Mommy, you're so pretty

One of the great things of having small kids is that they think that you are the most beautiful person in the world. They think you have the best hair, the nicest clothes, the best body and the most beautiful voice. I remember when I was little, I thought my mother had the most beautiful Opera voice..lol..the reason I am laughing is because it was not beautiful, in fact, when I got older it sounded like fingernails against the blackboard. But for many years when she sang “Momma loved the roses” by Elvis, I got baby goose bumps..lol. Me and my sisters would think she was the best singer in the world. I remember looking in her makeup drawer and thinking that she had the most perfect lipstick colours, bright poppy red. Her nail polish was brown, but perfect. Everything about her was beautiful and I was so proud of her.
I see it with my own daughter. Every time I come down dressed up, she looks at me and says “Wow mommy you look beautiful”. She also wants me to keep everything for her when she grows up. When I am wearing a pair of black heels or if I am wearing sparkly earings, she is just so excited, and she asks me to keep it for her for when she gets “big”..lol. Little does she know, she will not think it is so cool when she is older, especially when she is a teenager. I know that eventually she will look at what I have on, or at what I buy, and criticize it, or make fun of it.
Tonight she asked me how old am I going to turn in 2 weeks. When my husband said 35, she said, “NO..mommy is turning 15...right mommy?” I didn’t want to shatter her image so I agreed..lol. Then my hubby said again, “No, mommy is turning 35” and she responded with “No, daddy! 35 is an old lady and mommy is not old!”..lol. She sees me as beautiful and young. My son used to tell me that he wanted to marry me when he grew up, well that lasted a whole 2 years, now it’s “Mommy, drop me off in the front of school, I don’t want you to come in the back with me”. It happened so fast, so I am enjoying all my daughter’s compliments as long as it lasts.

Innocence in a child in the most precious thing you can imagine. They look at the world with their wide eyes absorbing everything in front of them. They always see the glass half full and they don’t judge others by their appearance, skin colour or size. Everyone is equal and each day, is a fresh start. If we can only keep that innocent feeling forever. If only we can bottle up their enthusiasm and keep it for their upcoming years of stress and disappointment, and if only we can always be as beautiful to them as we once were, when they were just fragile humans. If only, we can remind them, that when they looked at us, we were pretty.
That’s my peace today!

Fried Calamari
1 pound fresh squid (whole)
1/2 cup bread crumbs
1/2 cup flour
2 eggs
salt
4 tbsp chopped parsley
oil for frying

Wash squid, get sharp knife and cut into strips (whatever size you like). Salt the strips, dip in beated egg. Meanwhile mix flour, breadcrumbs and parsley in a bowl. Take the squid out of the egg bowl and dip in flour mixture. Heat oil in deep pan and deep fry. Garnish with parsley(optional)

