As the end of the summer has come, so have some big transitions.  Friends of my youngest son (17) are headed off to college.  His very best friend his entire life is also named Matthew and is the son of one of my closest friends.  He is a year older and when I found out I was having a boy, I told my friend that I wanted to name my son Matthew too.  I said, “It’s not like they will be friends.”  Well they have been as close as brothers and today he came to say good-bye.  They hugged and promised to video chat (the new coolest thing ever). I have loved this boy like a son and I was very choked up to send him off.  For his graduation I had a silver pendent made with his initials engraved and he says he never takes it off.  I feel like he is taking a bit of us with him.  Hopefully he will feel our love and support. 

I know many of you have or will arrive at this junction. My last child just started his senior year in high school …sort of the beginning of the end, as we know it. It is crazy how when you have small children and you are running around like an insane person everyone tells you how quickly it all goes. Unfortunately there is no way to really comprehend that until you get there yourself and find out that everyone was right. We went to a potluck with the people on our street last weekend and I think my husband and I were most likely thought of as “that older couple”… trippy…

Luckily, I suppose, those teenagers drive you crazy and stress you out enough so you are ready to send them off when the time comes. It’s like pregnancy. When you first find out, you think OMG what will I do or you are thrilled to be pregnant and can’t imagine not loving every second of it. By the time you hit 9 months you have had enough and you just want the baby out. Same goes for teens. You would be hard pressed to send off your sweet 12 year old.  I feel like I will be ready by this time next year, but I am going to try and soak up as many moments as I can. I do know (from experience) when you send your kids off to college you are so filled with hope, love and pride that it helps with the loss.

So as cliché as it is to say, time does go by so fast, so soak up the moments. That way, when it is time for the big transitions in your family, you will have a stockpile of great memories to hold onto.

BY JENNIFER RAWLINGS

I asked my daughter Courtney what I should write about today for Hybridmom. Without taking a breath she said, “Write about family dinners”.

I paused for a moment and said, “Why should I write about family dinners? Explain to me what they mean to you.”

“Family dinners are my favorite part of every single day. I hate when I am not at home to have dinner because I know I am missing out on something special.”
Courtney’s passion and enthusiasm for “family dinner” time took me by surprise. She is a teenager after all and is not shy about expressing her dislike for EVERYTHING. Family dinnertime is a priority to my husband and I but I didn’t realize that our kids loved the tradition as much as we did.

Five to six nights a week the entire family sits down together for dinner. There is no television and there are no computers, ipods, books or telephones allowed at the dinner table. If my husband is working late then we wait to have dinner when he gets home. The most important ingredient in a family dinner is that the whole family be together. The food can be anything – usually I cook but the ritual works just as well over take-out or even sandwiches.

I always knew that psychologists and “experts” talked about the importance of the “family dinner table” but I never realized the real impact that it was having on my kids.

Courtney explained to me, “Even if my friends live in a huge mansion, with normal parents , they don’t sit down and have dinner as a family. At my friends’ houses everyone eats when they are hungry and no one really talks to each other over food.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised.

“Yes,” continued Courtney, “and the reason I love to invite my friends over for dinner is because they love our family dinners, too. Our family looks so crazy at first with all the kids and the dog and the chaos but when we all sit down together and talk about our day it’s magic and it makes everyone instantly happy.”

I couldn’t believe my ears – was my daughter actually acknowledging that I had done something right? Did a few minutes sharing a meal actually help my kids find their “center”?

My daughter’s appreciation for ‘family dinner” was a big “ aha moment” for me as a mom, a spouse and a friend. I realized that most of us measure our success in big chunks, but our kids are measuring our success as parents on the small and simple moments that we take to focus on one another, each and everyday.

This is my son Elijah- celebrating a family dinner ( after a swim)

by Angie Mizzell

My friend, Beth, and I were standing at the edge of the water, digging our toes in the sand and watching her son and my husband take turns.

The boys would get a running start and then throw down the boogie board. As the board skimmed atop the water, they’d catch up with the board and hop on. Sometimes they caught a little ride. And sometimes, they fell.

