I perceived as challenges about her transform into the realization that they were challenges in me. To clarify, it was not in actions or reaction - those manifestations in us were very different. The challenges were in what caused and the feelings in the actions and reactions. The challenge was more pointedly in what cause ME to act or react to things. It was about the things that make me, me; and her... her. <br />
<br />
When she would have a rough time with arguing and attitude as we were heading out the door for a last minute plan, I was parenting my own resistance to change. As she would be frustrated to the point of tearing up a homework assignment that she didn't think was going well, I was parenting my own need for perfection. When she would fall apart if her sisters interfered in her space, I was parenting my own need for some control over my personal bubble. As she got worked up, wound up, and wired up when we were out and about, I was parenting my own need for some down time to recharge. The challenges I saw in her were really the personality traits that I had, that she shared with me. Eye opening.<br />
<br />
This realization was key in helping me to parent her. It allowed me to remove myself as part of the problem, and become part of the solution. When I would react to her reaction, the way I was reacting, it became personality traits squared. Too much of a good thing can be a bad thing. But when I identified in me what was causing
me to react, I could identify (for the most part) what she was reacting
to. Knowing how I successfully manage my own personality traits gave me more tools to help her manage her. It allowed me to see from her perspective and become a proactive part of the solution, instead of part of the problem. <br />
<br />
<b>Was it easy or did it take any less effort? ABSOLUTELY NOT</b>! But, at the end of the effort and work, there was more peace, often resolution, and better understanding of her, and of me. It allowed me to foster and help guide those challenging things - that in reality were personality strengths, both in her AND in myself. This may be a whole different post at some point, but control can be guided to responsibility, leadership, accountability; perfection can be guided to effort, persistence, passion; need for down time can be guided to self reflection, comfort in independence, and appreciation and understanding of boundaries - each challenge to us, is rooted in a positive personality trait.<br />
<br />
The next time you are facing a parenting challenge, step back for a moment and imagine a mirror in front of you. Look at your reflection and recognize if that challenge is a bigger challenge because of who you are and how you react. When your children are young, they are not the challenge and never the enemy. You are the grown up and you are solely responsible for how you act and react. Parent reflectively and at the very least, you will have more parenting tools, and a better understanding of your child and of yourself and. <br />
<br />
<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-86359215051026052462013-06-30T08:00:00.000-07:002013-06-29T08:31:30.303-07:00Independence Day and the Ghost of Betsy Ross!From the archives, but a fun tradition! <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxuYq_nuIOYM9-U48cBe4iDD8VtJwORGYSbY1bpX32lUpHoIJh3iSkNs6JUdg3mtyrVnGy9cJRJSFDVnzDPwrcR0uCvvQFlAeVC-8ZSSa9vGidBXcbHZoCJUzo_O9u-9661DP_OfJVRaq/s1600-h/100_3392.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5354260995389635378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGxuYq_nuIOYM9-U48cBe4iDD8VtJwORGYSbY1bpX32lUpHoIJh3iSkNs6JUdg3mtyrVnGy9cJRJSFDVnzDPwrcR0uCvvQFlAeVC-8ZSSa9vGidBXcbHZoCJUzo_O9u-9661DP_OfJVRaq/s320/100_3392.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 240px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 320px;" /></a><b>Have you seen her?</b><br />
<br />
She visits our family every year.....<br />
<br />
If you are a lover of American History, you probably know that Besty Ross was born on New Years Day in 1752 in Philadelphia, PA. She is most well known for creating the banner that Americans pay respect and honor to (hopefully), our great Stars and Stripes, the great <a href="http://www.answers.com/topic/betsy-ross">American Flag</a>. If you are not a history buff, well, hopefully you can add this little piece of American history to your knowledge bank.<br />
<br />
For me and my family, Betsy Ross has played an integral part of our celebration of Independence Day, the 4th of July. This particular holiday is the one time of year that my sisters and I, our families, and our parents are all together...all 15 of us. We spend it crammed into my parent's 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom mountain cabin. It is a cozy 7 days, but full of lots of celebration.<br />
<br />
The Ghost of Betsy Ross as been a huge part of our festivities for the last 15 years when she first left a patriotic themed gift for each of the children after they each helped place an American flag in the yard of the cabin.(One of the kids speculated it was her ghost....so she has returned every year since.) Each year the kids have looked forward to decorating the yard as patriotically as they can, and seeing if Betsy Ross will return again. Sure enough, from the morning after the flags go up to the morning of the 4th, she has left them mementos that help them display their love of country and respect of the flag.<br />
<br />
<b>I understand that this is not the most traditional way to celebrate</b>, and may even draw some criticism from some for associating gifts with patriotism. But the way I see it is this:<br />
<br />
America is a great country. It is far from perfect and like every other country on this planet can always improve. But, it also is a country that through the voice and hard work of the people and the guidance of great leaders, continually strives and is dedicated to overcoming injustice and ensuring equality of all people. In essence as Americans, we are given the gifts of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as a benefit of our patriotism - I say gifts because of the many women and men that gave their lives to ensure us these things. And what may be even more amazing, is that for those that live in this great country that are against what America is built upon...they are granted grace, and receive the same gifts.<br />
<br />
I think that The Ghost of Betsy Ross has taught the children of the family a great appreciation for this Great Country. Untraditional as it may be, this way of celebrating has shown them the gift that they have by simply being able to call America home. Even as my children are venturing out into the world on their own - two are now adults, this tradition is close to their hearts and has deepened their appreciation for what it means to have the freedoms they have. <br />
<br />
<b>What Independence Day traditions do you have? </b>Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-56893362621570669172013-06-27T08:37:00.003-07:002013-06-27T08:43:13.759-07:00Easy Coffee Can Dye Shirt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwt39vAFoDiuCmbBE2ikgZmLFdqYDOxc3gKJeyO5-yrSJNBBzLoukyQqjHuJIWI2OS2wSaP66MaGwfcT67Ms99ManocFrO_4y65uzJ6ILlMJYoIHq2OvP7BktWYkG3C5V3ddW1J2kyBOHb/s1600/IMG_8345.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwt39vAFoDiuCmbBE2ikgZmLFdqYDOxc3gKJeyO5-yrSJNBBzLoukyQqjHuJIWI2OS2wSaP66MaGwfcT67Ms99ManocFrO_4y65uzJ6ILlMJYoIHq2OvP7BktWYkG3C5V3ddW1J2kyBOHb/s320/IMG_8345.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<b>Easy Coffee Can Dye Shirt</b><br />
<br />
Here is a fun and easy patriotic crafting project just in time for the 4th of July! With a few supplies and a few bits of time, you can create unique and fun designs to put some sparkle into your summer.<br />
<div>
<br />
<b>Here’s what you’ll need:</b></div>
<div>
<br />
White cotton or cotton-blend tank<br />
Red and Blue liquid dye<br />
A coffee can<br />
Rubber band<br />
White acrylic paint<br />
Fabric medium<br />
Crystal or crystal look embellishments. <br />
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<b>Here’s how you do it:</b></div>
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1.Wet the shirt and wring it out. Lay it flat and begin folding the shirt into a long rectangle, keeping in mind that the parts of the shirt that will take the most color on are the parts closest to the dye. Roll the rectangle into a log that narrow enough to fit into the coffee can with about an inch of room all the way around. Secure with a rubber band in the center of the log.<br />
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2.Mix the lighter (red) dye according to the package directions and fill the can about half way- keeping in mind the height of your rolled shirt. (The dye should reach up to about half of the height of the log when it is in the dye.)<br />
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3.Stand the log on end in the coffee can. The dye should reach about halfway up the shirt. Let it sit for about an hour. Go grab a cup of coffee, run an errand, catch up on your great summer read. <br />
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4.Carefully remove the shirt from the dye. Leaving the shirt rolled, run the log under hot water, letting the water run from the top of the un-dyed end through the bottom of the dyed end. Continue until the water runs pretty clear. Squeeze any excess water out and repeat steps 2-4 with the darker (blue) dye.<br />
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5.Unrole the shirt and rinse in hot soapy water until water runs clear. Let it dry. </div>
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6. Mix 2 parts white acrylic pain with 1 part fabric medium.</div>
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7. Lie shirt flat with a barrier layer between the front and back of the shirt. Stencil on stars in desired pattern.<br />
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8. Embellish tips of stars with crystals if desired. <b>Enjoy!!</b></div>
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<b>Tips: </b></div>
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ALWAYS handwash this project separately. It may bleed to other fabrics if washed together.<br />
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The tighter the shirt is rolled, the lighter the interior of the roll will be. Looser it is rolled, the more colorful the interior. </div>
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You may want to wear plastic gloves while doing this project. Dye may stain your hands.<br />
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Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-67413371598258644062013-06-10T19:31:00.000-07:002013-06-11T20:38:59.469-07:00My Queendom For Some Sleep! (A Bit of Reflection and A SleepNumber M7 Review)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Do you remember being a kid and hating that you had to go to bed? It seemed like such a punishment to have to leave the day, leave the action, leave what ever it was you were doing to have to go to bed.<br />