The "No Carb" Italian diet

If you are Italian, then you know that Italian food is all about carbohydrates. We live, eat and breathe carbs. Everything we make involves some kind of doughy or starchy substance. Pasta, pizza, lasagne, gnocchi, risotto. I can go on forever listing all the carbs we love to eat. If you are fortunate like I am, then you also have an Italian grandmother (well I still have 2) and their cooking is filled with saturated fat, tons of cheese and of course..carbs. Whenever I have those days of wanting to eat less, I know not to go over for lunch to Nonna’s. First of all, it’s “Why are you on a diet? You look like a toothpick, you are going to blow away, I can’t even see you anymore..eat!”) Keep in mind it was 1 month after I gave birth, so you know I had had many extra pounds on my body. My grandmother’s did not see that, they thought I was the best I ever looked. Now you know, when an Italian grandmother tells you that you look beautiful, and says “now you’re good!” that means, (to put it politely...) chubby! In their eyes, you have to have meat on every possible inch of your body, but they are also very confusing, if someone is “too chubby” then they criticize and say it’s because they ate too much sugar and water as babies.
So let’s just say that you attempted to go over while dieting, my grandmother would have the table stocked with foods like, Stuffed eggplants (has breadcrumbs and cheese like crazy), Veal Cutlets (breaded and fried), Stuffed Ravioli (Pasta stuffed with ricotta), fried zucchini (breaded and fried), a huge tomato salad (dressed with half a bottle of olive oil), 3 different kinds of breads, and for desert, Zia Lina’s Panettone (made with 8 eggs and 1 cup of oil)..lol. There is no denying that you are going to eat like a queen, but because you are trying to eat light you pause. My grandmother asks me “what’s wrong? Sit down and eat before it gets cold”, I think, do I tell her there is more fat, cheese and oil on this table to fatten 1000 starving people? Or do I sit down and enjoy this feast? I hesitantly tell my grandmother I am trying to stay away from carbs..lol. OMG, she looks at me with this look like I just told her that the Pope is not really Catholic.lol...and she then she starts..”What do you mean? Shut up, sit down and eat! There are no carbs here, eat the ravioli”, and I say “Nonna, that’s carbs” she says “ok, then eat the Veal”, “Nonna, they are breaded with bread, and then fried”, she responds very madly “ok have some tomatoes with bread that’s diet food”..lol..she just doesn’t get it.
Italians believe that food is life, love and the reason we breathe. They make love to their food when they eat. It is something that must be enjoyed, and shared. Although I agree with the fact that we should love every bite, and I would choose a plate of my grandmother’s home made gnocchi (btw, the G is silent people..lol) than a frozen Lean Cuisine, but reality is, the food is fattening and we cannot eat grandmother food every day. I enjoy cooking “Italian”, but let’s lighten up on the amount of oil we use. Grandmothers are funny, they say, “Olive oil is the best thing you can have” yes it is healthy to have in small amounts, but try to explain to them that 2 cups of oil in every meal is not what nutritionists mean. They always have some statistic that they saw on RAI (Italian TV station) and then they repeat it.. “Do you know that if you have olive oil everyday with 2 glasses of wine, a loaf of bread and 10 baci chocolates, then you will live long like me..lol”..yes Nonna, I know, but everything in moderation. They don’t get the word moderation.
So the next time you feel like you need to lose a couple of pounds, then my advice to you, stay away from Italian grandmothers. They just don’t understand what a “No Carb” diet is..lol.
That’s my peace today!

Pasta e Patate
1/2 pack shell or ditalli pasta
2 potatoes
fresh basil
1 cup cooked sauce
1/2 white onion diced
4 tbsp olive oil
2-3 cups water
salt and pepper to taste

In a saucepan, heat, add oil, onions and sautee, add potatoes and chopped basil. Cook for about 7 minutes, stirring constantly to not stick, salt for taste. Add sauce and stir for 1 minute, add water, let boil, add pasta and cook as directed. Potatoes should also be cooked. Add salt and pepper as needed. This should be more of a soup than thick.

Parents are people too

Kids seem to think that parents do not have a life. Besides the fact that we are raising them, feeding them, bathing them and indulging them. We are not allowed to watch our own shows, surf the net, or read quietly in the living room. Our daily life must revolve around their every need and desire. Unfortunately, we fall into their little “baby made” traps, and fail to realize that we still need a life. We forget that we married someone because we actually loved them, we were passionate about them, and we got butterflies when we saw them. Sure, the butterflies go away (sometimes, replaced by ulcer like feelings.lol) but the love and the passion gets put on the back burner. It’s obvious when we become parents our time shifts, our priorities change and our activities become child friendly. Our TV channel remains on Treehouse or Family. CD’s in the car turn into Hannah Montana and Blue’s Clues Adventures. Some people say we lose a part of ourselves, I disagree; I think we gain our childhood back. It is obviously different, but the same excited feeling. The feeling of meeting Dora at Wonderland, because we see the smile on our daughter’s face. Or, the look on our son’s face when you hand them a signed hockey stick from CUJO. We live our youth all over again, while raising them.
A relationship between husband and wife must change with that. We both carry the same goals for the future, the same goals for the present. We love each other, but we put that aside from 7am-9pm when the kids are awake and need our every waking attention. We both will drop anything if one of the kids yells for HELP! (Which happens quite often in our home). We build a house into a home. A home filled with kids laughing and crying, fighting and wrestling, eating and making a mess. We married because we both had the same goal; to become parents together. The road along the way is bumpy, a roller coaster ride, but as long as you keep your eye on the ball and remember why you signed up for the ride in the first place, you will survive. Parenthood is a battle, a journey and a lesson. It teaches us that we can love beyond lust, passion and Jon Bon Jovi..lol(I had to throw that in). We celebrate each year, one day, the day we said “I do”. This year it will be my 10 year anniversary. 4 kids, 1000 arguments, and also 1000 laughter’s later. We are still kicking it together. The job is hard, long and sometimes it sucks, but doing it together as a team, makes it easier and sometimes less painful.
My parents are in their 60’s now, and they travel to Florida every couple of months. I bug them about it because I like to get on my mother’s nerves..lol, but they deserve every sun worshiping minute of it. They raised 4 daughters and it is their turn to reap their rewards. We all hope we can get to that place in life.
We sometimes forget that we need more than 1 night away, maybe even, a few a year. We also sometimes forget to say thank you, or please, or you look great honey. We sometimes take our journey for granted, we forget about how important our job is, as a team. One day, all the kids will leave the house, and besides the furniture, light fixtures, and some rugs, what remains is 2 people. 2 people that fell in love so many years back, 2 people that brought human beings in the world. Hopefully, 2 people that went out more than once a year, because we realized way back then, that parents are people too!
That’s my peace today!