“I going to try it, but I know I’m going to bust my butt,” Beth said.

“Not me,” I said. “I have no desire to inflict personal pain.” It was a windy day at the beach. I looked out and saw someone kite surfing, jumping the waves. It looked like a blast, but I had no desire to do that either. With some things in life, I’m perfectly content to stand on the sidelines. I’ll cheer you on, but don’t try to get me out there with you.

About six years ago, this same group of friends drove 45 minutes out of town to go skydiving. It was a 30^th birthday treat for Beth’s husband, Patrick, and I opted out that day, too. I was there to celebrate– safely on the ground.

I am not a thrill seeker.

But as I stood on the beach this weekend, watching my friends have fun, it occurred to me that I’m not afraid to take risks. I’ve changed careers. I’ve built a business with no prior experience. I’ve driven a moving truck (that was towing a car) across the country. I give my heart freely. I avoid physical pain like the plague, but I’m willing to take a chance that my heart will be broken. Or that the dream I’m pursuing may never come to pass.

I listen to my gut, and ultimately, I trust. I’m sure that’s the same type of gumption it takes to jump out of airplanes or ride a wave. You have to push the fear aside and decide whatever happens, it’s worth the risk. You have to determine if the price of admission is worth the ride.

So are you a risk taker and/or a thrill seeker? What compels you to dive outside your comfort zone?

Today while battling a stress headache, guilt for missing my group run again this morning, and trying to scrub the kitchen floor… my 2 year old son Gabriel came over to me, flashed his amazing baby blue eyes, gave me a hug and said “Hold you Momma?” Immediately I dropped my sponge and grabbed him.  In that moment the world made sense and every stress floated from my shoulders like it was a weightless butterfly. 

Being a parent is  absolutely the best thing that could have ever happened to me.  When it happened a second time I wasn’t sure if there was enough room in my heart for another child.  I mean, Gabriella was the most perfect thing  that could have ever graced this earth, could there be such a thing as a child that could rival or steal a piece of that love?  I thought throughout my pregnancy that this little boy was going to have to really fight for my attention because my daughter was my everything.

I was the oldest of 4 in my own family and I often wondered if my parents had a favorite one of us.   How could you not?  We are only human… it’s only natural right?  I remember asking my Mom one day which of us she loved most, and she told me that she loved us all the same.  At that time I couldn’t understand what she meant and figured she said that because I must not have been “the one”.

It wasn’t until Gabriel was born that I understood what she meant.  The love of a mother isn’t a normal love, it’s almost superhuman.  I have 2 children now and I can honestly tell you that there is no way I could choose who I love more.  The thought of even contimplating the subject makes my stomach turn.  I love those babies for their faults and triumphs and everything else in between.  I will be there for them whenever they need me, and they will be there for me.   When I feel the need to be “Super” and my cape gets wrinkled in the wind exposing the chords that are helping pull off the illusion that that I can fly, they will never point it out, they will just love me.  (well I hope they don’t point it out untill they’re at least teenagers! lol)

When people describe Love, they often talk about romance.  When I think of love, it’s more than just syrupy love notes and passion… it’s about giving life and sharing your body and your soul with your family.  Love has made me a Mother, my children have shown me that, that LOVE  is limitless.

The first few days, this experiment went swimmingly.  I was sitting down to meals with the family, serving myself vegetables first, and then having the carbs and protein left behind by my kids.  What a perfect way to get myself in the habit of starting with veggies, I thought.

Even better, my kids were trying new vegetables, and we were starting to get a more realistic sense of the kinds of portions they should have.  You see, we thought we were giving our children about the right amount of food.  You probably think that, too, and maybe you are.  But we discovered that obviously we were giving them too much, because there was food left behind at every meal.  In just the first few days, we got better at serving the right sized portions.

All in all, it seemed to us that the experiment was going to help us change our habits to both reduce food waste and eat more healthfully.

And then we went on vacation.

