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.

The ToolBox - Fill the Box Now, Be Their Friend Later

“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.” 

― Anne Frank

I would love it if I could give my kids everything they wanted...

But I can't. 

Even if I could, I wouldn't. My conscience, my judgement, my heart, and my parental responsibility would not let me. 

I would love to be my children's best friend...

But I can't.

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. 

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.... 

But I can't.

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. 

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.  

The truth: That is the easy road for you. It also creates a tougher road for them when they are out in the world. 

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. 

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 situations that are less than what you would like them to be, and earn your successes.  

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

It's not an easy job, but you are the best and most influential person for the job. 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. 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.

Be their parent now.  Your reward of being their friend will come. 

Stop Super Stuffing Stockings!

Oh how I loved digging through my holiday stocking that hung on our stone fireplace!

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.

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.

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.

In the rush and bustle of the season, 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. (Check the Quick Tip page for more back to basics stocking stuffers). 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

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.

Do you have any stocking traditions?
What Do you remember from your own childhood Christmas stocking?

For Amy

This is not a typical post for AZ Mom of Many Hats.

But, Amy is not a typical person.  She is my sister. She is amazing.

I have posted about Amy several times before over the last five years.  The first post My Sister's Cancer being about finding out in February 2008 that she was diagnosed in Stage IV Inflammatory Breast Cancer - 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 hope and some that brought angst. All of them were in honor or celebration of her - and for a kick in the ass to the bastard of cancer.

This post is no different.

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.

She is a force to be reckoned with in this world - in a good way.  I say it again... She is amazing.

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.

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.

Through her fight, many were educated about Inflammatory Breast Cancer.  Her teacher's heart wasn't stilled by the battle.  

Through her fight, she showed strength and grace. Her spirit wasn't crushed by the battle. 

Through her fight, she showed tremendous love for others.  Her compassion wasn't soured by the battle.

Through her fight, she showed what it was let go of things out of her control.  Her will wasn't destroyed by the battle. 

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.

Through her fight, her identity never became Amy, the Inflammatory Breast Cancer patient.  She was always Amy, who happened to have this battle present in her life. 

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.   

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.

Don't Let the Silence Continue

Women, men, physicians - please learn about Inflammatory Breast Cancer - 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.

We knew about breast cancer.  We didn't know about Inflammatory Breast Cancer.

Learn more about Inflammatory Breast Cancer at:

The IBC Network
http://www.TheIBCNetwork.org

MD Anderson Cancer Center
http://www.mdanderson.org/education-and-research/departments-programs-and-labs/programs-centers-institutes/inflammatory-breast-cancer-research-program/index.html

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.

Little Pieces of Joy

My co-workers laughed at me the other day.

Now this was not mean spirited. It was not done out of an attempt to embarrass or humiliate me. Nor was it done out of spite.

I think I just took them by surprise with a comment. Maybe it was shock that a grown woman would say such a thing. Maybe it was the true honesty and simplicity that accompanied my words. Maybe it was that what I said truly warmed their hearts.

This statement I made wasn't controversial. It was not amazingly wise or witty. It was not even a statement of great importance. It would not cause the world to stop spinning. It would not bring and end to the financial crisis. It certainly would not bring everlasting peace to the world.

Are you ready to hear what the statement was?

Are you sure?

Can you handle it?

Here it goes.....

Candy corn makes me happy!

That's it. Candy corn makes me happy.

I guess when you hear that you may chuckle, scratch your head or even think that it is juvenile. I may have had the same response as my co-workers if I heard one of them making the same comment.

The truth of the matter is, that it does make me happy. It could be that the colors of the candy corn are happy and cheerful - white, yellow and orange. The candy is so loaded with sugar that maybe my brain links the sugar high with the candy and sends out happy messages. Perhaps it is because at an instinctual level, the association between taste and pleasure is so strong that thinking of the candy brings on a subconscious wave of good feelings.

I think it has nothing to do with any of that.

The things I think of when I see or taste candy corn are things that truly make me happy. I think about the town I grew up in and trick-or-treating with friends (we weren't in a high-dollar neighborhood so candy corn was a Halloween standard.) I think of my grandma's table at Thanksgiving and the bowl of candy corn that always accompanied the pies and deserts after dinner. I think of the family gathering together and enjoying time together. I think of all of the cute little fall crafts that my children have made for me over the years - the candy corn with the google eyes and the turkeys with pine cone bodies and candy corn feathers.

These little kernel shaped candies are like little pieces of joy to me.

As I said, my statement isn't of great importance. In the great scheme of life, a love of candy corn will not have great impact. It will not reverse global warming or fix the world's problems.

But, for me, it makes me happy!

P.S. Maybe if candy corn made everyone in the world happy, that peace thing could come about.....Something to think about!