Lasagna
1 pack of fresh or dry egg pasta (for lasagna)
1 pound of minced veal
1 800 gram pack of shredded mozzarella
2 cans or jars of tomato sauce
1/4 chopped basil
1/2 diced onion
4 tbsp olive oil

Cook sauce, put aside. Heat a pan, add oil, onions, basil and meat. Cook until no longer pink. Put aside. If you are using dry egg pasta you can get Paeso Mio brand they do not need to be pre boiled and they come out perfect for this. If you are using fresh pasta you must dip in boiling water for 1 minute and pat dry before arranging. In a 9x13 pan, pour some sauce (enough to thinly cover bottom), arrange pasta in one direction to completely cover pan, pour a layer of sauce, meat, and mozzarella.(I usually add some sauce in the meat mixture so it is wet and saucy). Repeat steps until you reach to the top of the pan. Finish with pasta layer and top with sauce and mozzarella. Cover with foil and bake at about 385 degrees for an hour (until cheese melts and bubbles.)

Through the eyes of a mother

When our children are born, we check that they have 10 fingers, 10 toes, and a prefect little nose (especially Italians, noses are not exactly small).lol. Once all is in check, we begin the process of parenting. They start to walk, talk, laugh and imitate. We begin to enrol them in programs and sports for them to interact with others their age. Life goes pretty quickly, and before you know it, you are registering for kindergarten. They have their little assessment with colours, shapes etc. Life in school begins. Report cards, parent/teacher interviews are all part of the education process. Learning how to read almost seems impossible and far away, but before you know it, they are reading their own bedtime stories. You think they are the smartest kids ever. As a parent, we see through the eyes of love (a face only a mother can love..lol) We think they are the cutest, funniest, smartest and best in everything they do. They are our offspring and they are just perfect. You expect straight A’s on the report card and Olympic medals, eventually in their future. We are proud and they are perfect.
Our parents thought we were perfect, until we began proving them wrong. We lied, we cheated on tests, we didn’t run the fastest and we didn’t win the Science Fair. We were kids, we didn’t care if we were the best, we just wanted to have fun doing it. We didn’t stress over the B we got, or the second place ribbon for speeches, we just cared that we got it done and had time to play outside before it got dark. We didn’t over analyse situations with our friends from the fight we had at recess, we moved on and made up the lost time after school. We were kids, we didn’t want to be perfect, we wanted to be kids. Play, laugh, run, eat, and then by force, sleep. We didn’t carry the worry of our parents. If we didn’t make the soccer team, we were upset for a whole 5 minutes, and then we got over it. There was no dwelling on anything. Our parents felt the pain more than we did. My mother always said to me, “I would rather you cry now, then I cry later”. That was her way of telling me she was my protector, my shield for danger, my superhero. I just thought she was a pain in the ass.

We bring our kids to Sears, or Walmart or, if we sometimes feel like getting ripped off we go to “Here’s my Baby” and we get beautiful pictures done. A huge 16x16 for us, 2 8x10’s for grandparents and 200 wallet sizes, for our 200 closest aunts and cousins. We think that everyone wants a picture of our kids on their fridge, on their shelf and in their photo album. We look at those shots and see 4 perfect beautiful children. Perfect smiles, perfect hair, perfect shapes. (My mother actually thought I looked good in my grade 3 class picture..lol) My hair was all over the place, I had these huge buck teeth, and my ears looked like Dumbo, but when she looked at that picture, I was beautiful, my hair was neat, my teeth were straight and my ears were cute and little. She didn’t see my faults, she saw me through her eyes. She saw me as her 8 year old who was beautiful and just perfect.
That’s my peace today!