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Do you remember being a teen and having your "bedtime" made later or even lifted? It seemed like such freedom to hang you in your room (of course reading or doing something productive...) till when ever you were tired enough to go to sleep.<br />
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Do you remember being a young adult and having the freedom and the fun of staying up or out all night? Enjoying the nightlife with the after 10 crowd - that was appealing. Living for the the late nights and the long weekends was the norm. <br />
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<i><b>And then the day came when you could care less about the Night Owl lifestyle.</b></i> Instead of craving time with friends and fun, instead of trading snoozing for the party scene, instead of trading dreamland for danceland, you'd trade your queendom for a good nights sleep.<br />
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When exactly does that transition happen? <br />
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Maybe it's the day that we realize that we are on our own and completely responsible for ourselves. Or, maybe it's the day that we become parents and lose sleep not of our own accord, but because the little one in our house is not sleeping. Perhaps, it is a certain age that our body just screams STOP and sleep.<br />
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I do know that for myself, I transitioned to that place long, long ago. But there was a crazy irony - as soon as I wanted sleep, I couldn't get it. Work and worry, babies and body aches, traveling husband and teething toddlers, middle-schoolers and mood swings, teens and tumult, college age kids and college sized costs, did enough to keep me awake at night. I wanted and needed a soft place comfy place to lay my head down and slumber peacefully by Mr. Mom of Many Hats side.<br />
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But, alas, I found myself like the princess who had the pea under her mattress. Mr. MMH and I had very different ideas of what comfort was. While he slept like a rock, I would wake up feeling like I had slept on rocks. The few short hours that I was getting each night rested my brain a bit, but not my body. That comfy place of peaceful slumber passed me by.<br />
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<i><b>SLEEP... I NEEDED SLEEP! And so did he.</b></i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1L-qePBpTqGjBfQE2gOxxVmLvhs81xC0ZxqpR4hKQXvmEFZ145HnR1cObpY908ZJf3-EojZav8CDfO3t_hO8Nhx348OW5gvzVe4aTdNP2vtS1284nmEAqD2GNB07vT9dKViFiGcdZk3z/s1600/m7_remote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi1L-qePBpTqGjBfQE2gOxxVmLvhs81xC0ZxqpR4hKQXvmEFZ145HnR1cObpY908ZJf3-EojZav8CDfO3t_hO8Nhx348OW5gvzVe4aTdNP2vtS1284nmEAqD2GNB07vT9dKViFiGcdZk3z/s200/m7_remote.jpg" width="200" /></a>Many years ago when we were trying to remedy the sleep inequality in our house, we came across the <a href="http://www.sleepnumber.com/">SleepNumber</a> Brand. We visited a showroom and tried out the pillow top and memory foam models. We opted for the pillow top with dual air chambers. This awesome bed allowed us to each set the perfect amount of firmness for our individual comfort. Sleeping changed for me. I was actually getting sleep (although I still should force myself to sleep more hours, but that's another post), and good sleep at that. It was a Win/Win for both myself and my husband. <br />
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When <a href="http://www.sleepnumber.com/">SleepNumber</a> asked me to review the new P5 or <a href="http://www.sleepnumber.com/eng/products/sleep-number-beds/memory-foam-series/m7/m7?m7&cm_mmc=Dynamic+Signal-_-Memory+Foam-_-Influencer+Outreach-_-m7+Bed+Campaign&cm_mmca1=m7+Bed&cm_mmca2=Blog+Post&cm_mmca3=May72013&cm_mmca4=6:00PM&cm_mmca5=Blog+C">M7</a> model of the <a href="http://www.sleepnumber.com/">SleepNumber</a> bed, I was more <a href="http://www.sleepnumber.com/eng/products/sleep-number-beds/memory-foam-series/m7/m7?m7&cm_mmc=Dynamic+Signal-_-Memory+Foam-_-Influencer+Outreach-_-m7+Bed+Campaign&cm_mmca1=m7+Bed&cm_mmca2=Blog+Post&cm_mmca3=May72013&cm_mmca4=6:00PM&cm_mmca5=Blog+C">M7</a> (Memory Foam Series) and see how well it worked for me and my sleep needs. <br />
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Since I had preferred the "P" models years ago, I decided to try the "M" model. I was more than happy to take it for a test sleep!<br />
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I slept on the <a href="http://www.sleepnumber.com/eng/products/sleep-number-beds/memory-foam-series/m7/m7?m7&cm_mmc=Dynamic+Signal-_-Memory+Foam-_-Influencer+Outreach-_-m7+Bed+Campaign&cm_mmca1=m7+Bed&cm_mmca2=Blog+Post&cm_mmca3=May72013&cm_mmca4=6:00PM&cm_mmca5=Blog+C">M7</a> for 7 nights in a row. In that time, I did my normal daily routines that included all the stresses and strains of daily life and parenting, surviving in the AZ heat, and some pretty tough running, climbing and weight lifting workouts. With the exception of the first night (the newness of sleeping in a different bed), I slept through the night soundly and comfortably. I had worried that the memory foam would trap heat and would keep me too warm. But the cooling gel technology conformed and supported me (without swallowing me up!) but kept me at a comfortable temp. I was particularly impressed on the third night's sleep when I had done a 4 mile run AND 2.5 hours of hard climbing at the gym. I adjusted the bed (my sleep number) a bit higher for additional support and woke up with my joints feeling good. <br />
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I've recorded much of the process and review in the video below. <br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/PLOhhJwhDOo" width="560"></iframe><br />
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When it comes to sleep, we should all know that the <a href="http://www.cdc.gov/features/dssleep/">CDC</a> recommends 7-9 hours of sleep for adults. We should also know that our bedding from case to mattress can affect how well we sleep. Interestingly enough, <a href="http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/sleep/HQ01387">Mayo Clinic</a> shares the importance of comfort in its tips for a better nights sleep. But for you and me, as moms or dads, parents or just tired adults, we may not always admit it, but we know we should manage our sleep. Our queendoms and kingdoms run much smoother when we are well rested!<br />
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*<i>Sleep Number (SelectComfort) provided the reviewer the M7 product in exchange for a review. The review is not to be considered a recommendation for you and your personal needs but rather it is an opinion based on the reviewer's observations and experience. Opinions reflected are those of the reviewer alone and are not influenced by the relationship to the provider of the product. </i><br />
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<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-52752417462094208422013-05-22T05:39:00.000-07:002013-05-22T05:39:11.090-07:00Be Still and Listen<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_LoarGK7od5PGehGvun8en7QfIbZ-jnQn9jT3kPmY6-21xfh4DhKQVfNQWlDlIja5kdvx-WQ5PglApWpcS3OtbDAc0gPUXcpC-HlxGsUYpu0iIDwOzNRov2SrQuoCN3ooZyvVnjKfqKh/s1600/sd+card+2011+thru+2012+3252.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_LoarGK7od5PGehGvun8en7QfIbZ-jnQn9jT3kPmY6-21xfh4DhKQVfNQWlDlIja5kdvx-WQ5PglApWpcS3OtbDAc0gPUXcpC-HlxGsUYpu0iIDwOzNRov2SrQuoCN3ooZyvVnjKfqKh/s320/sd+card+2011+thru+2012+3252.JPG" width="320" /></a>If you have been a long time follower of AZ Mom of Many Hats Blog, you have probably noticed a bit of calm and quiet on the site. Much of life has been happening in the "Mom of Many Hats" household. There have been challenges, changes, and choices to be made. Many of these things required a lot of reflection, introspection, emotional energy, and being still and listening.<br />
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<i>Hence... A mom of few words....</i><br />
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But, this brings up a very important issue for moms (and dads) of many hats - the fact that we often refuse to let ourselves quiet and slow down and take the time to listen to life. It is so easy to be busy, to rush on to the next event or deadline, to pour energy into things that have no measurable value in our lives. We live in a world of distractions and busyness that allows us to be constantly in high gear. We choose to not downshift. Let's be honest...often, we don't slow down so we don't have to listen to what life is shouting at us.<br />
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<i><b>But why don't we want to be still and listen to what life is telling us?</b></i><br />
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<i>It's Painful.</i> When we stop and be still, there isn't as much action and white noise interfering with our thoughts and emotions. We are faced with and forced to take a look at what is happening in our lives. Painful issues that we have been able to zip by may now become a place that we need to visit. When standing still, grief, fear, and frustration catch up to us. We've slowed down the train, and they jump on.<br />
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<i>It's humbling.</i> At a standstill, the scenery and sounds are much clearer than when we are zooming by it at 100 mph. Being still causes us to feel our size in the vastness of the universe, but at the same time, the enormity of the impact that we each can have in it. We have the chance to step out of our own perceptions of what the world is to us (entitlement), and decide who we need to be to the world (obligation). It's a tough and humbling experience to realize just how inwardly you are living when you are not standing still and listening. <br />
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<i>It's deafening.</i> That old oxymoron - deafening silence, holds true here. It is sort of like the few days in our recent history that no planes were flying in the air. The absence of the white noise in the sky made the organic sounds of the world around us scream. Standing still brings up organic sounds of life; the questions of calling and purpose, reassessing who we are, having to face issues of living and mortality, looking at our faith, questioning and preparing for the future. When we are still and listening, these sounds can feel overwhelming. <br />
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<i><b>Even though it can very difficult, there are reasons why we should stand still and listen. </b></i><br />
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<i>It's eye opening</i>. When we step back, be still, and listen, there is an opportunity to take stock of how we are living. A moment of quiet shows where ways can be changed. Actions, heart, motivation, emotions, areas that need to be fixed or tweaked become clear to our site when there is a break in the busyness of existing. Convictions and character can be solidified as a rock to stand on - and we can see the areas we would not change as well. <br />
