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.

In The Blink Of An Eye

Where does the time go?

I thought it was only yesterday – but I guess I am wrong.  The memories are so clear and the feelings so real.  That day I brought her home – how can that have been 15 years ago?

As I have gotten older, time just seems to fly by. 

When my kids were young – when I was young, time just seemed to tick by so slowly.  The days, at times seemed endless. Running after little ones, doing laundry, and keeping the little ones occupied stretched the minutes, and often my patience to the limit. Tantrums, potty training, battles of the wills, bedtime drama, all left me worn and tired.  And although the days seemed so long, night and sleep never seemed long enough.

I remember the looking for, hoping for, and waiting for the next milestone with such anticipation.  Will she tie her own shoe today? Is today the day she will dress herself?  Is she going to have as much fun at school as I will have in my couple of hours of alone time? Anticipation, waiting, and rejoicing when the times finally came were the norm.  Not because I was anxious to have grown up children, but because I wanted to see them learn and grow.  And let’s be honest, as they grow, the physical demands of motherhood change.   As they hit those milestones, I looked forward to some of my own energy, time and sleep back.

But, now, it moves so quickly.  It was in the blink of an eye, my family grew up.  My little girls have become young women and are beginning to step out into the world as independents.  Each day passes by before I know it and I am one step closer to having grown three adults. 

It is a happy, but also a sad thing for a mom.  I still look with anticipation for the milestones they will hit – driver’s license, turning 18, graduating from college, starting a career.  I look forward to watching them spread their wings and soar, but I also feel the pang of not having them in my grip.  The desire to loosen my hold and the demands it brought are replaced by a desire to hold on and say “don’t go yet!”

Isn’t that the way?  The times we don’t want to end seem to end way too quickly. 

As  I watched my youngest daughter blow out the candles to celebrate her 15^th year of life, I was struck.  My time as the everyday, every action influence is limited.  It will move fast.  It will be gone before I know it, and I will have raised three beautiful and capable women. 

So for now, I will make the most of the time I have with them.  I will cherish every moment, each memory, and each milestone.  I will hope for them, dream for them, love them, and do my best to prepare them.  The days that I had to drag time along behind me have passed.  Now it runs in front of me, outpacing me.  I will hang on to the memories in my heart and mind, for I know that I can’t capture the time and keep it still.  

How about you? Has time passed by in the blink of an eye? How are you cherishing the moments? 

The Reality Of Pink

I dedicate this note to my sweet sister Amy and my three cousins who have battled or are battling Breast Cancer. I also dedicate it to my two aunts in heaven who both battled this disease.

I am spurred to write this as a response to a blog post I saw posted by my sister that talked about how we are "pinked out". The article is a fantastic blog post written by one who is doing their part to raise funds for the prevention, cure, treatment and awareness of breast cancer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for your efforts to that very special and dedicated person.

The "pink" movement has gotten a lot of attention. Just about anyone in the US who saw a pink ribbon would probably have some recognition with it in regards to breast cancer "awareness". It is a good thing that people know that breast cancer exists, and that they should get mammograms and do self checks. But simply being aware of it is not enough. Pink shouldn't just be seen as a pretty ribbon, a cute water bottle, or a trendy bracelet that has caused an uproar. Pink shouldn't just be limited to one month for people to be "aware" of breast cancer. Pink doesn't stand for something that happens to other people. It doesn't stand for a bonding experience you may have with another person on a fund raising walk. It doesn't stand for something that affects a certain sex.

The thinking needs to change. Pink should stand for reality. The reality that this could happen to you.

This is what pink should stand for. It should stand for the scars that women AND men carry on their bodies from surgeries to remove lumps, lymph nodes, and breasts. It should stand for the pink port-a-cath entry point where drugs are injected, that often themselves can have side effects. It should stand for the previously untouched by the sun skin on women and men who have lost or chosen to take control and get rid of the hair on their heads and the rest of their bodies. It should stand for the red, dry, cracked skin that may be a side effect of chemo for some. It should be for the radiation burns that can happen as a result of radiation therapy. It should be for the scars and the pain that the families, friends and loved ones have if they have lost someone to this disease. It should be for tired and hurting feet on the long road to treatment and recovery.

