Launching Planets

Today I dropped my youngest child off to take her SAT tests.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Memorial Day 2014

A Memorial Day Walk
Photo By  Rebekah Mozilo

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 - Woman Up Movement, and launching my children into the world as self sufficient and good human beings.

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.

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.

A Memorial Day Walk

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.

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.

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.

But, as we we walked through the headstones and eventually parted directions, my focus shifted as I began reading the epitaphs.

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.

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.

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.

They're Watching...

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. She told me that example inspires her to step out with just a bit more effort than she THINKS she has. That moment showed me how important my example to my daughters is and how important it is for me to recognize my own determination.

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

 "Nothing ever has to be permanent. ~ My Mom"

That showed me how impacting and lasting my words to my daughters can be. 

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.  That showed me the importance of teaching them life skill and responsibility.  It stays with them as the step off into the world.

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.  

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.  

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. 

Remember - they're watching...

Parenting My Reflection

 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.

Of all of the parenting moments, the challenges taught me the most.

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.

You should note that I didn't say our children challenge us as parents. 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 had the immediate and very clear realization that I was parenting my reflection.  That was not easy.

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.

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.

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. 

Was it easy or did it take any less effort? ABSOLUTELY NOT! 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.

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.

Confession of a Human Mom - I Am Not A Saint!

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

Sounds quite idealistic... doesn't it. 

Mommy or Me - Selflessness or Selfishness? 

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 helping them grow, 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.

I must confess - it was not the natural state of my humanness.

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. 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 needed me 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. 

 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. 

I lost myself. I questioned myself. I made these realizations about myself. 

• I knew that how I felt had nothing to do with them or my relationship with them.  It had everything to do with my relationship with me! 
• 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. 
• 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.  
• 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. 
• 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 wish I had someone paying this attention to me.  
• 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.) 
• I questioned my own heart as to why I was not fulfilled in the way I thought I should be. 
• I faced that as much as I loved being Mom, there were moments that I just didn't like motherhood. 
• 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.
• I realized that what I was experiencing was the natural state of HUMANNESS!

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.

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.

 I am a human Mom - not a saint. 


Do you struggle with feeling selfish for needing some time for yourself? 

They Said It Would Get Easier - They Lied...

I am in the midst of sending the second of my three daughters off to college and into the world.

In my years of parenting older teens, as the college years approached, I always heard that it gets easier as each one goes.  Friends with good intentions gave me advice, freely recounting their momentous experience of finally being empty nesters. They told me that with each flight, a bit of freedom came. By the time the third little birdie flew the nest, I'd be a pro and barely bat an eye.  In fact, they said that I'd probably do a happy dance as she ventured off into the world.

It gets easier? I could not agree less!

My first went off and it was hard. I missed her terribly, but the emotion that took over was fear.  I questioned if I had given her the right preparation for life to manage on her own.  I worried for her safety and well being to the point of not sleeping.  Daily I questioned who I was as a parent and if I had done my job and given her the right tools to succeed, be happy and be healthy.  I obsessed on if she was getting to and from class safely, if she was figuring out how to be on her own, if she was going to class, and if she was getting enough sleep.  I battled that for months. After a few life lessons and knocks that she worked out and walked her way through, I realized that I had given her what I could to figure out how to be in the world.  She'd call sometimes for guidance, but I knew in my heart that she would be successful in whatever she did. She was strong, able and capable- we saw her triumph.

Ok... I got the parenting thing down. I don't question that much anymore.  But now my second is going off and it is hard for me.  I know I have stocked the life tool box and shown her how to use them.  She will make the choices of when and how to use them - she will figure that part out.  Surely I'll worry about the things that I did with the first, but not in the same way or to the same degree.  But still, it is hard, but in a different way.

My angst this time is not centered on safety and well being.  Since I experienced that with the first, fear is not the dominant emotion - I processed that already and know how to manage it.  Feeling confident in my parenting and how I prepared them has left time for a different type of emotion.

This time a difficult mixture of sadness and joy is dominating.  I feel the sadness of grieving of turning over my precious child to the world.  I feel the grief of remembering the child that was held nearly every second of every day until she was 2 1/2 stepping out of my physical grasp.  I feel the grief of sending my child who didn't want to be the center of attention, didn't want to play on a soccer team because she thought there would be boys on it, and didn't want mom and dad to make a big deal publicly out of things, into a phase of life that pushes each one of those areas in her life. I feel sadness because I know that I am sending her into a world where she will have to play on teams she doesn't always like, because she will have to stand out on her own and shine, and that at times, she will need to step into the spotlight.