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<i>It's restorative.</i> Because life is a work out, there needs to be rest. The work stretches, tears, and challenges our existence muscles. Our physical bodies need rest when they have been challenged and worked. It is the time where repair, restoration, and rejuvenation happens. So it is with our minds, spirits, and wills as we walk through life. Being still allows us to catch our breath, steady our steps, refuel, and move forward. It allows us to find perspective, hope, and reason that can get loss amongst the chaos that is often a part of day to day existence. <br />
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<i>It's our obligations as good life stewards. </i>Our life is something that we are called to steward - to manage with unselfish ownership and accountability. Part of that stewardship is stop, rest and listen. If we are in perpetual motion and constant action, we are actually living an inwardly centered life. Slowing down and reflecting allows us to "shut our mouths and open our ears" to truly see how we are impacting, and how the world is impacting us. The key to life stewardship is recognizing the responsibility to take proactive assessments of how we are living and being in the world, acting when acting is due, but also listening, resting, and being still when it is due. <br />
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I confess, that there are times in my life that I keep busy so I don't have to hear what life and God are speaking into my heart. It can hurt to be corrected, called out, and humbled by what you hear. It can be hard to hear and feel emotions. It can also be scary to see the opportunities ahead that you can step into. But regardless of how much our minds and wills fight it, regardless of how much we don't want to be still and listen, it is a necessary and crucial step for us as people, as women, and as mothers.<br />
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<b>Do you have a hard time being still and listening? </b><br />
<b>Do you do it willingly or does life have to force it upon you? </b>Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-79795807036457167612013-01-09T19:30:00.000-08:002013-01-10T06:50:42.931-08:00The ToolBox - Fill the Box Now, Be Their Friend Later<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQLODjMPvPymBx8xVBus_cLmN9-_6ugg3evSck9allSI_fM-VFfUuGPokw5DitVZffK_9f1Q6t2qe9EUHoqLbMgs9UliUVADL-QgrRsQqFsWUu9OFPeyydFIJ-Yfiy3z2L170UFIEAJNqH/s1600/parent+tool+box.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQLODjMPvPymBx8xVBus_cLmN9-_6ugg3evSck9allSI_fM-VFfUuGPokw5DitVZffK_9f1Q6t2qe9EUHoqLbMgs9UliUVADL-QgrRsQqFsWUu9OFPeyydFIJ-Yfiy3z2L170UFIEAJNqH/s320/parent+tool+box.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px;"><span id="goog_1563015978"></span><span id="goog_1563015979"></span>“Parents can only give good advice or put them on the right paths, but the final forming of a person's character lies in their own hands.” </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: large; line-height: 18px;">― Anne Frank</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><i>I would love it if I could give my kids everything they wanted...</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">But I can't. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Even if I could, I wouldn't. My conscience, my judgement, my heart, and my parental responsibility would not let me. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>I would love to be my children's best friend...</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">But I can't.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Even if I could, I wouldn't. That is not my role. At least it's not my role while they are minor children, under my care, still maturing and growing to adulthood. I guess I could have taken the role of friend instead of parent, but my conscience, my judgment, my heart, and my parental responsibility would not let me. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>I would have loved to make every path clear, every job easy, every relationship without trouble, every class fun, every game winnable, every action rewardable.... </i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">But I can't.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Even if I could, I wouldn't. That may have been in some way possible, but not at all realistic or representative of what life is. I could shelter them, fight every battle, and make their existence nothing but easy and fun, but my conscience, my judgment, my heart, and my parental responsibility would not let me. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">In the short term, eliminating any wants or obstacles in your children's lives may seem like an expression of love and caring. It may seem to you that it is a way of taking care of and protecting them. To make a path easy for them gets them further along the road. Giving them what they want fulfills their desires for things. Being a friend instead of holding then accountable and towing the line might feel like it's creating connection. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>The truth: </i>That is the easy road for you. It also creates a tougher road for them when they are out in the world. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">Your job, my job, our job is to be parents and to ready them for the world. A parent's job is to fill their child's toolbox with the tools they will need to be in it successfully. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">As a grown-up you know that the world is nothing like living at mom and dad's house with them taking care of the necessities of life. It can be a great place, but it is not always an easy place. It takes hard work, tenacity, willingness to stretch yourself, understanding and ability to cope with failures along with the successes, and knowing that things don't always go the way you want them to. You have to problem solve, get along with people you don't always like, sometimes work in </span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">situations that are less than what you would like them to be, and earn your successes. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">As parent, it is your job to balance your care and protection with preparing your children for the world- a world that is not going to coddle them. To do that, they need a toolbox stocked with the tools that will help them build a life in a world that looks very different from mom and dad's house. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">The world will hold them accountable and responsible for their actions. Give them this tool by holding them accountable and responsible for their actions and words. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">The world will not reward them for simply stepping into it. They will fail at things in life as adults. Prepare them with the tools for it by letting them fail at things sometimes. It is hard not to save them from it when you can, but the short term benefit of a better feeling in the moment becomes a long term obstacle when they don't know how to accept, learn from, and recover from it in the world. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">The world will not give the everything they want. Just like the rest of us, there will be some things that they get, some things they will have to work for, and some things that just never may come. Give them the tool of having joy with what's in front of them, and the ability to find happiness even when they don't have their every wish fulfilled. Don't grant every "want". Give them everything they need, and some of what they want - but not everything. Give them the tool of knowing the difference between a need and a want by understanding the difference yourself. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">They will need to learn empathy, sympathy, the ability to feel joy and sadness, how to live a healthy lifestyle, and understanding of money and responsible use of it, self respect, respect for others, determination, tenacity, will, drive, how to rest, how to love... the list of tools goes on and on. It is parent responsibility to send them into the world with a full tool box. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: lucida grande, tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">It's not an easy job, but you are the best and most influential person for the job. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">When you are weary and feeling like the "bad guy", just recite this to yourself: Today I know that Parenting is a tiring job but a worthy one. <i><b>Our duty is to give them the tools they need to be in the world. It is their job to open the tool box and use them.</b></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;"><b>Be their parent now. Your reward of being their friend will come. </b></span>Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-2259152695466844132012-12-24T06:00:00.000-08:002012-12-24T07:54:02.367-08:00It All Passes By So Soon<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3r0ZlrnWZ2UDuoyvaEUf0YZuZN1ZLAZrPWETb3Cakri_7GpYsN1XMOZ-SnL_Evp1igvxAwXQ_-SsZpSfd8wYN8o_CN5cw52rzKy6QxPD4OFv99B1ZidHCGJky1ToAularromTCY87-BI/s1600-h/june07dec06+172.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283180683170927170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM3r0ZlrnWZ2UDuoyvaEUf0YZuZN1ZLAZrPWETb3Cakri_7GpYsN1XMOZ-SnL_Evp1igvxAwXQ_-SsZpSfd8wYN8o_CN5cw52rzKy6QxPD4OFv99B1ZidHCGJky1ToAularromTCY87-BI/s320/june07dec06+172.jpg" style="display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a>The first Christmas kiss 'neath the mistletoe ball</div>
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Love that grows with the winter moon<br />
The hopes and <a class="link" href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/theme/872/dreams.html" title="dreams">dreams</a> of two people enthrall<br />
It all passes by so soon.<br />
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Newlyweds' bliss on a new Christmas morning<br />
Their hearts are now one, not two<br />
The anticipation of the life they are forming<br />
It all passes by so soon.<br />
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Baby's first Christmas such a joyous sight<br />
With boxes and bows and balloons<br />
Sweetly slumber that holiday night<br />
It all passes by so soon.<br />
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Little kids' toys under the tree<br />
That will litter the <a class="link" href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/theme/491/floors.html" title="floors">floors</a> of their rooms<br />
The little ones sitting on Santa's knee<br />
It all passes by so soon.<br />
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Teenagers who wince and roll their eyes<br />
Wish for high-tech not heirlooms<br />
Dread helping mom make Christmas pies<br />
It all passes by so soon.<br />
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Young adults come and bring their new spouses<br />
Rush off before it turns noon<br />
To celebrate Christmas in their own houses<br />
It all passes by too soon.<br />