Arugula Salad
1 bunch of Arugula
1/4 cup of balsamic viniger
1/4 cup olive oil
1 clove crushed garlic
salt
fresh ground pepper
2 tbsp lemon juice
1/4 cup of sliced thin reggiano parmigianno cheese
2 fresh figs (optional)

In a bowl, mix oil, vinigar, salt and lemon juice and crushed garlic. Put washed arugula in a bowl, pour mixture on top. Toss, add cheese, ground pepper and fresh figs to garnish.

Can you hear me now?

What did we do 20 years ago without cell phones, email or the infamous blackberry? How did we manage to go to a movie or a house party without making sure our cell was charged and our contact information was full with friends’ numbers? The only thing I made sure I had was a quarter for the Bell payphone that I used to call my parents from to let them know that the movie would be over in 2 hours, and to pick me up at the front of the theatre. Today, you see 12 year olds walking around texting and emailing like it is their life line. A Christmas gift for me in Grade 7 was a pair of Cougar boots, not the latest pink Blackberry Storm. You hear parents justifying the fact that they like their kids to have a phone because at least they know where they are at all times. Now there is OMG, LOL, BFF,BTW, LMAO, and of course WTF! We are now living in a world of text and talk. I don’t think I have seen a payphone since my days of high school. Every week there are new phones, new plans and new features introduced for the Iphone, the Blackberry, the Itouch the bla bla bla..lol. I cannot keep up. I am not that old, and I don’t remember half the functions and features each phone offers. You talk to these teens and they text faster than I can read a sign, they are so tech savy, but if you ask them to give you change for a $20, they look at you like you’re an alien..lol.

We have all become guilty of tech dependency, I turn the car around if I realize that I forgot my phone. I might need it, just in case. I have 4 kids and you never know if they may need me. When we were going to school, our parents had to fill in the emergency contact information and put a home phone number or a grandparent’s number. Now, we have cell phones attached to our ears (literally) so we will be sure not to miss a beat. It has gotten so out of hand that they had to implement a new law against driving and talking..wow..that’s pretty bad. Isn’t it nice sometimes not to be reached? To make people wonder where we are and what we are doing and who we are with? Do we have to be available to almost everyone 24 hours a day? Do we really enjoy eating and texting, walking and texting or working and texting? I say, turn off your cell, close your laptop (after you finish reading this.lol), grab a cup of coffee, a good book and read. Say goodbye for just 1 hour to the world of high tech and say, “No, I can’t hear you now.”
That’s my peace today!

Shrimp a la Diavola
1 pack of jumbo raw shrimp
1 can tomato sauce or fresh tomatoes
2 clove of crushed garlic
2 springs of parsley chopped
1/4 cup lemon juice
1/4 white wine
2 tbsp chili pepper (or more if you like it spicy)
Olive oil
Salt to taste

Heat pan with oil, add garlic and shrimp. Cook for about 7-8 minutes. Add lemon juice and wine and parsley. After liquid disolved until about half, add tomatoes or sauce (whatever you are using). Add salt, and chili pepper until sauce is cooked.

I have my mother's thighs

I think it is just the job of a child to blame their parents for every bad or wrong thing that has happened in our life. I did it, and I can see my children are starting to do it. It’s always, “Ma, that’s because you didn’t let me go” or “Ma, that’s because you didn’t bring me to lessons”. There is always a reason why things went wrong, and it was always my mothers’ fault.lol. Of course, as we say, the wheels turn, and now I hear “Mommy, I fell at school today, and it’s all your fault”. I reply with “How is you falling at school, my fault?” and my son gives me this made up reason, “because you didn’t give me a belt for my pants.” And there was my answer. Basically, it’s my fault because I gave birth to him, and when you’re a mother, you are responsible for all bad choices, or decisions, or falls, or scrapes, or break ups. (Mothers are not responsible for good decisions.lol). When you think about it, we are just plain rude. Our mothers gave birth to us, she was up all night when we were sick, she made sure we had everything we needed, we always had a roof over our head (even though my father claims that was his doing..lol), a warm meal every night, a cozy clean bed to sleep in, and clean clothes to wear. But for some reason we blame them. We know that no matter what we do or say, they will always love us. So of course we take advantage of that.
I have 3 sisters, and let me tell you, it’s not as fun as you may think it is.lol. We almost always compared our body parts..lol. Seriously, we did, and still do. Noony got dad’s nose.lol, Gina got Zia Franca’s legs, Am got Nonno’s aunt’s ass, and I got my mother’s thighs..lol. My great Italian, thighs. Why didn’t I get her full, C cup boobies?
I guess we are all guilty of wishing our kids inherit certain parts, like eye colour, height, even intelligence. But in the end, it really doesn’t matter what we inherit (even though sometimes it is really scary when I look in the mirror and I see my mother, more and more everyday..lol) If we begin to see our mother in us, then we must be getting old..lol.
I know the day will come when my daughters will sit around comparing body parts and pointing out all the bad and maybe some of the good parts. I can say, look at the family photos and you figure out where it came from. I remember the days when I would say to my mother “Ma, thanks a lot, for giving me your thighs.lol” and she would always answer back, “Who the hell should I blame?” I say, blame your mother, and tell her what I tell you, “Ma, it’s all your fault, I got your thighs.”..lol.
That’s my peace today!