You know what’s even harder than eating healthy food on vacation?  Feeding your kids healthy food on vacation.  When you stay with people, they are forever feeding your kids crap, and it’s hard to say, “No, I don’t think a chocolate-chocolate-chip muffin is a good breakfast.”  When you eat out, it’s even worse.  The kids can’t find anything they like on the menu, so they end up ordering chocolate-chip pancakes.

Do you have any idea how big the Funny Face pancake is at IHOP?  I do, because I was given the leftovers of three of them.  I couldn’t finish.  Note to IHOP: consider reducing your children’s portions.  In fact, you may want to consider reducing your portion sizes altogether.  I’m just sayin’.

You don’t realize how crappy your kids eat on vacation until all you are eating is the same stuff they eat.  Then your arteries start shuddering and begging for some brown rice.

Meanwhile, since I’ve sworn off everything that’s not a vegetable, I’m stuck ordering salads with only vegetables.  Salads really suck without croutons and dressing, I must say.  But at this point I prefer them to yet another leftover chocolate chip pancake.

I’m not sure if I’ve lost weight, because I had to use a different scale and weigh myself with my clothing on.  I still weigh in at 121, but I don’t know how accurate that is.  I’ll comment back on this post in a couple of days with my weight on my home scale.

We arrive home in a few days, and I’ll be cooking again.  I can cook up twelve different kinds of squash and a few tomatoes and serve it with pasta and beans.  I can start with the veggies and then add in the pasta at the end.  I can serve my kids food that I am not appalled to eat myself.  If you want regular updates, I’m tweeting about this under #leftoverexperiment.

In the meantime, you’ll find me over here, polishing off my dry salad and Lilah’s leftover Funny Face.

Bio: Emily Rosenbaum is most comfortable barefoot and in the kitchen.  Feminist, writer, and mother, she spends hours every day baking, chopping, and stewing, usually with the help of one of her children.  She has many publications, including Babble, Skirt!, and B***h. Please feel free to visit her website to contact her.

As I previuosly blogged about, my oldest son Danny went to Korea to teach English (the subject) for a year.  He knew no one and went alone.  As usual he had to completely drive me insane this summer before he left.  Maybe we will chock it up to needing to “separate” from his parents, but the time had come to be on his own.  He was anxious and ready to get the ball rolling, albeit nervous!

When he left he had a few hundred dollars in his pocket that he had sort of saved from oddball jobs this summer.  I tried to impress upon him that working hard and saving in the interim would be helpful to tide him over before he got his first paycheck but he NEEDED those new sunglasses, ect.  It’s funny, had he worked his butt off while he was here I would have wanted to help him out, I would know that he UNDERSTOOD the value of money.  But because I knew he hardly worked during that time and was then squandering the money he did make, I knew I had to let him go and figure it out and survive on his own.  I have a parenting theory that if you let them figure it out themselves…they will!   He had no cell phone or credit card and away he went.  It was a little scary but he did survive and now I must report, he is thriving.  He doesn’t know Korean and when he first got there he was hard pressed to find anyone who spoke English.  He was a bit flipped out, but he found his way and continues to do so.  Thank God we discovered video chat…it is the coolest thing ever!

Three weeks have gone by and he is doing wonderfully.  He loves the students and has found a real sense of purpose. Hopefully he will save his money and come back with a leg up and start the next chapter with a savings account and a means to get an apartment, take care of his car…blah, blah, blah.  I already see him growing up and it is exciting!  Of course he did tell the students to call him by his first name, not “Mr.,” because “he’s still a kid too”…YIKES…baby steps.

By Jennifer Rawlings

I am in New York City for a few days “developing/performing” a one-woman show I wrote. (If you happen to be within driving distance I would love for you to come see it August 26 at Cornelia Street Cafe 6 pm)

Yesterday I walked into a Duane Reade on 8th Ave and bought two items- a tube of toothpaste and some dryer sheets. I dug thru my large handbag for exact change, paid my bill and reached for my two items on the counter just as the cashier was placing them in a plastic bag. I smiled at the young cashier and told “ I don’t need a bag, I’ll just put the items in my purse”

The cashier looked at me in absolute bewilderment and said “ Why don’t you want a bag?”