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Grandchildren visit on Christmas Eve<br />
And sing happy holiday tunes<br />
But before long they must leave<br />
It all passes by too soon.<br />
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That first Christmas kiss 'neath the mistletoe ball<br />
Love that grew with the winter moon<br />
The hopes and <a class="link" href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/theme/872/dreams.html" title="dreams">dreams</a> of two people extolled<br />
It all passed by too soon.</div>
Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-16123433743478621112012-12-19T12:13:00.000-08:002012-12-19T12:16:41.351-08:00The 12 Days With a Twist! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZI7V09SPrYqE7DYzvR-jhayXqxKLzY2PNLc1rgXR6ACxPWBJ5g7Yz_nfOqNvWLLTSaj6REjSMKsoIBPuknjFt62P93qM8JfVUbORG5whT8soZmvuVKTfqAgH1CmyurNZmJHbJrhNjNZie/s1600/IMG_7371.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZI7V09SPrYqE7DYzvR-jhayXqxKLzY2PNLc1rgXR6ACxPWBJ5g7Yz_nfOqNvWLLTSaj6REjSMKsoIBPuknjFt62P93qM8JfVUbORG5whT8soZmvuVKTfqAgH1CmyurNZmJHbJrhNjNZie/s320/IMG_7371.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Ah.... it’s that time of year. The scent of pine in the air,
aromas of hot cookies quaffing from the kitchen, the sound of gold bells and
coins clinking in red buckets - all of these things tell us of the impending
arrival of the man in the red suit. We will prepare our homes, don our
best, deck our decks and halls, and peck under the mistletoe. Merriment and joy
abound as we await the coming of Christmas. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Songs of the holiday fill the airwaves, satellite stations and
music players. Traditionally we sing of leaping lords. With gaiety we recite
and repeat the verses about dancing ladies and milk maids. Doves and
partridges join in the chorus. But in this economy and with the price of gold -
who can afford 5 rings? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Thus, I propose a silly new look at the "12 Of" Christmas. In a spirit of fun and festivity, I present
to you the following list beginning at 12 and ending with 1. Remember a
tune, make up your own, or simply recite the words to this twist on a holiday
classic. Feel the holiday magic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>12 Relatives </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Holidays are a time for family. At Christmas, we gather in family
masses for holiday feasts and gift giving frenzy. With joy and happiness, we
celebrate the ones we love. OK - I know this can be a stressful scenario with
conflict - but in a perfect world all 12 would live in peace and harmony. One
can wish upon a Christmas star.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>11 Christmas Carols</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Music is a huge part of the holiday. There are multitudes of
songs, versions, remixes and medleys. They are each beautiful in their own way.
So why does it seem like the same 11 get played over and over?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>10 Candy Canes</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I’m sure I can’t be the only one who has experienced this. I can
get the box of a dozen candy canes home safely, but only 10 survive the
extraction from the box intact. Is it just me or is there some sort of candy
conspiracy going on here?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>9 Broken Ornaments</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Regardless of how carefully the ornaments are hung, there are
always some that don’t make it. Sometimes it’s the one ornament falling off the
tree or out of the box. Sometimes it’s the whole tree angry from the weight and
decoration, revolting and throwing itself to the ground resulting is mass
ornament casualties. I can’t say I can count exactly, but based on how many
pieces of ornament glass end up in my feet each year, I count the number of
broken ornaments at 9.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>8 Favorite Movies</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">The holiday movies start in November. I’m OK with that. I
love the feeling I get when I watch them. They are nostalgic, fun, and
comforting. There are probably close to as many movies as there are songs, but
I’m sure we can each pick out 8 favorites. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>7 Hundred Dollars</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Just about $700 is the amount that the average person will spend on the
holidays this year according to the National Retail Association. Just
hear those registers ring-a-ling.....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>6 Christmas Stockings</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">This might sound like a lot of stockings - but in my house between
my three girls, we hang 6 stockings. One stocking gets filled on Christmas
morning, and one that holds a small gift each of the 8 days before Christmas -
a tradition we started years ago. It’s one of my favorite.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>5 Plates of Cookies (aka 5 extra pounds)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">The low side of the average number of pounds that a person gains
during the holiday season is 5 - thank you American Dietetic Association for
that merry reminder. With all of the goodies and gatherings, it’s no surprise.
But, it’s best to watch the cookie intake. The 5 extra pounds is a gift that
can’t be re-gifted or returned on the 26th. It’s with us for a while
after the holidays.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>4 Returned Gifts</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Hopefully we don’t make it a habit of returning gifts simply
because we don’t like them. But at some point in our lives we have had to
return or exchange a gift for one reason or another. In my humble opinion, if
you are returning 4 gifts each year, it’s time to rethink our attitude towards
receiving. See <a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2012/12/barbie-and-great-white-lesson-on-giving.html">Barbie and The Great White</a> for my own personal experience with this....</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>3 Christmas Parties</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">According to </span><a href="http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m4021/is_2002_Nov_1/ai_93089453/"><span style="color: #000099; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Tis Party Time</span></a><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"> by John Fetto,
the average American between the ages of 18-34 attends just over 3 parties each
holiday season. Office parties, family get togethers, and social holiday
gatherings keep us running from one place to another. With all that partying
and eggnog, we may end up needing the next on this list. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>2 Aspirin</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Let’s face it, with the hustle and bustle of the holidays, the
social imbibing, the frantic search for the perfect gifts, and the dealings in
social situations that are unique to this time of year, most of us reach for
the aspirin to ease the headache. As much as we love the holiday, our friends
and family, we can have too much of a good thing. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>1 Most Beautiful Christmas Tree</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">Regardless of all of the other happenings, the most beautiful tree
is what we gather around as a family on Christmas to remember the gifts we have
been given. We make memories, share in joy, and join in each other’s excitement
as the wonderment of the morning unfolds. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">In the hectic world we live in it’s often hard to step back and
see the true meaning and spirit of the holidays. It is about joy,
togetherness, giving, and blessing one another. I hope you enjoyed this
post and that it brought a smile, a chuckle or a simple smirk as you read it.
I have been blessed by every reader of the AZ Mom of Many Hats and I Am Woman Enough sites. I wish you a very Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, blessings and prosperity in 2013. <span style="font-size: 8.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-49419480733462660492012-12-09T08:32:00.000-08:002012-12-09T08:32:22.737-08:00Barbie and the Great White - A Lesson on Giving<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Christmas Eve 1976 - I remember it like it was yesterday...<br />
<br />
Grandma had cooked up her amazing Christmas Eve fare with scalloped potatoes and ham, yummy rolls, mincemeat and her eternally famous apple pie. We were all stuffed to the brim. Grandpa got his annual after dinner headache and had to head upstairs to his room for aspirin and a nap. All of the grandkids, knowing how these evenings went, huddled at the base of the stairs by Grandma's 1950's style wiry tree with the massive light bulbs and elves sitting in the branches. <br />
<br />
Grandma and Grandpa had connections. Santa made a special trip to their house to pass out their gifts to us. We waited, not so patiently for him to descend the staircase. Apparently he used an upstairs window to enter - not the family room chimney. <br />
<br />
I took my special place by my uncle's TV chair and waited. I was at the younger end of the grandkids, so the anticipation built as each one of the older kids got a gift. The excitement was bubbling up inside. My stomach filled with butterflies. And finally Santa came my way and pulled out a white tissue wrapped gift with a colorful bow.<br />
<br />
I took it, only able to imagine what could possibly be in that snowy white paper. I struggled to untie the bow. Grandma was good at tying ribbons - tightly. It wouldn't budge. I needed to try a different strategy. So I tore into the tissue. Layer after layer - my heart pounding with each. What could it be?<br />
<br />
Finally, my eyes grew big as I got to the last layer. The grew even bigger when the veil of the gift came off. My hands shook, my lip began to quiver, and the tears started to fall. With my gift in my hand, I ran to my mother and buried my head in her lap and cried.<br />
<br />
Why? Why? What had I done that year? Why would the gift from Santa's bag be a Barbie doll stuffed inside of a rubber Great White Shark?<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQMUI1ZydKIotSETPCCU8sqkLYOYVe8HiPkzI2r0Ghp-IoiU6l4usWK7X-VUSqhvch5dI6iXGjCNQKwGqknd_FPWhLJVAWj4dFWq5PsBZdovwqBH4zOqyGbXy02jFgqq4rC8mjDRl8BMc/s1600/IMG_7177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOQMUI1ZydKIotSETPCCU8sqkLYOYVe8HiPkzI2r0Ghp-IoiU6l4usWK7X-VUSqhvch5dI6iXGjCNQKwGqknd_FPWhLJVAWj4dFWq5PsBZdovwqBH4zOqyGbXy02jFgqq4rC8mjDRl8BMc/s320/IMG_7177.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
Mom soothed me and the sobbing slowed down. But, still I didn't understand.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later that evening when my mom was helping clean up the
mess we had all made, she came across the note that in my rush to open my gift I didn’t see.