Grilled Chicken Pesto Pasta
2 chicken breasts
1/4 cup of pesto
1/4 cup mushrooms
1 pack of pasta (I usually use Farfalle or Penne)
4 tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper

Salt and pepper chicken, place on grill. Cook evenly for about 15 minutes (Until no longer pink) Cut into strips or chunks (however way you like it). Set aside. Cook pasta as directed, strain. In a pan pour olive oil, saute mushrooms, add chicken pasta and pesto. Toss for about 2 minutes and remove from heat.

That awful thing, called Love

Before we had kids life was pretty easy and care free. If you wanted to go for dinner, you went for dinner. If you wanted to take a trip to Paris, you went to Paris. There was no worry about anything beyond you, and what the hell you were going to pack, how many shoes you were going to buy, and how many men you were going to meet..lol. Living your life, only worrying about you, yourself, and I. You loved your parents, sometimes you loved your siblings, you kind of pretended to love your friends (except me, I loved all my friends..lol) and you maybe loved some man (or woman) in your life. You didn’t really think about anything bad that can happen. Listening to the news was no problem, you would feel a little bad, flip the channel and move on. Boy, did things change after the birth..lol. When you become a parent, you become a vulnerable, mushy, extra sensitive, eye watering, soft hearted big piece of mush. Your whole vision of life changes. Every decision you make, affects the life of another person. It is an unconditional love that you will only understand once you have entered the realm of parenthood. You will forgive, forget and forbid a lot more. Trips to Paris; become trips to Disneyland. Planning does not consist of how many shoes do I bring, but, don’t forget the Rosary for the plane ride..lol. Emotions are raw and out there. You wear your heart on your sleeve. You learn that your life is more valued because you need to be around, to raise them. You realize that you may sometimes not “like” your child (which my mother tells me quite often.lol) but you always love them. You have that constant nagging worry and fear of the world and what’s out there. You become a savage if someone touches or harms your child (unless it’s you beating them.lol) You work and want all for them so that they can have everything life has to offer. I saw an Italian movie when I was a kid and it was called “Zappatore”, translation “The Farmer”. It was about an Italian farmer who raised his son and worked hard, day and night just so his son could become more than what he was. His son became a successful lawyer in the city and was marrying a rich girl from the city, all the while forgetting about his father and the roots he came from. The father went out to find his son on his wedding day to tell him the mother was ill and that she wanted to see her son for the last time. (I won’t tell you how it ended.lol) He forgave his son for the shame he carried because he was his father and he loved him still. Parents love unconditional. We love from the heart, we love from the soul. We reach out to help another parent in need, or another child in need, because we think, what if that was my child? Your life does change forever, it makes you a different person, a softer person a more responsible person. Children make us better people, they teach us that it’s not about the money we make, but it’s about the fun we make with them. They teach us that sometimes life doesn’t go as planned, and that we may forget to bring extra shoes, but we will not forget to bring the first aid kit.
A childless couple once asked me this question, “How is it being a parent?” and I answered, “It’s awful”. They looked at me with a confused look? I went on to explain, “It’s awful because it’s so amazing, we love so much, so hard, so full, that it just consumes us. The love of a child is painful because you want so much to protect and shelter them, that your heart fills with worry and love, all at the same time.” They kind of understood what I was saying (or maybe they thought I had drunk too much wine). I could not verbally explain to them, the love of a child. To know the love of a child, you have to become a parent. No words, books or songs can explain to anyone else the way it feels, you will have to feel it for yourself, and when you do, you will know. When you bring your child home, your future becomes theirs. That’s when you will feel that awful thing called love.
That’s my peace today!

Bolognese Sauce
1 pound minced meat
1/2 white onion finely chopped
1 clove garlic finely chopped
1 can tomato paste
1 jar tomato sauce
salt to taste
1/4 cup of Olive oil
(optional, chopped carrots and mushrooms)

Pour oil in saucepan, heat, add onions, garlic and meat (if you are going to add carrots/mushrooms add now). Cook until brown, add paste, stir then add jar of sauce. Bring to boil, add salt. Simmer on medium heat for another hour or so. Leave on low until ready to serve.