“ Because plastic bags are bad for the environment and I can just carry it or put it in my purse”

“ Well lots of things are bad for the environment and one person and one plastic bag isn’t going to make a difference. Everyone would have to stop –so just take the bag” he insisted.

I smiled and thanked him and put the items in my purse- no bag.

On my walk back to the apartment I thought about what the young man said that “ one person and one bag isn’t going to make a difference”. His comment made me sad because I realized how much of the world gets caught up in this sort of thinking. Everyone else is doing it – so I might as well do it too. Or the total misconception that one person and one action can’t make a difference. This type of thinking is wrong and couldn’t be further from the truth.

Let’s examine plastic bags and see how many bags one person can save by using “reusable bags” or no bag at all. Every week I buy approximately nine to bags of groceries. 52 weeks x 9 bags of groceries= 468 plastic bags ( plastic bags are usually doubled so the true number is 936 plastic bags) I also am offered plastic bags at the drug store, hardware store , department store, and other specialty stores. Most of the time I can drop the new mascara or the box of nails in my purse instead of using a bag. When I buy dog food at the pet store I just carry the food out- it’s already in a bag I don’t need another one. Do I really need a bag for some toilet paper and a magazine? Lets assume these additional errands add up to another five bags a week. 52 x 5= 260 plastic bags. That means that one person simply forgoing plastic bags on groceries and small errands will save the planet 1196 plastic bags in a year- that is definitely SOMETHING. Get the entire family involved and one household would probably save over 3000 plastic bags a year.

One person and one action always makes a difference- no matter how small or seemingly insignificant the action is.

Now I just need to continue to apply this logic to every area of my life – conserving energy and water, saving money, creating less waste, walking more and driving less, planting a garden. The power of one.

by Angie Mizzell

My son and I were sitting on the front porch one afternoon, enjoying a brief break from the scorching summer heat.  He was flipping through a photo album and came across a picture of his dad and me, standing outside an open air bar.

“What were you and Daddy doing?”

“We were on our honeymoon. We took a trip to Jamaica after we got married.”

“But who was taking care of me?” He was very concerned we had left him home to fend for himself.

“Well, you weren’t born yet.” Lately, we’ve been having a lot of conversations like these. My son is 4 1/2, and his baby brother just turned one. He’s having flashes of memories: Meeting his brother at the hospital, how the baby was in my belly and how my stomach got so big we couldn’t take naps together on the couch anymore.

For a while, he reconciled his brother arrived on earth via the hospital nursery, but now, he’s making the connection. Mommy went to the hospital so the doctor could get the baby out of her belly.

“How did the doctor do that?” Inquiring minds want to know.

I answered honestly while glossing over the graphic details. He seemed satisfied. And that was a relief, because lately his new phrase is, “Tell me the whole of it.” Which means tell him everything. He wants the whole story.

I am, in a word, fascinated by this. I enjoy watching his wheels turn and come to these questions on his own. It’s as if a switch flips, and suddenly he’s like, “Wait a minute. How did that happen?”

I pulled the chair closer to my son and flipped forward a few pages. I pointed to another photo in the album. It was a picture of his daddy and me standing in front of the fireplace. I was lifting my shirt, exposing my bump. “That was you when you were inside my belly.”

He pulled up his shirt and stuck his finger in his belly button, showing me where we were attached.  “So who was in Daddy’s belly?” I explained that’s not how it works. “Who was in NaNa’s belly? Who was in MiMi’s belly? Who was in…?” and on and an on and on. The game is fun. I remember being that age.

I encourage his curiosity but dance around the subject, careful not to lead him to THE question. How do babies get in mommy’s belly in the first place? I’m holding my breath. It’s only a matter of time.

Do you have any funny stories to share? How do you handle these curious questions from your kids?

Last year my husband and I unfortunately had to declare bankruptcy.     

Why?  Because we both like to spend money.  My Grandma Sophia likes to say that I have champagne taste on beer wages.  I admit that I’ve had my money problems in the past, but since the bankruptcy life has been so much better.  It’s given us a chance to see the damage we’ve caused and to learn from those mistakes.  When we find ourselves in similar situations from the past, we can identify that right away and make changes in order to divert from bigger faults in the future.