She read it to me. I remember it saying something like this. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I don’t know why there are<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>rubber sharks in all the stores, but I thought it was cute.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> You enjoy your ocean books so much, I think you'll like him. </span>I know how much you have always wanted a
Barbie too. Enjoy then both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love you!
Grandma.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Barbie and the Great White taught me lifelong lessons in giving. They taught me about <b>intent, joy</b> and <b>remembrance</b>.<br />
<br />
<i>Grandma's intent for giving me these two gifts was pure of heart.</i> Grandma didn't get out to the movies and rarely watched anything other than the Lawrence Welk show on TV. She had no clue that people from 7 to 47 were terrified of the ocean and of great white sharks because of the release of Jaws the year before. She saw that there were "cute" rubber sharks in the stores and knew that I loved the books I had about the ocean. She also knew that I always wanted a Barbie. She found a lovely one with dark hair - sort of the color of my own, and thought I would like it. In her quirkiness, a term of both respect and endearment, she put the two together, one inside the other. Looking back as I grew older, it made sense. My grandma was known for giving quirky gifts - our Christmas Eve family Bingo games at her house were legendary. You never knew what you would get as a prize - it could be a light bulb, a roll of toilet paper, or if you were the one lucky win, the box of Toblerone chocolate. Barbie and the Great White fit her personality, but also fit the purity of intent in her heart.<br />
<br />
<i>I learned lessons in joy.</i> Grandma had spent time with us, interacting with us, watching us, and knowing what we liked. She, in her Grandma wisdom, knew things that would bring us joy even if we didn't know they could bring us joy. I loved that Barbie and played with it for the entire next year. Sharky (yes... an original name) was in our house for years. That big grey razor tooth fish made its way into bathtubs, sinks, and the neighbors pool whenever we'd swim. He was played with, loved, and brought joy. The shark as a thing ended up bringing great delight, but so did the story. Grandma knew how to bring me the gift of joy. <br />
<br />
<i>That Christmas gift in 1976, Barbie and the Great White, in the history of all my Christmases, is the most remembered gift I have ever received.</i> Yes, others have come close, but that one will forever be burned in my memory. I remember where I was when I opened it, the feeling of the rubber shark, the look of the Barbie's hair slightly messed because of my tugging on the wrapping paper. Every year, I remember the experience, my reaction, my Grandma's note, the joy I got from the gift, and the meaning and heart of giving.<br />
<br />
<b>There was a bonus lesson. </b>When we learn how to give from the heart, to give in a way that we know will bring the
receiver joy, and when we realize that true gifts fill the heart’s desires not
the brain’s or egos desires for “stuff”, we have not only grown in giving, but
we have learned and grown in the way we receive. Because when we give in this focus, we learn
to receive in it as well.<br />
<br />
As you move into this holiday season, remember that true giving lies in the intent, joy and the remembrance that comes from the act of giving, not from the thing that is given.<br />
<br />
<b>What is your most remembered gift memory?</b><br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-3874693548328989782012-12-04T09:19:00.002-08:002012-12-04T09:19:15.806-08:00Stop Super Stuffing Stockings! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Oh how I loved digging through my holiday stocking that hung on our stone fireplace! </b><br />
<br />
My sisters and I each had a particular stone that our stocking hung from. We'd all jump up on the hearth, scramble to our sock, and pull it down, hoping it didn't spill out on top of us. We would scramble off to our own place in the living room with our light green gingham checked and red brick-a-bract adorned, homemade stockings. We'd sit on the floor and pull out each item from them - admiring each one! Our stockings had oranges, nuts, sugarless gum, socks, lip glosses, hair brushes and accessories, and just a few other miscellaneous toys. Every year, we knew what would be in them, but EVERY year we were so excited to find the treasures that were left for us. <br />
<br />
Holiday stockings really add to the fun, but also to the stress and expense of the holidays. Electronic gadgets, headphones, large gift cards, watches, endless trinkets and toys, sugary treats in the latest animated or superhero theme - all those things that are advertised as stocking essentials, increase the strain on our busyness and a pocketbooks. We feel compelled to super stuff the stockings. For some reason moms think that by buying all of the latest stocking fads and out doing last year's stocking, we are being a better mom. Adding to the stress is that moms know that many of the trinkets in the stocking, no matter how well our intentions were, will be lost, tossed and forgotten.<br />
<br />
The Christmas stockings are no measure of how much you love your kids, nor are they a snapshot of your parenting ability. It doesn't have to be an angst filled experience to fill a stocking - but it will be if you fill them with the heart of out-doing last year, instead of the heart of creating lasting memories. <br />
<br />
In the rush and <a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2008/11/cant-see-forest-for-tress.html">bustle of the season</a>, it's already an overwhelming environment. Stockings can be great help in bringing back some calm, tradition and simplicity. Don't hesitate from stepping back from stocking extravagance. Go back to basic stuffers - oranges, bubble gum, fun socks, a fun new electric toothbrush, New PJs, activity books, a sprinkle in a few of the fun trinkets and candy. (<a href="http://www.azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/p/quick-tips.html">Check the Quick Tip page for more back to basics stocking stuffers</a>). If you think back to your childhood stockings, you probably will remember those things that you received every year - and used. Your children will remember the same. Those simple treasures hidden in the stocking will bring just as much joy, and create memories and traditions that your children may pass to their families <br />
<br />
It's time to take it back to simplicity. Bringing
it back to simple can be a wonderful change and stress reducer at this
time of year. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Do you have any stocking traditions?<br />
What Do you remember from your own childhood Christmas stocking? <br />
<br /><br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-84633420103348069722012-12-01T06:01:00.002-08:002012-12-01T06:01:59.652-08:00For Amy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is not a typical post for AZ Mom of Many Hats.<br />
<br />
But, Amy is not a typical person. She is my sister. She is amazing.<br />
<br />
I have posted about Amy several times before over the last five years. The first post <a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-sisters-cancer.html">My Sister's Cancer</a> being about finding out in February 2008 that she was diagnosed in Stage IV <a href="http://www.theibcnetwork.org/">Inflammatory Breast Cancer</a> - an invasive and very aggressive form of breast cancer that does not generally have a defined lump. There were successive posts on her journey and battle - many of them that brought <a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2008/10/breast-cancer-hope.html">hope</a> and some that brought <a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2012/01/reality-of-pink.html">angst</a>. All of them were in honor or celebration of her - and for a kick in the ass to the bastard of cancer.<br />
<br />
This post is no different.<br />
<br />
Amy is larger than life. From her colorful hair to her love of fancy rats, there is nothing about her that is not vibrant, interesting, and totally genuine. Each person that knows her would describe her essence as strong, witty, straight forward, authentic, dedicated, compassionate, and even snarky. As a woman with a teacher's heart, a deep and devoted faith, a compassionate heart for all of God's people and creatures, and a strong sense of right, her actions towards the world have influenced, touched, and nurtured her family, our larger family, friends, students, colleagues and even some she has never met.<br />
<br />
She is a force to be reckoned with in this world - in a good way. I say it again... She is amazing.<br />
<br />
On November 12, 2012 the world forever changed. After many valiantly fought battles, at the age of 45, Amy passed away of Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC). She fought through chemo and radiation and all of the possible side effects that come with both. She showed strength and grace as she pushed her tired body through the day to day as best as she could - volunteering, mentoring, running her rattery, being mom, wife, daughter and sister, singing on the worship team at her church. She fought hard, she fought long, and she fought admirably.<br />
<br />
My heart, our family's hearts are so heavy and our existence will never be the same. We no longer have the physical presence of Amy as mom, wife, sister, daughter, aunt, cousin, friend. We will forever miss her presence here and always long for more time with her. But, the force of Amy, her essence can't be defeated. In that we find some peace.<br />
<br />
<i>Through her fight, many were educated about Inflammatory Breast Cancer. Her teacher's heart wasn't stilled by the battle. </i><br />
<i><br />Through her fight, she showed strength and grace. Her spirit wasn't crushed by the battle. </i><br />
<i><br />Through her fight, she showed tremendous love for others. Her compassion wasn't soured by the battle.</i><br />
<i><br />Through her fight, she showed what it was let go of things out of her control. Her will wasn't destroyed by the battle. </i><br />
<i><br />Through her fight, she left the lessons, the words, the actions, and the seeds that her family needs to move forward and be strong and good men in the world. Her loving, nurturing and mothering were strengthened ten-fold by the battle.</i><br />
<i><br />Through her fight, her identity never became Amy, the <a href="http://www.mdanderson.org/patient-and-cancer-information/cancer-information/cancer-types/inflammatory-breast-cancer/index.html">Inflammatory Breast Cancer</a> patient. She was always Amy, who happened to have this battle present in her life. </i><br />
