Eyes wide open.

Today’s my Mother’s day.  We’ve all got a mum, and we share a unique experience of this universal day.  When I was a kid, my mom was really good at nurturing.  My memories involve a cool, soft  sheet spread on the sofa when I was feeling puny.  Having to tell her “3 things that happened today” when I got home from school, and dinner on the table every night, a task that I can’t even begin to comprehend.  She helped me explore my imagination and took me to ballets.   She was and is a work in progress, but she’s become very honest about that fact.  She’s raw, creative and real.  She’s developed a resiliency that I think runs counter to how most age.  And, her ability to grow into acceptance of her sharp edges and imperfections is teaching me how to let go of my own battles with perfectionism.  I’ve found the personal growth of my parents’, even from my perspective as a 34-year old grown adult, teaches me faster than almost anything else.  Their willingness to adapt, learn, change, feel and grow sparks deep inspiration and even quiet skills to do the same within my own life.  I find it freeing to think that I don’t have to be perfect to parent.  I just have to keep living, accepting and becoming.

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Push send.

Back when my horrendous chef hat was still crisp white, I certainly wouldn’t have told you that I’d write a cookbook with my mother someday.

But, we just pressed “Send” on our full manuscript.  Praise heaven, earth and the extra brain-space that just freed up.

Now, I’m hardly saying we’re finished.  Mom and I have got many edits in front of us, covers to finalize and more, but it’s all on paper folks.  My brain feels lighter without carrying the weight of all those words.  Curled up next to whatever else is to come, the pages had been rattling, eager to get out and their birth feels like an enormous relief.  I celebrated by attending not one, but two dance classes today – a total luxury and my kind of celebration.

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