This is all great… but where do we go from here? 

Since we moved to Colorado in 06 we’ve been waiting for the opportunity to move back to California.  It’s the placethat I’ve always seen myself settling down.  I was there for a while, that’s where I met my husband… we got carried away with our spending and had to make the hard decision to move closer to my folks and their financial assistance.   We thought by moving it would solve all of our money troubles, because CO is so much cheaper to live in than CA…  We failed to realize that the pay was lower and our credit was shot!  Unfortunately Colorado would leave us with similar options as the situation we were running from.

So we tried to fix things, by hiring a debt consolidator, and instead of helping us clear our debt he took our money and disapeared.  Finally we got to the point to where bankruptcy became our best… well only option.  So we took it and have been working  to rebuild out credit for over a year now.  We made the “large purchase”  by buying a car and we’ve been careful to keep up with our bills.   We’ve made some mistakes but for the most part things are looking up.  So good infact, that we have the opportunity to move back to California after the NYC Marathon, but we won’t end up going back.

Why?  We’re not out of the woods yet financially and barely getting to a place where we’re not having to depend on anyone but ourselves, and I like that feeling. 

Plus (completely off the money subject) Colorado has been good to us.  I’ve met so many amazing people on this NYC Marathon journey it’s completely changed my perception of this city.  In a way, I feel that I finally fit in.   I have learned to deal with the dry skin. thin air and I’m  learning to appreciate and actually enjoy the outdoors!  The beach used to be my first love but I find myself thinking about running there and it’s nice, but then I remember how much better I have it being able to train in a high altitude.  When I get to NY, it’s going to make a HUGE difference!  

 It wasn’t until today that I knew for sure this is where we need to be.   The thing that made my mind up point blank was this beautifully crafted sandbox my Dad had made for my kids.  I didn’t know he was having it made, and when I saw it… my heart broke.   In going to CA, we would be able to live in a location we love… but with out a lot of the people we love.  I wanted to make this decision to move based on opportunity and place where I could meet people that could advance my hopeful culinary interests but what about my parents?  What about the relationship they have with my children?  My Mom and Dad have been so instrumental in our lives these past few years, that with out them we couldn’t have made it.  I could never uproot them on the basis of a hope and prayer that the grass would be greener in CA.

 Been there.  Done that. 

Well folks, this time I’m denying myself  the greener pasture.   It’s a big step for me.  My husband loves his job here ( he would pick up and follow me across the globe.  I’m a lucky girl).   I have a new start, and a family that loves me… and we’re working hard to build a foundation.

What was my beef with Colorado?

In 1996 (I was 16) I first moved to Colorado from Las Vegas, NV with my family.  Vegas was all that I had known and Denver was so different.  It wasn’t just the climate, the altitude, competition in sports the higher level of education… it was the people too.  I was out of my element and I didn’t know how to deal with all this “new”. 

In Vegas I went to a private  school near the strip and can remember being board in English and watching the roller coaster go round and round at the top of the Stratosphere Tower.  The school was very culturally diverse in a lower income area of town. 

In Denver I went to a school in the suburbs where the majority of the students were white and upper middle class.  It was a complete culture shock.  I was a soccer star in Vegas here I was average at best.  I was a honor roll student in Vegas her I was behind for my grade level.  In Vegas I was a fashionista and here if you weren’t wearing Abercrombie and Fitch you didn’t matter.  Colorado made me feel like I wasn’t worthy when I was a teen and I was desperate to get out.  I vowed never to return, so when we had to… it was a last resort.

Today, Colorado has rebuilt who I am as a person.  The people have gone above and beyond to help me to reach my goals and to cheer me on to be the person I never knew I always wanted to be! I am truely the “Unlikely Marathon Momma”.  I hate running, but every stride means success and proving to myself and the world that I a stronger woman than they may think.  I am a woman who is a force to be reconed with and no obstacle will stand in my way.  