<i><br />Through her fight she remained rooted in her faith, even when she didn't understand why this battle was hers. The battle didn't destroy her trust and faith in God and her Salvation. </i><br />
<br />
She could not win every battle. But she NEVER lost the war. Today she is singing and enjoying the splendor of HIS courts. She is in perfect peace and whole. That is something that cancer could never take from her.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoI03O8mxJMCYNSaAbGzWNDHB4NXJ6Fn2QHuBE8iYT1NoEhuhck37_HvH-zeTdM5In9JKa2XflI_koFhPSQy_Th26CLp20Z_oT5UmvKMQSFBfrkzX-DMIY0fgxY7au2q9uREohnKe6Yw_m/s1600/542415_4471593593184_1401045319_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoI03O8mxJMCYNSaAbGzWNDHB4NXJ6Fn2QHuBE8iYT1NoEhuhck37_HvH-zeTdM5In9JKa2XflI_koFhPSQy_Th26CLp20Z_oT5UmvKMQSFBfrkzX-DMIY0fgxY7au2q9uREohnKe6Yw_m/s200/542415_4471593593184_1401045319_n.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't Let the Silence Continue</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Women, men, physicians - please learn about <a href="http://www.theibcnetwork.org/category/resources/">Inflammatory Breast Cancer</a> - IBC. There is so much progress in many areas of breast cancer research and treatment. We hear about that all of the time in the "pink" campaigns. What we don't hear is the dark side of breast cancer - the types of breast cancer like IBC, and that MOST women diagnosed with a cancer like IBC will die. Whether it is unpopular, unwillingness, or unawareness, this conversation in the breast cancer dialog is rarely had. The silence is killing women, and men.<br />
<br />
We knew about breast cancer. We didn't know about Inflammatory Breast Cancer. <br />
<br />
Learn more about Inflammatory Breast Cancer at:<br />
<br />
The IBC Network<br />
<a href="http://www.theibcnetwork.org/">http://www.TheIBCNetwork.org</a><br />
<br />
MD Anderson Cancer Center<br />
<a href="http://www.mdanderson.org/education-and-research/departments-programs-and-labs/programs-centers-institutes/inflammatory-breast-cancer-research-program/index.html">http://www.mdanderson.org/education-and-research/departments-programs-and-labs/programs-centers-institutes/inflammatory-breast-cancer-research-program/index.html</a><br />
<a href="http://www.mdanderson.org/education-and-research/departments-programs-and-labs/programs-centers-institutes/inflammatory-breast-cancer-research-program/index.html"><br /></a>
<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-63660963681947404082012-11-17T06:16:00.002-08:002012-11-17T06:16:11.098-08:00Thanksgiving Blessings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAG0k4I4fe45fFe801KZMnvXbxjihnm70a6PKLt05wbeLOnA9WbyadIE_Nc-_thMtQPV8Uzfzaxnr14SYrEVoDAv3NMzwYEzWhSmUDGkLtOmclsVY2liciRNK2xYtPvFYcP2XxO3DLX36m/s1600-h/100_0155.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">After the Turkey, stuffing and pie,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">I sit and reflect upon the year that's gone by.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">I count all my gains, gifts and blessings,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">and chose to forget my misfortunes and messings.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">I think of my family, husband, children and me,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">and know that we've been given more gifts than we need.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">A beautiful home, cars, and things all around,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">we all are so grateful for these blessings abound.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">But, these blessings of things don't satisfy my heart,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">and through these lines, I wish to impart,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">The things that are truly a blessing to my soul,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">are these intangible things that make me feel whole.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Like my children laughing and loving each other,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">and having them know they can count on their mother.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">For a husband who loves me in spite of my faults,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">and learned, just for me, a wedding day waltz.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">For a God who greater, could there never be one,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">who loves me so much that He sent me his Son</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">And a country where I am allowed to be me,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">the home of the brave and the land of the free.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">These things I don't own and could never have bought,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">but through their gain, great blessing I got.</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">After the turkey, stuffing and pie,</span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Will you sit and reflect on the year that's gone by?</span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Things are not always easy. It has been a tough year for many that are reading this. But, even among the hard times and darkness, there is room in our hearts for gratitude.</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><i>What are you thankful for this Thanksgiving</i>? </span></b></div>
</div>
Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-65476614825276623462012-11-10T06:34:00.001-08:002012-11-10T06:34:13.055-08:00NutellaDilla - Breakfast Made Easy for Busy Moms! <br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Quick and Easy Breakfast!</b></span></div>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.677204729989171" style="clear: left; float: left; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Whether our kids are 4 or 14, as moms we want them to start every day on the right foot. That can be challenging at times. Our kids have individual personalities that are particularly apparent when they get out of bed in the morning. With older kids and teens - the way the day starts can be affected by something as simple as the way the breeze is blowing. We do our best among the many factors that shape our children’s day. Many things we can’t control. But one of the things that we can do as moms is to provide and encourage them to eat a balanced breakfast to start the day - which in itself can be challenging. </span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kids have pretty strong ideas and opinions about what do and don’t like for breakfast. They may eat something one day and the next day decide they don’t like it anymore. We try cold breakfast, hot breakfast, gourmet, or simple. Oh what is a mom to do? </span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Why not make a balanced breakfast a treat with this yummy Nutella® Nutelladilla recipe?* It’s simple, it’s delicious, and for kids on the go running out the door, it can be very portable!</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><img height="218px;" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/ZAc0HUO-P7NmCzYJFMFw0jJodXtb_fJ6UOgG6iOqKUokC-TMuU43LOif7bdZpzGb330GUsilppuBHUuRKEgUAj8o-BXdeJ8Mn3SGG0a5mfwoYo-8Fyo" style="cursor: move;" width="290px;" /></b><b id="internal-source-marker_0.677204729989171" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><b id="internal-source-marker_0.677204729989171" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nutella® Nutelladilla</span></b><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ingredients:</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1 whole wheat tortilla</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">1Tbs Nutella</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">½ cup lowfat cottage cheese</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">⅓ bananna, sliced in pieces</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">3 strawberries, sliced in pieces</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Spread the Nutella® evenly across the tortilla. Spread the cottage cheese on one half. Place the banana and strawberry slices on top of the cottage cheese. Fold over and eat! </span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Variations: Replace whole wheat tortilla with a gluten free option. Replace cottage cheese with ricotta or other low-fat soft cheeses or yogurts.</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Make it transportable: For the older kid on the go... instead of folding, wrap like a burrito.</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The MOM Hat is the most beautiful and important one we wear when it comes to the daily lives of our kids. We do our best to wear it creatively, and lovingly. For even the most seasoned of us, every mom can use some fresh ideas. Check out the </span><a href="http://bit.ly/NHhVrg" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Nutella Breakfast Tour in Phoenix</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> November 24-27 for live demonstrations of how you can use Nutella to bring some yumminess to your family breakfast table. For information on event in other areas, </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/nutellausa/events" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">visit here</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Besides being able to include it as a yummy part of a balanced breakfast did you know these things about Nutella®?</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b></div>
<ul style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><b id="internal-source-marker_0.677204729989171" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;">
<li style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No preservatives or artificial colors</span></li>
<li style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">No peanuts</span></li>
<li style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Kosher certified</span></li>
<li style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; list-style-type: disc; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Gluten free</span></li>
