peskypippi.comBecause I have a lot to say…

My daughter decided to chop off eight inches of her hair while we were on vacation. I (mostly) try to support her when she makes her own decisions. So, a visit to SuperCuts in Kihei, Maui, and 25 minutes later: done.

Why did she do it?

a. She wanted a change.

b. She likes to make her own decisions.

c. Her hair was so tangled from salt water and chorine that she was forced to cut it.

d. All of the above.

Dude! It’s always “d.” Duh.

Rest assured, no self-confidence was cut.

If you’re needing to look thin, like now, here’s how. Thin, in 6 easy steps:

1. Go outside. Make sure it’s sunny.
2. Find your shadow.
3. Take a picture of your shadow.
4. Bam. Your legs are instantly elongated. And your head is, uh, instantly tiny too.
5. Oh, and by the way, if you have your dog in tow, might as well go for a walk or jog. It can’t hurt!

Yep. I did the Dr. Oz 3-Day Detox Cleanse. You can too. Check it out here:

Basically, you fuel your body with four complete meals a day in the form of smoothies/juices, which contain mostly vegetables and fruits and some fats and some protein. Dr. Oz suggests that by doing this cleanse, you will eliminate harmful toxins, restore your system, and reset your body. Was he right?

I eliminated. I reset. I restored.

This detox cleanse reminded me that I can do ANYTHING for three days. Here are the pros and cons from my experience:

1. I consumed A LOT of vegetables and fruits. Probably 4x of what I normally consume daily. This was a good reminder to eat more vegetables and fruits daily.
2. More fiber in, more fiber out. It’s really that simple.
3. I was hydrated. I peed so much that my pee was clear. (Maybe it was all the green tea and celery acting as a diuretic to flush everything out?)
4. I learned new ways of making smoothies…such as combining avocado and frozen berries and coconut milk make a pretty damn good faux ice cream.
5. I was OK for breakfast, lunch, and snack, but by dinner time, I was ready for dinner dinner. Not another smoothie.
6. I missed chewing my food and I missed hot food.
7. My sugar cravings were gone. Instead, I was craving a salad or a piece of fish. (I guess that’s the resetting part.)
8. I lost 5 lbs.
9. I didn’t feel like I was getting enough protein. Aerobic exercise and cleansing don’t mix that well, at least for me. I tried running one day, elliptical one day, and weights one day. I think that was too much exertion with so little protein. I felt sorta shaky.
10. I realized I really do hate raw kale. I had to swap the kale for spinach.
11. Pooping once a day is nice. But pooping twice a day, is twice as nice. And when you consume spinach and berries and flax by the truckload, your poop is quite, uh, colorful.

My seven-year-old son is learning geography at school. He hums the theme song to Indiana Jones…and wants to be him when he grows up. So that he can travel and study old things.

My young son’s latest interest is India. (Hmmm…I wonder where he got that idea?)

He has added up his dollars–they make quite a pile. He proclaimed that he needs $10 more and he’ll have enough to buy his own passport. With a passport in hand, he thinks that he will instantly start traveling. Like Doc Brown’s time machine. Zap! Calcutta!

May my dreamer–and future world traveler–get lots of stamps in his passport.

And I just may get myself a passport too…so that my son and I can zap off to India.

At the hospital, the nurses told me to hold my newborn like a football when I fed him.

Now this six-foot-tall young man plays football. With swarms of teenager girls watching.

I was not prepared for this.

I have mothered this boy-man for 13 years. As the years and milestones pass, I try to support his independence, steer his choices, but ultimately let go. And it’s difficult.

One of my favorite parenting mantras is:

“There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give to our children. One of them is roots. The other is wings.”

I’m better at the roots part. You know, the love and nurturing part?

I am trying to be better at the wings part.

Take for example, football. Do I want my son playing a sport where his body is jostled around and he is required to wear a mouth guard–not only to protect his pretty teeth but to prevent jaw injuries at mega impact? It’s nerve-racking signing all of the concussion waivers. It’s also kinda awesome seeing him in his full gear–with helmet and pads–looking like a man.

He really really wants to play. And he is committed to doing his best.

I am proud of his dedication and enthusiasm. And because of this, I must let go and let him grow. And be his cheerleader.

I can’t help but think of the children’s song, Eagles, which sums up my belief in raising children: letting go.

May this big boy of mine fly down that football field with his mouth guard and his budding wings. I will be watching with love, support, and faith in him. And I may also be sporting a tear or two.