When I was a teen California meant DREAMS waiting to realized so I chased it.   Today Colorado means DREAMS that have been achieved.  I’ve built my foundation.  I have everything I could ever need.  I would have never been able to come to this conclusion if it wasn’t for the hours I’ve spent alone in my head while running.  I know that I will survive with out California.  I am strong enough to  make life what I want it to be where ever I am.  It’s true, Home IS where the heart is and my heart is in Colorado.

This is a pic that my friend Jen took of me last weekend right before Georgetown to Idaho Springs!  It’s the NEW me!

Weigh in: 121 pounds

On Wednesday, a few people expressed concern about this little experiment.  “What message may get mixed up in this?” I read in the comments, while my four-year-old, Benjamin, tried to hit all the keys on my laptop.

I closed the computer and went to get the two younger ones lunch.  The six-year-old, Zachary, has been visiting his grandparents all week, which means this is a stupid week to start this particular experiment, given that he’s the one who never eats anything.  I was a little worried that I’d go hungry just surviving off the other two children’s leftovers because they actually eat. 

“And what would you like for lunch?” I asked Ben.  “I can cook up some broccoli to go with the leftover mac and cheese.”

“No, I want peas,” he replied.  He loves peas.  Almost-two-year-old Lilah loves peas.  All normal people love peas.  It goes without saying that Zachary won’t touch them.

“OK, but you have to eat the macaroni and cheese, too,” I told him.  I got out the pan of mac and cheese I made for dinner a few nights ago and was about to spoon some onto a plate for him.  Then I realized that, if I did so, I might put on more than he was likely to eat, just to ensure I had leftovers.  “Show me how much you want,” I said.

He showed me.  It was less than I would have given him. 

While Ben’s lunch heated, I tried to get Lilah to tell me what she wanted to eat.  “You need to eat something with the peas,” I told her as she gesticulated wildly towards the peas and yelled.  Finally, we established that she would consent to eat peanut butter and jelly, as long as I also put peas on the plate.  I had baked date-carob bread on Tuesday, and I sliced off two pieces for her sandwich.

Of course, when I put it in front of her, she screamed that she wanted baked beans.  “No,” I answered.  “You asked for peanut butter and jelly.  Eat that, and then you can have baked beans.”

I went back into the kitchen to get myself some veggies to nibble on until I scored some more substantive leftovers from my kids. Tuesdays, we pick up our produce bag from the local organic co-op, so I had plenty of green stuff to choose from.  Normally, I’d be making myself a giant plate of macaroni and cheese or a PB&J, but those were off limits unless my kids didn’t finish their food. 

I sliced up a green pepper and sat down with my kids to eat.  I like peppers, but I rarely think to just sit down and eat one.

“What’s that?” Ben asked, always on the lookout for someone eating something better than what he has.

“It’s a pepper.”

“Can I have some?”  Now, the kid has never eaten a pepper raw.  It’s just not something I usually serve.

“Sure.”  As soon as he took his slice, Lilah demanded one, too.

Next thing I knew, he had made off with a quarter of my pepper, Lilah was munching on a slice, and Ben was asking me to slice up a second pepper.  “It’s good and crunchy,” he explained.

“OK, but you need to eat some more of your macaroni and cheese while I’m getting the pepper.”

“Five more bites,” he bargained.

“That’s fine.”

“Four,” piped up Lilah, holding up one finger.

For lunch, then, I had almost a whole pepper, eight bites of macaroni and cheese, half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and nine gazillion peas.  Less than I normally would have eaten, and far more vegetable-heavy.

As to the message that got mixed up in lunchtime?  There were several, so take your pick:

1)     Mommy likes vegetables enough to eat one before having something else.

2)     You can’t just have vegetables for lunch.

3)     I trust you to choose how large a portion you want.

4)     Peppers are awesome.

I think I’m OK with what my kids are learning so far.

Bio: Emily Rosenbaum is most comfortable barefoot and in the kitchen.  Feminist, writer, and mother, she spends hours every day baking, chopping, and stewing, usually with the help of one of her children.  She has many publications, including Babble, Skirt!, and B***h. Please feel free to visit her website to contact her, especially if you want to babysit her children.