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<b id="internal-source-marker_0.677204729989171" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For More informaiton about Nutella, visit </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/#!/nutellausa" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">https://www.facebook.com/#!/nutellaus</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #0a6fcf; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">a</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Click here to stay up to date with the latest Nutella news! </span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br /></i></span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><iframe allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" scrolling="no" src="http://www.facebook.com/plugins/likebox.php?href=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2Fnutellausa&width=400&height=290&colorscheme=light&show_faces=true&border_color&stream=false&header=true" style="border-bottom-style: none; border-color: initial; border-left-style: none; border-right-style: none; border-top-style: none; border-width: initial; height: 290px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; width: 400px;"></iframe></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">*This blog post is part of a paid SocialMoms and Nutella blogging program. The opinions and ideas expressed here are my own. To read more posts on this topic, </span><a href="http://nutella.socialmoms.com/" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">click here</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.</span><br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #222222; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></b></div>
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Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-7506721380164386242012-11-05T06:52:00.001-08:002012-11-05T06:53:12.864-08:00Stressful to Simple - Holiday Season Calm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlk6UwexS3ZDsWMm2Ni57JPThY9u4p1gSYTNjekR0B6p_lPntHmd2iWEl0bClotZVylwkx5rpLsq8DEIKrC8_nTWeX1zcf2_LjO2Z5RgB1b8H3P1hBZ0Ro9FuOe3J514A_H1eCl5nHiWdv/s1600/IMG_6898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlk6UwexS3ZDsWMm2Ni57JPThY9u4p1gSYTNjekR0B6p_lPntHmd2iWEl0bClotZVylwkx5rpLsq8DEIKrC8_nTWeX1zcf2_LjO2Z5RgB1b8H3P1hBZ0Ro9FuOe3J514A_H1eCl5nHiWdv/s320/IMG_6898.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Just about now the last of the Halloween candy is becoming scarce. The kids' pillowcases of chewy, chocolate, sour-sweet gummy treats is just about dry. And that extra bag of candy you bought... (you know the one; the nutty-chocolatey yummy kind) .... just in case there were more trick-or-treators than you'd expected, is empty.<br />
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<b>The sugar crash has begun - just as the "Holiday Season" is beginning.</b><br />
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November brings with it the onset of the season of parties, celebrations, presents, and LOTS of <b><a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/p/recipes.html">food</a></b>. It can be a joyous festive time of year. It's the time to spend time with family and loved ones. Giving and receiving special gifts and trinkets brings a sweet satisfaction as we see the wide eyed looks of awe on the faces of those who received the "perfect" gift. It is a magnificent time.<br />
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<b>It can also be a stressful one.</b><br />
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In the hustle and bustle of holiday season preparation, the abundant joy just waiting to be claimed is often lost. In our busyness of trying to create the perfect memory for our families and friends, we can lose sight of gift of sharing who we are, where we are. Buying the right gift, or cooking a 5-Star worthy meal becomes the focus - task centered instead of presence centered. What is supposed to refresh and restore us through sharing thanks and holiday cheer, can stress us and suck the energy out of us. That is, if we let it.<br />
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<b>Stressful to Simple</b><br />
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There are things we can do to reduce the stress. It can involve changing what we do and how we do it. It can also change how we chose to look at things. (By the way, changing what we do and how we do it, can also change how we look at things - double score! )<br />
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<b>Here are some ideas reduce stress by getting back to the simple. </b><br />
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<i>Create a Count-up project that you and your family can participate in.<b> </b></i>Instead of counting down the days (that focuses on time which translates for us, fewer days to get all we need to do done) create something that adds - a blessings and thanksgiving wreath or tree that reminds us off all that we do have, not the time that we don't have; a daily pocket change jar to be donated on a designated date that coincides with the holidays; or a progressive goal to honor someone such as walking a distance and increasing it each day till a set holiday- a show gratitude for the struggle and hard work done by those around us or those that have gone before. There are any number of things that can be done to remind of the blessings that we have. It's simple. It puts the stress in perspective. or a - ie Chanukah jar, holiday chain, thanksgiving tail feathers....<br />
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<i>Reduce the time in your kitchen - spend the time in kitchens feeding those less fortunate.</i><b><i> </i></b> If we have the means and time to purchase and prepare holiday meals and goodies, but our stress over the tasks robs us of joy, then spending time in a kitchen that feeds others just may be a solution. Serving those that may not otherwise have a holiday meal brings comfort to the others, a sense of purpose to ourselves, and good dose of perspective about the things we stress out at the holidays. If we have the means to purchase the holiday meal ingredients, there are lots of options for purchasing the <a href="http://www.azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/p/give-aways.html"><b>prepared family style meal</b></a>, and spending the time serving others. It's simple, it reduces stress, and it does good for others. (See the <a href="http://www.azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/p/give-aways.html"><i><b>giveaway</b></i></a> page for more info about prepared meals and a chance to win a gift card!)<br />
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<i>Make something from the heart</i>. If it is the stress of finding and buying the perfect gift, revamp your thinking about gift giving. Each year there are lists created of the "perfect" gift of the season. Still there is not a guarantee that the person will like the thing. Instead, give a gift from the heart. A handmade item or unexpected gift catches the attention. Include a handwritten personal note of why you <a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/p/diy.html"><b>chose or made</b></a> that particular gift and instantly, the gift has meaning. Be sure you are sincere... truly follow your heart, and the stress is replaced with the joy of giving. It's that simple.<br />
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At this time of year, don't focus on doing it all and being it all to everyone all of the time. As much as we'd love to create a Holiday Season straight from the pages of a magazine, realize that the value and the memory isn't in how perfect the things of the holidays are, it is in how precious and blessed each moment of them is. Move from stressful to simple this Holiday Season!<br />
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<i><b>What is the most stressful thing about the Holiday Season for you?</b></i><br />
<i><b>How do you reduce the stress and find the joy? </b></i> <br />
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<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-32665692101218940572012-10-19T16:20:00.000-07:002012-10-20T10:16:25.553-07:00Confession of a Human Mom - I Am Not A Saint! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidltpF6Nm3R3HYrDa7oNC9riSHgzyVs5j0uooOEjkpBvLc9wGKZ60SjdZCTxZU4l-IQaKUCDL2KJnzfsv5qdb_H2Zyk9FcNJ1wh6u9qFO-LbNd3oYZ1-1ZksJ1p5AU-9HzZcqoFj7aDpc2/s1600/selfless+selfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidltpF6Nm3R3HYrDa7oNC9riSHgzyVs5j0uooOEjkpBvLc9wGKZ60SjdZCTxZU4l-IQaKUCDL2KJnzfsv5qdb_H2Zyk9FcNJ1wh6u9qFO-LbNd3oYZ1-1ZksJ1p5AU-9HzZcqoFj7aDpc2/s320/selfless+selfish.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span class="huge">The natural state of motherhood is unselfishness. When you become a mother, you are not longer the center of your own universe. You relinquish that position to your children. ~Jessica Lange</span><br />
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<span class="huge">Sounds quite idealistic... doesn't it.</span> <br />
<span class="huge"></span><br />
<b><span class="huge">Mommy or Me - Selflessness or Selfishness? </span></b><br />
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<span class="huge">When I became a new mom and the ripe old age of 20, again at 24, and again at 27, each one of my children became the beacon of my life. My world revolved around providing a home, a life, and an existence for them. I was (and still am) passionate about them, dedicated to<a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2012/06/dear-daughters.html"> helping them grow</a>, responsible for providing them stability, and accountable for giving them the tools that they would need to be productive and contributing members of society. I gave my all to them, for many, many years. I was able to stay at home- we had reasonable financial stability, and my husband fully supported my desire to be an at home mom. My life, my existence, my passion, my interest, my career, my vocabulary, my interaction, my effort, my energy, my everything all flowed to one glowing ball of light.... my children. It was the natural state of "motherhood". The job of motherhood.</span><br />
<span class="huge"><br /></span>
<i><b><span class="huge">I must confess - it was not the natural state of my humanness. </span></b></i>
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Don't get me wrong - I loved that I was able to be in that place. I would not trade a single second of any of it. I am honored to be able to call myself Mom to three amazing women. <span class="huge">In the ideal days of mommyhood, I played the role well. I played it with heart. I played and lived it with every fiber of my being. I was happy in that. I had focus, I had purpose, and I had an audience - three little children who <a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2009/02/mediator-mommy.html">needed me</a> every second of every day. If moms could get Oscars - I think I would have been at least in the running for it. I was in the role, but I WAS the role. </span><br />
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<span class="huge"> </span><span class="huge">But I am not going to lie. As the kids started to grow a bit, I tried to keep the script and the ideal the same. But there came a point that I just wasn't driven or fed. Instead of joy with moments of work, it became work with moments of joy. My energy began to run low. My tank was empty. My kids were still the center of my universe, but my revolution around them began to grow weary. I became unhappy, lonely and empty. </span><br />