Are you really going to do that?

Experts say that you shouldn’t threaten your kids unless you are really going to go through with it. When you follow through with your punishment, you will see a change in your childs behaviour. All I have to say to that is, ha ha ha. What kind of children are they analysing? Lol. I don’t think the study was done in the past 20 years. Maybe they still have the old copy, when kids once listened to their parents and when a threat was a threat. When I was little and my mother threatened me, ie. If you don’t stop that silly behaviour then we are not going to Wonderland, then guess what? If i didn’t stop my silly behaviour, I DID NOT GO TO WONDERLAND! She didn’t care that she had promised to take me, and that we were all in the car, I wasn’t listening and now we all had to be punished. Birthday parties were the same. If she had originally allowed me to go to a friends’ party and I got in trouble at school, or at home. Then you can bet your ass that I wasn’t going to witness my friend blow out a candle, how can you see candles being blown out from your room? Those were the days when parents followed through with the threats. They didn’t care if they had to call that mother and let her know that “Diana will not be coming to Laura’s party anymore because she got in trouble at school.” Laura’s mother wasn’t judging my mother and thinking how mean she was, no, because that is what parents did. Followed through with a punishment. Laura’s mother would respond by saying, “No problem Mrs.Colosimo, I understand, did you give her a good beating too?”..lol. I have to admit that I am guilty of the non following through with threats syndrome. I will huff and puff and repeat and repeat and say, “If you guys don’t stop then we are not going to Nonna’s house.” The problem is, I want to go to Nonna’s, so if they screw it up for me then I don’t want to follow through with it. Sometimes, if we are on our way to a friends’ birthday party and I throw out the “If you guys don’t stop, I am turning around” line. They know damn well I won’t be turning around. Empty threats, that’s all they are. When my mother promised me a beating when we get home, you better believe I got the beating. There was no negotiating out of it. We don’t want to sacrifice our outings for their behaviours. My mother would just take the extra new time that she now had (thanks to my misbehaviour) to do a load of laundry or clean out the drawers. That was the way it was. A parent made the rules and the children obeyed them. They knew that if they cancelled our party or a trip to Wonderland we would still love them. Parents today are afraid that their kids will be mad at them and they may hate us forever and ever. We don’t want to be mean parents and let them miss out on anything they might have fun doing..what kind of parents would we be? Other parents like us will say, “you’re not really going to do that are you?” It is just easier to turn up the radio, drown out their screaming voices and pretend that you just didn’t hear them, because let’s be honest..Are we really going to turn around and go home? Probably not.
That’s my peace today!

Lentil Soup
1 can lentils
1/2 cup white rice
1/4 cup peas
2 carrots diced
1 white potato diced
1 tomato diced
1/4 cup olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

In a saucepan, heat oil, add all the vegies, saute for about 5 minutes. Add 3-4 cups of water or stock (if you add stock you do not have to add salt), bring to boil. Lower to medium heat and cook for about 45 minutes. Raise heat again and add uncooked rice, boil for another 10 minutes.

It's all in a name

Growing up in an Italian household, life was pretty much simple. You had an Zio(uncle) Tony, a Zia(Aunt) Maria and a cousin Joe. There was never confusion either, because they were all classified in a very simple way. It was Zio Tony of Zio Mimmo and Zio Tony of Zio Pasquale. Or it was, little Joe and big Joe. When there were 2 little Joes (which there always was), then it was little Joe of Zia Lina and little Joe of Zia Maria. That’s what Italians do, they keep things simple. When an Italian opens up an auto body shop (there are many Italian mechanics..lol), they don’t research a name or think long and hard about it. They want you to know that they are a body shop so they sit around for a whole 2 minutes, look at their wives and say, “what about the name, Tony’s Auto Body Shop”. The wife says, “What a great idea” and it’s done. Pizzeria’s..same thing. How many Tony, Joe’s or Pasquale Pizzeria’s have you seen?..Millions. That’s because they are to the point. My name is Tony and I own a Pizzeria. Italian’s stay very true to their names. They are passed on from generation to generation. When you have kids, it’s a given..you are naming your father in law and your mother in law. Then if you have any more you can finally choose your own name. Modern Italians are breaking away from this, they are actually thinking out of the box. Sometimes too out of the box. If your last name is DiPasquale and you name your son Sean, it sounds a little bit of an oxymoron. My name is Sean DiPasquale or Tammy Bartolameo..lol. Modern Italian women are sticking up for their “pushing” rights. Their theory, “if we push this baby out, then it’s my choice to name it”. Its bad enough most children take the husband’s last name, we even have to name their parents?? What is up with that? The women that do think out of the box and don’t name their father –in- laws are considered, scustumata (Italian for disgusting..lol). They are pretty much talked about for umm; let’s see...their entire life. They are used in “bad examples” of a what kind of a bad daughter in law you might end up with..lol. The name they do choose for their child is the ugliest name you can possibly use (according to the in-laws). The parents say things like “I can’t even say da name”..lol..yes your right, Allessio is really hard for an Italian to say..lol. Nowadays we actually buy name books and discuss the choices with our spouses, can you imagine that? My father’s famous line is “A name doesn’t make a person, the person makes the name.” I guess that makes sense when you think about it. It’s not your name that counts; it’s the kind of person you are. So when you see a Tony’s Auto Body Shop(and I am sure you will), you will know that his name is Tony and he fixes cars.
That’s my peace today!