I get that people may read this note and think that I sound angry. I am. I am angry at cancer. But I am also angry at the watered down attitude that people have about this. I was one of those - until it happened to my sister, and three cousins -and untill there was a total of three out of five women in this generation on ONE side of my family with breast cancer.

Instead of a pink pretty ribbon, would a photo of a pink lumpectomy or mastectomy, a pink burn, a pink port, a pink scalp, a face pink from shedding tears, would those things get the attention and make people snap into reality? Instead of the recognition of pink as a breast cancer awareness marketing tool (and I use that in the sense of recognition) when will we snap into reality? Pink isn't a cutesie marketing and fundraising tool. Pink stands for WAKE UP PEOPLE! THIS COULD HAPPEN TO YOU!

Letting Them Go and Watching Them Fly

Letting Go

I like to think that my writing serves and inspirational purpose for those that read it. I think in many ways it does. But truth be told, often, I am writing to myself. What I am writing now, I hope will be inspirational or comforting to others, But, admittedly, it is cathartic. It is to help me through a particular phase in my life. Many of you may be in the phase too.

This phase of life is about letting go - specifically, letting kids go.

Milestones

My girls are now 22, 17, and 14. They are all at milestones in their lives. My oldest is moving out of state for a promotion with her employer. My middle daughter and youngest daughter are a senior and freshman in high school. All of these things are milestones for them.

These milestones are the beginnings of chapters in their lives that are teaching them who and how to be in the world. The are growing, exploring, and taking in the world around them as they are introduced to new ides and new people. They are in a part of their life when they can truly write the words on the pages that make up a huge part of their identity. Opportunities are theirs, unencumbered by obligations and anchors to geographical locations. It is a time when they can spread their wings and take in the wonderful world around them.

These are milestones for me as well. As proud as I am of them, for me in my role as mom, the milestones represent the closing of chapters in my life. Selfishly, I am sad for me that their dependence on me is changing. It is painful as I have to let a part of "me" evolve and change into who they are meant to be, apart from me. It means that I have to evolve into a person that I am not used to being - a person without three other beings in my presence and under my responsibility 24 hours a day. As they discover who they are, I have to rediscover who I am.

Pain and Joy

Although this is hard for me, I would never trade their growth and independence for my own desire to avoid the changes that come along with their blossoming into who they are in the world. God designed us to be want for our children the things that make them complete. It isn't easy, and it isn't fun. It is tough, but I will get through it. I am a mom, and that is what we moms do. We dig in, and we get the job done. What I can take solace in is that the pain of letting them go will be soothed by the joy of watching them fly.

What do you think?

Hat Trick Tips - Paper Beads!

Fun, easy, and inexpensive paper beads make a great summertime project to fill the "I'm bored!" time! Great for parents and kids. Your imagination is your only limit with this project!

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.

creative genius hat

It is 8:30 pm on a Thursday evening.

In a panic, one of my daughters comes to me because the project she is making just isn't working....something about glue, things not sticking, ripples in the paper - it's not clear in the emotion of the moment. The assignment is due tomorrow.

It is too late to go to the arts and crafts store to get new supplies. She is not satisfied with the supplies she has. The advice I am giving is going in one ear and out the other. If you have daughters you understand how that happens when they are in a highly emotional state.

So....out comes creative genius hat.

This hat is not necessarily creative in the sense that it bestows amazing artistic talent.

This hat is creative because it allows me to offer suggestions in a creative way that help her through the drama of the moment. It allows me to guide her in a direction that will help her accomplish her goal, but doing it in a way so that she thinks it is all coming from her own ideas. It helps me make suggestions, offer alternatives and present options that she can choose from to move her from panic to completion.

Now the funny thing about this hat is that I actually have three of them - one for each daughter. It has taken me many years to get the sizing and look of these hats just right - sometimes they still need adjusting. Each daughter responds differently to these hats. If I am wearing the wrong hat for the daughter I am working with, I go from creative genius to creative flop!

"Mom........."

Time to open the hat box - wish me luck!

EXTRA! EXTRA! News Reporter Mom

Wow….I’ve been M-I-A as far as posting about my hats.

Last week, our family dog, Fina was ill. We have had her for 6 years and she is an important member of our family.

