My last chick just left the nest.  I was OK until the bus came by and this sense of sadness snuggled up inside my heart next to the excitement I had for Bryan going off to Kindergarten.  When my first child (Kyle) left for school over six years ago I was a wreck.  I was so overwhelmed with grief that I don’t remember anything but that; this haze of sadness on me like a blanket.  When Kyle left for school, it was like I was sending my life on that bus.  Who was I if I wasn’t a mom of a child that needed me 24-7?  Was I still valued, did I still matter, was I as loved? It was like I was mourning the loss of myself, my identity.

With my second and last child, I know myself so much better. It was my son that was getting on the bus this morning; it was not my self-worth or who I knew myself to be getting on that bus.  I had 6 ½ years between my two boys and in that time I was able to discover parts of myself that were distinct from the “mother” piece of me. Anyone who knows me sees pretty quickly that I am a mom first but I am also a scientist, cook, educator, author and creator.

I knew what to expect when Bryan got on that bus this morning.  With Kyle, the unknown was far worse as my imagination took me places that I would never want him to go.  I knew when I sent Bryan off this morning that he was going into a vault of security, to a school where I would have little contact and very little knowledge of his activities each day.  The only glimpses I will get, is what he chooses to tell me.   He will be influenced both positively and negatively by the people he meets and the situations he finds himself in. 

Knowing that I can no longer keep him protected from harm in my nest is the hardest part. and it is with this sadness that I will sit and have a cup of tea this morning while I honor all that I am and pat myself on the back for doing a great job- raising a child who is not only ready but super excited to be going off to school. For me the hardest part of parenting is in letting my child go to be who he is going to be, even if I may not be ready to do so.  Won’t you join me in a cup of tea?

I just returned from Paris (a two-decade dream in the making) and I was determined to discover why it is that “French Women Don’t Get Fat” and “French Kids Eat Everything”; two books that make quite the outrageous claims.  After observing the French for two weeks I saw certain behaviors that gave me some interesting insights. Based on my observations, and assuming for the moment that these authors’ claims are indeed true, these may be some reasons why the French manage their weight better:

#1 There are no “Express Check Out” lines in grocery stores for those with 10 or less items. The French buy only what they need for the next meal. Most only buy a few items at a time.

#2 I did not see “Buy 1 liter of soda and get another for free” or “Buy 1 bag of chips and get the next half off” in the grocery stores I went into.

#3 I never saw the French walking around with a bottle of soda, juice, and vitamin water in their hand.  They consider eating and drinking in public rude.

#4 Eating and drinking happens when one takes the time to sit and eat and enjoy.

I don’t think it is so much the “what they eat” but the “how” that really makes a difference.  Can you imagine buying just what you needed for yourself or your family for that day? I know this can seem like a daunting task but if I “American-ize” this suggestion; how much better would our kids diet be if we (the parent) and they (the child) didn’t impulse buy because the deal on soda and chips was a great buy; what if we stuck to a grocery list for the ingredients we needed to make a weeks worth of meals. I think this would make a huge impact on our families diet.