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<i><b><span class="huge">I lost myself. I questioned myself. I made these realizations about myself. </span></b></i><span class="huge"> </span><br />
<ul>
<li><span class="huge">I knew that how I felt had nothing to do with them or my relationship with them. <i>It had everything to do with my relationship with me!</i></span><i><span class="huge"> </span></i></li>
<li><span class="huge">I knew I had, did, and always would love them more than life itself. I would forever move heaven and earth if I could for their good. They were by far the most important human beings in my world, and as long as I was on this earth they would always be that. </span></li>
<li><span class="huge">I came to terms that there really were times in "mommyhood" that I wanted to just shut myself in my room and not be responsible. I called it needing a breather, needing a break or taking a time-out. The reality was I CRAVED time for ME - time that I neglected. </span></li>
<li><span class="huge">The idea of motherhood being hearts and flowers and puppy dogs and cute kids - it was a crock. Trying to make it look that way only led to failure and exhaustion. There were days when I really didn't care if someone judged me because my daughter wore a plaid flannel shirt, a floral skirt, and pink cowboy boots on the wrong feet to the store. She was covered and dressed. MORE IMPORTANTLY was that the battle of getting her that way was over. </span></li>
<li><span class="huge">I realized that I was jealous of all of the time and attention that I and their daddy could give to them, but I failed to give to me or us. It wasn't the green face of envy, but it was certainly a gnawing very quiet message of <i><a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2011/07/necessity-of-being-needed.html">I wish I had someone paying this attention to me</a>.</i> </span></li>
<li><span class="huge">What in some moments was my giving and existing in selflessness, felt like sacrifice in many others. (The difference in meaning and attitude surrounding those is huge.) </span></li>
<li><span class="huge">I questioned my own heart as to why I was not fulfilled in the way I thought I should be. </span></li>
<li><span class="huge">I faced that as much as I loved being Mom, there were moments that I just didn't like motherhood. </span></li>
<li><span class="huge">I realized that I needed to do the things that refreshed me and filled my pitcher. That way I could fill the cups of my children.</span></li>
<li><span class="huge">I realized that what I was experiencing was the natural state of HUMANNESS!</span></li>
</ul>
<span class="huge">It's ok to throw some selfishness in with the selflessness. It's the only way to not suffocate and to be able to grow and best serve in the role of mom. It's also the best way to grow yourself for the day when your mom role changes as kids launch into the world. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="huge">I like to and I need to feed my OWN spirit, my OWN goals, and my OWN self. There are
times when I want to be the center of the universe. Sounds pretty
selfish, I know. But it's true. It doesn't make me a bad mother - it makes me an honest and healthy one. </span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b>
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span class="huge"> I am a human Mom - not a saint. </span></span></b><br />
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<span class="huge"><i><b>Do you struggle with feeling selfish for needing some time for yourself? </b></i></span><br />
<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-17928060642485311162012-10-08T18:36:00.001-07:002012-10-08T18:36:49.457-07:00The Pink Haze - Awareness Is Cheap, Action is Priceless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9r-cOestPg_9Apeu58J3IgDEMNtKjLOjPLe_r_btGRxDgEwpQKdtZypEavGl2oCB6FRS9OpmghmbmoIUZAdLGYynIe5AAtTOTFFnnnNNGvUNxhOs9Qbkoh_6ogLRW-xUOxK0R9bIAhG8/s1600/action+october.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ9r-cOestPg_9Apeu58J3IgDEMNtKjLOjPLe_r_btGRxDgEwpQKdtZypEavGl2oCB6FRS9OpmghmbmoIUZAdLGYynIe5AAtTOTFFnnnNNGvUNxhOs9Qbkoh_6ogLRW-xUOxK0R9bIAhG8/s200/action+october.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<b>As most of you probably already know, October is <a href="http://www.nationalbreastcancer.org/breast-cancer-awareness-month">National Breast Cancer Awareness Month</a>. </b><br />
<br />
It seems almost impossible to NOT know. The stores are full of pink ribbons, pink products, and pink commercials. The lovely pink hue permeates just about everything, from retail, to media, to bumpers stickers, to T-Shirts, to bracelets. There is even controversy as people don slogans and sayings to work and school, supporting breast cancer "awareness", arguing a right to free speech when questioned about them. We walk charity walks, stuff donation jars, and get in the pink spirit. We eat, sleep and breath pink. Pink is a part of our landscape - and we are becoming immune to it.<br />
<br />
<b>We are in a PINK HAZE - all for awareness.</b><br />
<br />
But what about ACTION?<br />
<br />
Awareness is a good thing. But it means nothing without action.<br />
<br />
Women AND men are still dying of breast cancer. Yes... that's right... men can be diagnosed with breast cancer too. According to <a href="http://www.breastcancer.org/symptoms/understand_bc/statistics">BreastCancer.Org</a>, (visit link for more statistics)<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>1 in 8 women are affected by breast cancer. </li>
<li>Breast cancer is the most commonly diagnosed cancer in women (aside from skin cancer).</li>
<li>In 2011 there were more that 2.5 million survivors of breast cancer, but over 39,000 didn't survive. </li>
<li>Approximately 2,150 cases of breast cancer were diagnosed in men.</li>
</ul>
<div>
The point is, knowing about this doesn't change it. <b>Doing something about it does</b>. ACTION is what can change how this bastard of a disease affects women and men.<br />
<br />
<b>What are some of the action steps you can take? I am so glad you asked...</b></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DKKw96pad5FEb61eJW_U42FvI5gUM-QtyVJA8giZj6r6UegklOg5KMfxP-8kLMQVe4PaVMOVRIKFaNTOjeRJ_dn1CqOodPUftZKN9F008l-2dNKPj1ppMrfp4M7-LbIQJHk_n9JYu10L/s1600/IBC+Sister+Check+with+Credit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0DKKw96pad5FEb61eJW_U42FvI5gUM-QtyVJA8giZj6r6UegklOg5KMfxP-8kLMQVe4PaVMOVRIKFaNTOjeRJ_dn1CqOodPUftZKN9F008l-2dNKPj1ppMrfp4M7-LbIQJHk_n9JYu10L/s200/IBC+Sister+Check+with+Credit.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<ul>
<li>Get mammograms and other screenings, do self checks, and have clinical exams.</li>
<li>Support funding for research - know where your donation dollars are going.</li>
<li>Know that <a href="http://www.theibcnetwork.org/">breast cancer is not always a lump</a> and know other signs to look for- it can save lives. KNOW THAT THERE ARE OTHER SIGNS BESIDES THE LUMP THAT WE'VE BEEN TRAINED TO LOOK FOR AND LOOK FOR THEM. You are your own best advocate and know what is normal for you. (See the SISTER CHECK)</li>
<li>Learn about IBC (<a href="http://www.mdanderson.org/patient-and-cancer-information/cancer-information/cancer-types/inflammatory-breast-cancer/index.html">inflammatory breast cancer</a>.)</li>
<li>Talk to your doctor if you feel OR see any changes in your breasts.</li>
<li>Don't be embarrassed to tell your significant other if you see a change in your breast OR theirs. Sometimes a second set of eyes of someone who knows us intimately can be the difference between early and later detection. Cancer is not a solitary disease. </li>
<li>Support groups that make advances in the quality of treatment, the effectiveness of medications, the care of patients, and the support of families with loved ones in the battle is imperative to kicking the breast cancer monster's ass. </li>
</ul>
<div>
<b>Simple awareness is not enough.</b> In fact, too much awareness and not enough action becomes a problem in itself. It turns to a fad, a marketing tool, or even apathy. When we wear the pink shades, it just becomes part of our everyday view and doesn't stand out anymore. By being saturated with awareness, you could even say that we become less aware. </div>
</div>
<br />
<b>Take off your pink awareness sunglasses and put on your hot pink <span style="background-color: magenta;">ACTION</span> safety goggles.</b> It takes work and strength. But with active steps, advancement in the diagnosis, quality of life, treatment and cure for breast cancer can be made. Awareness of an issue is not the same as action on it.<br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>Awareness is cheap. Action is priceless.</i></b><br />
<br />
<b>Have you checked your breasts recently?</b><br />
<br />
For related posts please visit:<br />
<a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-sisters-cancer.html">My Sister's Cancer</a><br />
<a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2008/10/breast-cancer-hope.html">Breast Cancer Hop: My Sister's Story</a><br />
<a href="http://azmomofmanyhats.blogspot.com/2008/10/breast-cancer-hope.html">The Reality Of Pink</a><br />
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<br />Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1993875912325356887.post-46485877869644930562012-10-01T06:34:00.001-07:002012-10-01T06:34:36.967-07:00New Week Notions - Mountains<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUk0e9ScMbdaCTGS0jAVSh5DqmNGpBZ09y6Qq6PG3iMMnUmRVHtzUuq3Xj3P9Coa8kiGzZNxNP1zV9yzvqtMGRMzifkiIYjg0huD_hs_qiYXMw-TNMBm7YOeh6eBJ5KqX1qQypPv3PTKkw/s1600/mountains.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUk0e9ScMbdaCTGS0jAVSh5DqmNGpBZ09y6Qq6PG3iMMnUmRVHtzUuq3Xj3P9Coa8kiGzZNxNP1zV9yzvqtMGRMzifkiIYjg0huD_hs_qiYXMw-TNMBm7YOeh6eBJ5KqX1qQypPv3PTKkw/s400/mountains.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
In every phase of parenting, relationships, jobs, and life, we face mountains. They are an inevitable part of our travel on our own personal roads. However, as moms and dads, the mountains seem to have such a huge significance - there is so much more at stake. Parenting challenges, household finances, job stability, are constant inclines that seem never ending. We are not just climbing the mountains to meet our own goals or to strengthen our own selves. The climb has a different consequence. It affects the outcome and path of our children's lives. Than responsibility often looks so huge that we can see nothing else. We feel as if we are climbing mount Everest.<br />
<br />
Just for today, take a step back. Catch your breath. Survey the hill ahead. With a fresh view, you may see that what you thought was an insurmountable peak, is really just a foothill. You'll find the inspiration and the strength to put one foot in front of the other, until you've reached the peak.Angie Mozilohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05934039397414210531noreply@blogger.com1