Stuffed Rapini and Sausage Pizza
2 pizza doughs
1 bunch Rapini
1 clove garlic
1/4 c olive oil
2 italian sausages
1 c shredded mozzarella

Remove skin from sausage, cut up and cook in pan. Set aside. Boil rapini for about 10 minutes. Cool, drain water, cut up and saute with oil and crushed garlic. Put in bowl with sausages.
Lay 1 dough out flat on pan (oil and flour pan). Put rapini, sausage and mozzarella on dough. Take other dough roll out until it gets large enough to place on top of bottom dough. Lay over mixture and dough, close sides with fingers, poke a small hole in middle so air gets through. Spread thin layer of oil on top piece. Place in oven at 425 degrees for about 20 minutes. Make sure bottom and top are golden.

Her name is Mary and she is a mother

I don’t usually like to talk about sad things or sad stories, but sometimes it is necessary to do. Yesterday I found out that a family member of a friend of mine, is not doing well. This woman was diagnosed with Leukemia years ago, it was in remission and on Tuesday, she just got news that it is back. It is now in her bone marrow. She is a woman with cancer and she is a mother. She is a mother to 2 young,beautiful boys who still need her. 2 boys that don’t know the battle their mother is in for, 2 boys that will witness a fight against Cancer. It brings me to tears to think about her pain. Not only the physical pain that she is enduring, but the emotional pain that is overwhelming her entire fight. The worry about her children’s future, and them potentially growing up without her. Her husband’s despair, knowing that he may be losing his wife, his best friend, his soul mate, his life partner. The woman he vowed to marry many years ago, to honour, love, and cherish until death due them part. His fear of raising his son’s without a mother, a woman, a role model. Cancer has affected millions of women and families around the world. We all do our best to walk, run, donate, research and fight. We have come a long way to where we began, and we still have a long way to go. Every family has had cancer affect them in some way. My mother was diagnosed with cancer over 25 years ago, and I am thankful to say that she won her fight. She had 4 daughters to raise. God, her family, her friends and her doctors helped her win. It is a battle that has been lost, and a battle that has been won. I ask you today; please pray for her and her family in her fight against Cancer. Let’s pray for all women and mothers who may not be there to see their children grow. Let’s not think about the petty things, but let’s focus on the real things. The real life of Cancer and the real life of war, against Cancer. Let’s join our hearts and hands and let’s say enough already! Her name is Mary, she is a mother and she has Cancer!
That's my peace today!

Taralli (Italian hard bread)
(in light of my blog, taralli are shaped like the ribbon of Hope)

2 cup water
1 cup Oil
1 package yeast
Salt
Flour (you will gradually add into consistency of a dough)
4 tbsp anise seeds (or chilli flakes if you want spicy)

Mix all ingredients (minus the flour), once all combined add the flour until you reach consistency (about 3-4 cups or so. Once it forms into a dough, cut pieces (about the size of an apricot) and roll into long rope. Shape into ribbon. Lay flat on pan. Bake in oven at 350 degrees for 20-40 min (golden brown).