We took her to the Vet on a Thursday afternoon. They ran a bunch of tests and sent us on our way. The following Friday night (of course as the kids and the household were closing down for the night) the vet called with the news. Our beautiful dog Fina was diabetic and having complications.

Then, I had to break the news to the girls. It was a long night after that.

The rest of the evening was filled with mad internet searches about canine diabetes and treatment, comforting broken hearts, and the life changes it would mean to all of us, if she was treatable. It also included what would happen if she was not treatable.

As moms, we are generally the bearers of much of the news that needs to be distributed to our families. Whether it is good news or bad news, news of a fun event or even the death of a pet, friend, or loved one, we moms have to find the right words to deliver the news. Even if we don’t deliver the initial message, we have to deal with the emotional ramifications and have to find a way to manage what has transpired.

This is not an easy Job!

We have to find the right words to actually convey the message, but, at the same time, filter our words so that they will be heard and understood by our children - with the least amount of pain. To add to the intricacies of this type of communicating is the fact that each one of our children are different, respond differently to situations, react differently to stress, grief, and conflict, and generally process things differently from one another. Not to mention, we have to manage our own feelings about the news.

There is no sugar coating the donning of this hat. It is not easy one to wear when the news is bad. However, just as with every other hat we wear, it is necessary to complete our wardrobes as moms.

The only advice I can give is when it is time to take this one out of the hatbox is to know your children, be honest with them, but also be aware of the words you are using. If you do, you will wear it effectively until it is time to put it back in its box.

P.S. We are treating Fina’s diabetes and she will hopefully have many more happy years with us.

Queen Of My Castle....Where's My Crown?

Welcome to my queendom!

Funny how when I type that word it is underlined in the obnoxious red line from spell check! Does it not recognize it as a valid word? If a kingdom is a real word, why can't a qeendom be? Am I not the queen of my castle?

I like to think I am.

I like to think that I have every inch of my castle, every subject in my rule, every thing that lives, breaths, or just is withing my walls, under control. Sheesh....what fairy tale am I living in?

Well, I don't think we are too far off from having queendoms.

Dictionary.com lists this as one of the many definitions of kingdom - "anything conceived as constituting a realm or sphere of independent action or control: the kingdom of thought. " Change that word, apply the same definition, and there you have it....we have queendoms.

If you think about it, as moms, we create the primary "sphere" from which our children view the world. We have control over what we let into our castles. We can censor the media we let it, we can make the "laws" that govern the actions within our realms, we can even (at least until t hey are tween-agers") dictate the style of dress we will allow within our reigns. We can monitor, shape, and to some extent rule our queendoms. Ahhh.....the power!

BUT.....

Along with this great power comes an even greater responsibility. Just as a good king should, as queen, we must have limitless loyalty to those we are responsible for. We need to make sure that our queendoms are healthy places for them to view the world from. We need to give them love, respect, protection, grace, mercy and opportunity so that not only they, but our queendoms can prosper.

Every morning, I get up and place my crown upon my head. I wear it with great honor. It is not a crown made of gold and gem stones, but a crown of responsibility and love, adorned by the three most precious jewels ever created!

"Do As I Say, Not As I Do..." Role Model Mama

Do as I say, not as I do!

How many times have you heard that? Maybe your parents said it. Maybe your teachers said it. Maybe your pastors, doctors, or role models said it. Was that ever an effective method to keep you from making bad choices?

Here's another question: How many times have you said that to your children?

I think by the time we are adults, we consciously realize that actions speak louder that words. We may hear a verbal message, but if the action contradicts the words, then the lasting impression is the one we saw, not the one we heard. If our family physician tells us to quit smoking, but wreaks of cigarette smoke, how seriously do we take the message? If our boss at work verbalizes empowerment and unity in the workplace, but does nothing to facilitate it, do we believe that she/he is willing to help us succeed in the company? If we claim to be loving and gentle spirited people, but yell, scream or flip the bird to someone who cuts us off on the freeway, what impression are we leaving?

I realized what I was modeling to my children one day while driving in the car. The person in front of my made a not-so-smart maneuver in their vehicle that could have caused a hazardous situation for us. My kids heard my gasp, and immediately, one of my girls exclaimed "Come on people!" the words I use when I am frustrated with another driver. (Boy, I'm glad I use those words and not some others!) She responded in that way because I respond in that way. Even though I try to teach them patience and kindness, she learned to react with frustration.