I also feel great joy in each of the things I grieve, because I know like our first, she will be triumphant.   There is joy because I know that I, along with her dad, have helped her to be a strong and independent woman.  I feel joy, because she is embracing life, taking a risk, and figuring out who she is.  I feel joy because I know that in parenting her and her sisters, we have prepared them for life and the world.

So I say to all those that told me that it get's easier - either you were trying to soften the blow,  you truly couldn't wait for your children to leave, or you refused to face how difficult it really was.  Our children our extensions of us.  They will become their own people and make their own path in life if we have prepared them well.  But when we send them off, we are sending parts of us with them - and it is painful.

The good news is, in the pain, there is growth - for us and for them. Even though pain is not something we  usually choose to walk into, I will gladly accept the discomfort. There is great reward in the end.

Dear Daughters...

Dear Daughters...

You have many paths and opportunities before you in life.  You are amazing and beautiful creatures, full of love full of life, and full of the ability to to great things in life.  Your hearts for others and for good are shining beacons in this world.  You are brilliant, you sparkle, and you are dazzling.

The greatest gift you can give yourself is to take the risk, the adventure and the experience of walking those roads independently for a time.  Take the opportunity to show yourself of what YOU are capable of.  This is a gift you will treasure in your life, and it will do you much good.

However, I know that there will probably be a time that you want to share those with someone else.  You will be venturing on a new path and a new experience...finding "the one".  That road can be scary and confusing.  But, from mom to daughter, woman to woman,  I impart this advice to you.

The ONE Will:

• Be passionate about you, not possessive over you.
• Complete your feeling of love, but not you.  He will compliment the completeness of who you already are.
• Court you, even after he has your heart.
• Love you for who you were, who you are, and who you will become - not for who you could be. 
• Not step in to fix things for you without asking, but instead support your foundations, allowing you to make the repairs on your own.
• Know when your need to be heard is more important than his need to speak. 
• Consider your feelings in the decisions he makes.
• Stand up and protect you, yet not shelter to so that you don't experience the world.
• Put you on a pedestal, yet hold the ladder steady for you when you need to climb down and be human and flawed - and he will love that about you.
• Respect your boundaries.
• Not prod your painful spots, but work to be the salve that helps them heal.  
• Not try to change you.
• Know when he needs to be your Knight and when you need to be the one at the reigns calling the shots. 
• Trust, cherish, desire and empower you.
• Be committed to you and want to work through the tough times when they do arise - which should not be often.
• Support you in your efforts and successes.
• Comfort you in your falls. 
• Encourage you to reach for your dreams, and not be jealous or intimidated when you reach them. 
• Be your safe place where you can let your hopes, fears, desires, ideas,wishes, dreams, and frustrations be heard without fear of being judged. 

It takes a bit of time and effort to recognize these things. Many of them take practice to hone and truly live out in a relationship.  But, if you don't see at least a seed, a glimmer, a spark from the beginning, step back and take a look. If they are not there at all or if they are not growing, they may never be what you need.  Don't place your hopes in them appearing "someday" and you being able to grow those seeds or ignite those sparks. They are inherent in the one for you - and in you if you are the one for them.

Relationships take work, but should never be a constant struggle or battle -  especially early on. Don't ever, EVER sell yourself short on what you are worthy of in a relationship.  You were beautifully and wonderfully made. The one will recognize the prize that you are.

One more thing....

He will always open the door for you.

Always Remember - A Memorial Day Walk Through the Cemetery

A Memorial Day Walk
Photo By  Rebekah Mozilo

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.

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.

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.

But, as we we walked through the headstones and eventually parted directions, my focus shifted as I began reading the epitaphs.

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.

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.

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.

Fortyness - When you Stumbled

To my beautiful daughters, I love you forever.

When you were two and you stumbled,
I picked you up
and cradled you until you were all right again.

When you were eight and you stumbled,
I held out my hand to you to raise you up
and hugged you until you were all right again.

When you were sixteen and you stumbled,
I got down on the ground with you and encouraged you until you were back on your feet
and held your hand until you were all right again.

Now, when you stumble,
although my heart breaks and wants to pick you up and cradle you,
I meet your eyes, encouraging you,
knowing that you have the strength to place your feet beneath you and raise yourself up
and I love you through it, until you are all right again.

Photo by Becky Mozilo

Fortyness - Walking a Mile in Their Shoes

If you are a mom, you know that no one knows your children better than you do. You have the intimate knowledge of them to know just by looking at their eyes that they have strep throat or a sinus infection. You know from the moment they come out of their rooms in the morning whether they are going to have good days or bad days. You know by their stature when they walk in from school or away from a chat on the computer if they are dealing with friend issues, heartache or disappointment.