These pictures show me with my son then…now.

Whoa!

Horseback riding with my daughter on the beach was proof that you CAN teach an old horse new tricks.

I hadn’t stepped foot aboard a horse in years decades. I approached the giant beast with a bit of trepidation. It was MY daughter who held my hand and encouraged ME with a you-can-do-it voice.

It was Labor Day weekend last year and we had an hour-long horse ride on the beach.

The ranchers sized me up and down. I was thinking they’d put me on an old, slow gal named Molasses. But no. Mine was Ginger. And she should have been called Seabiscuit, what with her breakaway speed I later found out.

The ranchers went over the procedures and techniques beforehand. “Keep your horses walking. No galloping and if they start trotting, slow them down.”

My horse was whinnying and. well, chomping at the bit. She was raring to go. I pretty much forgot to listen about how to slow down. Was it pull the reigns? Or kick the horse in the ribs? And was it tap in the ribs gently or more like cowboys-with-spurs who say “Giddy-up,” heading out on a 14-day cattle drive? I forgot.

No worries. The 20 or so horses lined up single file and we headed to the waves.

I looked over at my daughter on her horse. My daughter was confident. Beaming. Calm.

I smiled back, still scared shitless. As Ginger Seabiscuit started to trot.

OK, this was not so bad. The horses were clomping along, through the dunes. Mild mannered.

When we came to the open beach, my horse decided to trot and gallop. What’s a Mom to do? Go along with it, of course.

Because basically, I had no choice. And I hadn’t worn my sports bra.

The rancher rode up alongside of me and hollered, “Pull the reigns!” Ah. It worked. Temporarily. Though my horse was in the mood to run, and would sneak in some trotting.

I can do this, I thought. Trot. Pull the reigns. Trot. Pull the reigns.

Scanning the group for my daughter, we finally caught up to each other. And she said:

1. I am having the best day ever!
2. Oh and don’t let go of the reigns.

We smiled. Grinned.

I loved watching my daughter, who was glowing, as the wind whipped her hair. She was free. No fears.

After I let go of some fears (about losing control, losing my life), I too, felt free.

On that little excursion, it was my daughter who taught me a thing or two about having fun and letting go. Proving that you CAN teach an old horse new tricks.

There is nothing more exciting on a Saturday morning than to watch my daughter tear it up and rough it up during a soccer game.

She’s the one in all blue. The one that looks like she’s gonna break the other girl’s arm. Or did she already?

We teach our children to be kind. We teach them to be empathetic. We teach them to be good citizens, good learners, good listeners, good people. We support their creativity. We support their dreams.

And let me tell you. We support them when they kick some ass in sports.

That’s where my competitiveness comes out. Yeah. I’m the parent of an athlete. I am impressed by her athleticism, determination, and strength. Not only am I proud, but I am learning from her.

I am the parent hollering on the sidelines. I am the one high-fiving my husband when our daughter protects the goal. Scores a goal from half-field. Or roughs it up on the field.

You see, what’s funny is my daughter is soft spoken. She has a fairy-like, sing-song voice. She plays with dragons. She paints vibrant canvases. She is unique and free-spirited and peaceful.

But when she’s on the soccer field, better hide the girlie girls. Because #99 is a powerful force.

You may not be preparing your children to be an Olympic athlete, but you are preparing them for something even bigger:

LIFE.

We mothers care so much and do so much.

And it is all worth it.

This commercial thanks mothers with the theme “the hardest job in the world is the best job in the world.”

Best. Commercial. Ever.

What do you think? Let me know if it made you cry. I did. #bigtime

Sometimes as a parent, you need to “let go,” and let your kids go!

We were at a carnival and my sweet-and-pensive nine-year-old daughter wanted to ride only two things. The carousel? No. The jumping house? No.

The mechanical bull. And the Zipline.

Hmmm.

This is when you transform yourself into supportive cheerleader.

• You support their dreams.
• You cheer them on with zest.

Even if, on the inside, you are worried and cringing. Watch my daughter as she adventures down the Zipline. Go!

When was the last time you were home alone? And didn’t do work (work work, housework, work out)?

Just some “me” time?

I had a few hours–home alone–one evening this week. No children. No husband.

Here is what I did:

• Read the April issue of Martha Stewart Living cover to cover.
• Watched My Week With Marilyn.
• Painted my nails purple.
• Had a nice call with my mother.
• Tried on some new outfits.
• Even dozed off for a bit.

In one word: Bliss.