Now I know that is a small example of how my kids learn from my actions. They learn many of their own behaviors and actions from what they see me do. Through my actions, I teach them acceptable behavior, relationship skills, healthy living, study habits, basic living skills and even overall life attitude.

Now I could lecture them all day long on anyone of these things. But I guarantee, that if I am talking the talk and not walking the walk, my words will fall on deaf ears. If I speak of patience and kindness, then I need to act and react with mercy and grace. If I speak of the importance of education, then I need to make sure my kids see me learning. If I speak of the importance of healthy living, then I need to do my best to stay healthy in mind body and spirit. If I encourage them to spread their wings and fly, I need to stretch my own. If I'm not not living it, they are not listening to it.

So, I gladly accept my role model hat. I know that sometimes it will be sitting crooked or backwards on my head. It may even fall off from time to time. But if I do my best to keep it on and wear it proudly, my kids will ultimately learn the lessons I am trying to teach them.

Caffeinate Me!

"Medium mochajava, half-caf, soy, sugar-free, no foam, no whip, 115degree, latte - double-cupped and sleeved."

"Large caramel, skim, decaf, iced, upside down macchiato."

" Small drip. "

Isn't it amazing that there is a whole culture and language associated with coffee? This coffee culture looks and sounds something like this:

Inhabitants enter their caffeine habitat and form a long row, each facing the back of the next. They stand in silence, occasionally searching the clear glass vessels containing sustenance for the morning meal. Their eyes move from the glass vessels to tablets placed above them. They appear to ponder over their next move and how they are going to be successful in their hunt for nutrition and hydration. In turn, each steps forward until they are facing another inhabitant at the front of the row. The only sound heard is when the two communicate in a language understood only by other members of their culture. The language appears to only consist of adjectives, but somehow the communication is clear. The inhabitant in the line exchanges some currency - usually made out of some type of plastic, and within minutes, the morning hunt is complete. The inhabitant proceeds to either a designated eating area where an electronic device or informational material is observed; or to their transportation vessel where then they partake in fruits of their hunt - still in silence. -Mozilo, 2008


Now I must confess, that I am part of this coffee culture. I love coffee and even have my own special coffee shop that I frequent. I will stand in line with the rest, not saying a word to anyone until I am at the counter. I then sputter my favorite drink order - Venti, half-calf, sugar-free, soy, vanilla latte, no foam, no whip. I hand my cash (yes I do use cash) or my gift card to the cashier, and I am off on my merry way. Sometimes I sit at a table with my nose in a book, oblivious to the world going by me. Cell phones, conversations, and situations elude me as I retreat into my own little caffeinated cave. I become self-absorbed, introverted and disconnected with everyone around me.

Not long ago, it dawned on me how many opportunities for connection that I was missing. By hiding out behind my latte I was shielding myself from relationship with people that I saw almost every day. I decided to make an effort to be more aware of the people around me at the coffee shop- what they looked like, what their lives might be like, how often I actually came in contact with them and hadn't ever uttered a word to them. But, how could I connect?

Then the idea of all ideas struck me! I could open my mouth and just talk to them. At first it was a little intimidating. I wasn't sure of what to say. That underlying fear of rejection that most of us seem to carry around would rear it's ugly head and I would want to clam up. But not too long after I implemented my brilliant idea, I began to see the rewards roll in. I began to feel better through connecting with others. By stepping out of my "coffee culture" I began to find people that similar interest and life stories and situations as I did. I built a "coffee community."

What are some ways that you can connect and build community with others? Do you have any fears about talking to people you don't know? I challenge you to find one or two people to connect with today through conversation, e-mail or a letter. When you have, post a response at let other's know what your experience was like.

I'm looking forward to reading about how it went!

P.S. If you are really nervous about talking to a new person, have a double espresso....you will have no shortage of words :)!

The Baby Pooped on My Party Clothes!

Oh...It seems like yesterday.

We had just spent the summer with my parents. I couldn't wait to be back home with my husband whom I missed terribly. My girls, likewise missed their daddy and were anxious to be home with him.