I have three beautiful Baby Hats, A,B, and C. They were precious baby girls that are now turning into amazing young women. Am am in awe everyday of who they are and what they are becoming. They will truly make a difference in the world in some way. I couldn't be more proud of them.

Being a woman I have always felt like I had an advantage raising girls. I know that many of the things that they will experience will be the same things that I experienced growing up. Heartbreaks, hormones, homework - I can relate. Friendships, fearing the future, feeling awkward at times - I've been there. Sadness, success, silliness of being a teenager - this mom has lived that too. I understand the intricacies and bonds surrounding growing up with sisters. I know the insecurities, the joys, the quirkiness and challenges of growing from a girl into a woman.

I know my babies intimately. I know their hearts.

However, as well as I know them, I know there is much that I don't know about them. They may not reveal every fear, every joy, every interest, or every concern to me. My desire in my fortyness is to know them even more. I want to know them more to help them navigate the roads that lie ahead of them in life. Even though I have traveled them, their own experiences change the terrain. In order to guide or even walk with them, I want to be familiar with the roadblocks, u-turns and forks that they may have to negotiate.

This year on my birthday, I am giving each of my daughters a gift. I am giving them a pair a canvas tennis shoes in my size and a pack of permanent markers. As a gift to me, I am going to ask them to put on these shoes, all the things that make them who they are - hopes, dreams, fears, disappointments, successes and failures. Whether they choose to simply write words or create pictures to represent, it doesn't matter. This is something for them to express who they are...so I can know them better.

When they are done with these shoes, I hope to be able to be a better mother to them. I hope to be able to understand their hearts even more. I hope to be able to have a deeper connection with them as I put the gifts on my own feet and walk a mile in their shoes.

She's a Knitter, I'm a Twitterer

The other day I was sitting in Starbucks with my beautiful daughter. We were sharing some mother daughter time, enjoying coffee and chit-chatting, all the while each mindlessly engaged in our preferred hobbies.

I noticed that we were getting some pretty strange stares from the other coffee connoisseurs. As people would pass us, they would stop, look and move on. At first I thought they were admiring a mom and teenage daughter sitting together on a Saturday morning. But when a fellow patron stopped and asked me about my hobby, then I realized what everyone was looking at.

In front of my daughter was her yarn, needle and a partially knitted hat. In front of me was my new netbook with the twitter update page open.

I am sure it looked like a generational mix-up. My tech savvy, i-pod wearing, facebook socializing, computer generation daughter was engaged in a timeless and traditional hobby. And there was me, the close-to (but not accepting of) middle aged, hair-band era, learned to type on a typewriter, "how the heck do you text" mom, typing out 140 character updates faster than my brain could think.

I know this isn't some freaky-Friday kind of body switch or a case of each of us trying to be and age that we are not. When I think about it, this is a perfect example of cross generational learning. We have each been taught a skill from each other's generations. From mine, she learned to craft pieces of yarn into beautiful hats and scarves. From hers, I have learned to appreciate technology and cyberspace. We are both more understanding and well rounded people because of the knowledge we have shared.

So I say to all of those that stared - it's OK if She's a Knitter and I'm a twitterer.

Christmas Cookies

I spent the better part of the last two days making batter and dough for a barrage of Christmas cookies and confections.

By the time the cookies were made, my kitchen looked like a winter wonderland, covered in white - wintry and powdery. Trees, snowmen, snowflakes and fluffy pillowy mounds as far as the eye could see, covered our domestic landscape. Unfortunately, 'twas not snow nor the things that holiday songs sing of, but alas a messy, sticky mixture of flour, powdered sugar, baking soda and baking powder - and dozens and dozens of sweet snacks.

The two day long process of preparation for this baking blitz dragged on and on. One mundane baking task after another slowed the flow of the weekend down to the speed of molasses. Mixing, folding, stirring, sifting; whisking, washing, wiping, sweeping - one job after another until finally it was baking time.

With the help of my daughters, we carefully chose the best cookie cutters to use that would flatter our cookie platters. Frenzied flouring of cutting boards and rolling pins made way to carefully planned out arrangements of the cookie cutters. Onto the pans, into the oven, and up on the cooling racks went our cookies. In what seemed like a few moments, we had used all of our dough, and the baking was complete.

In all, the baking took my girls and me about 2 1/2 hours to complete. But because I was in the company of my precious daughters, I lost track of the time. What would have seemed like an eternity in the kitchen had I been by myself, passed by in the blink of an eye. I was lost in the enjoyment of seeing their creativity, cooperation and Christmas spirit.

Each year this tradition in the kitchen with my daughters passes by so soon. But the memories will live on forever, of my girls and me, baking Christmas Cookies.

Tongue Tied Tuesday - AZ Mommy's Angels

"We're ready for our next assignment...Mommy!"