We boarded the plane looking fresh and crisp in our nice white summer clothes. The girls were wearing matching white shirts with sweet little green frogs that I had just happened to find in all three sizes. I was wearing crisp white linen shirt and white cotton shorts that showed off my summer tan. Two of my girls sat nicely reading the books we brought for the trip, and I sat next to them with the youngest seated on my lap. We were quite a site, and I must admit, I did feel a little bit proud of how put together we looked.

Two hours and forty-five minutes of the three hour flight had passed. My three girls could have been mistaken for the angels in the heavens. I was daydreaming of the re-uniting of our family in the airport, my husband admiring his beautiful family and looking adoringly at me......then it happened. That unmistakable sound, that unforgettable feeling - the diaper blowout! Not just a small leak, but the absolute, debris all over the highway, ridin' on the rims, blown tire of the diaper mishaps right in my lap - just as we began our final approach. I had no choice but to sit in my seat, baby, poop and all, and worry about cleaning it up later.

In an instant, the beautiful family portrait had been shattered by a faulty diaper unable to stand up to the challenge of a still nursing baby. -Moms, I think you get the gist of this.

Sometimes it seems like life flows so smoothly. We feel like we have everything under control. Jobs, family, relationships, friends, you name it, we got it. But then something happens that rattles us; maybe even shakes us to our core. There is a sudden shift and the things we held together so efficiently appear to fall apart. We are left standing in a pile of the pieces of our life, not knowing where to start to put it back together.

But in time, we find that first piece to pick up. We dust it off, smooth some of the shattered edges and begin to build again. Piece by piece, we re-construct our selves. Maybe our lives will never be exactly as they were. But what we learn through the process of rebuilding can make us stronger than we were before. We shore up the walls of our lives with the perspective, empathy, sympathy, knowledge, strength, wisdom, and compassion that we have gained through our trials. We, in a sense, become a new and beautiful creation.

Now in the scheme of life a dirty pair of shorts is certainly not a major life crisis. It certainly has not been the biggest crisis in my life. Every one of us struggles with trials every day. Some may be bigger than others, but never the less, they are all difficult.

I challenge you to reach out to someone you know that may be struggling. Send a note, post a response, make a phone call...your experiences may help that person through theirs.

P.S.
Back to the shorts....they never were exactly the same. But on the bright side, they ended up matching the green frog shirts!

Is There Anything I'm Good At?

Boy! Some days I feel like I'm just not any good at anything!

This morning I woke up 45 minutes late. My kids in turn were running late to school. My house was (still is) a mess - didn't get the dishes unloaded last night or the laundry done or the miscellaneous clutter put away. As I picked up a friend to take to our Women's Group at church, I apologized profusely for the mess that my car was...and for being late. I over-scheduled my youngest daughter's activities for the weekend, forgot to pick up my middle daughter's glasses, again didn't get to the grocery store, and realized that we are having a family birthday party in two days that I haven't even begun to plan for. Can't I get anything right?

I bet a lot of women have mornings like this.

In the midst of all the things we think we are doing poorly, it's really hard to see the things we are doing well. We are so busy taking care of so many things each day, that we lose perspective. Routines take over...for many of us, it is like running on auto pilot, and we fail to see that what we are doing takes talent and skill. Sometimes (especially for moms of younger kids) it seems like our brains have gone to mush and we couldn't pull out an intelligent thought to save our lives!

Well, LETS CUT OURSELVES SOME SLACK!

There are so many things that we are good at - even experts at. For those of us that have kids, we can honestly say that we are experts on our children. We are the experts of our households. We are the experts of ourselves. Some of us are experts in the kitchen. Some of us may be experts in crafting. Some of us may be experts in teaching, organizing, listening, business, fitness....you name it. Every one of us can find something that we are an expert at.

We shouldn't feel like we are boasting to admit that we are good at things. We shouldn't be embarrassed to say "I make the best"....or, "I am really good at"....or, "I know a lot about...". We certainly shouldn't worry that we might be judged if we recognize our own strengths.

So, here is a challenge:
Find three things today that you can say you are good at and don't be afraid to let someone know - call a friend, e-mail, post a response.

The three things I can think of today are:
I am an expert at loving my children. I know a lot about saving money. I make a rockin' spaghetti sauce.