Whose Line is it Anyway

When I was growing up, my parents always had a solution to my problems and answers to my questions. It was very simple, the solution was always..just stay home, and the answer to most of my questions was.. no! That was it, there was no explanation needed, they didn’t have to sit me down to tell me why I couldn’t meet all my friends at the movies and they didn’t care that I was the “only one” not going on the trip to Quebec, it was a simple, no. My father said to me (in his Italian accent)”Diana, I tella you what, if you tella me, that you dee only ona that don’t go on da trip, you canna go.” So of course I didn’t want to tell him that I wasn’t the only one not going, it was me and pretty much the geek squad who stayed back, and not because the geeks weren’t allowed to go, they just chose to stay behind because they might miss out on their tournament card game. So, it was pretty much me and the nerds on wheels. My mother didn’t even let me stay home and skip, because she said, “Diana, the school will know your lying that you’re sick because the rest of the class is in Quebec and I can’t lie”..ahh the good memories of learning how to play briscola in the gym at recess..lol.

My parents always had an answer for everything. “Ma, can I have $20?” Her response, “$20?20? What do you need $20 bucks for? Look outside, do you see a money tree out there? Because if you do, let me know and I will just go outside and pick money!” Then there was the famous, “Diana, this hurts me more than it hurts you.” And I would be thinking, “really, how could this hard wooden shoe on MY ASS be hurting you???”..lol. My father’s famous line and one he still uses “Believe me, we doing dis for your own good”..lol. ya sure dad, missing out on the hottest house party on Friday night is really going to help shape my future as a doctor..lol. Like seriously, give me a break..lol.
The lines they came up with just blew my mind, like where the hell did they come up with these lines? Did all parents meet once a week and discuss the stupidest things to answer when kids asked questions? Maybe we were just really dumb, because I think if we used those lines on our millennium children, they would laugh and say, “ya in fact there is a money tree outside, it’s the one you just bought at Home Dept..look mommy the tag even reads “money tree”..lol. So like how do you respond to that? I think our kids are just smarter than we were. We didn’t challenge anything our parents said, we just said “ma, why can’t I go?” and she would say, “Because I said so!” and we would just walk away and think oh ok I guess that makes sense..lol. Our kids would say, “Umm, like, because you said so, so doesn’t make sense mommy, like seriously what are you saying?” then we as parents would again think oh ok, I guess that makes sense, that didn’t make sense. You know why they would tell us our lines are stupid, because they are. They were back then, and they still are today. I say, we find out who the hell came out with those lines, who started passing them around? Like, seriously, whose line is it anyway?
That's my peace today!

Penne a la Vodka
1 pack penne or pennine
1/4 cup vodka
1/2 cup cooking cream
1 jar tomato sauce
1/4 cup chopped bacon
2 tbs olive oil
salt to taste
chopped parsley for garnish

In a pot heat oil, add chopped onions and bacon. Sautee for about 5 min. Add tomato sauce, bring to boil. Once the sauce is almost cooked, add vodka and cream. Bring to boil for another 15 minutes. Cook pasta as directed. Pour sauce and serve, sprinkle fresh chopped parsley.

7 days is all you need

So if you are anything like me, sometimes you look at other people and wish just for one moment you can switch places with them. Besides wanting to change places with Dorthea (Jon Bon Jovi’s wife..lol) I have often looked at the single women of today, and for just 1 week, I would love to be them. I have an older sister (Noon, I love you) that I would just love, love, love to change places with..lol. She is not married (she escaped that whole process), she has her own house (without a man..or kids..lol) and she has a social life.lol. Like, a real one. Like, plans on the weekend, plans during the week, she even has plans after work, who has plans after work? The only plans I have after work is picking up the kids from the bus stop or maybe a quick trip to Fortino’s. Plans for me are not part of the agenda. There is no meeting my other single friends at Chapters or meeting for a stroll at the mall, or going for a Martini on a Friday night in Yorkville..nope, for us married mommies, it is day at mom and tot groups,or dropping one kid off at gymnastics and bringing the other one to hockey, or going to the Paediatrician for a check up or because your kids were barfing their brains out overnight and have a running fever of 40 degrees and you are living off of 2 hours sleep. Nope, there are no cocktails at 7pm, or Saturday night plans. We are not single, we are attached..lol.literally, by the hip, by the leg and by the brain. This is where the saying “Are you single or attached” came from, because people before us knew what we were in for, and attached meant, attached..lol. In the olden days women that didn’t marry, were labelled as spinsters..lol..what the hell is a spinster? I would hear my mother saying things like, “oh that lady, you know, Nonna’s friend..she’s a spinster..she never got married”. I would silently think to myself..what the hell does spinning have to do with marriage? Then I got married and I realized why they are called spinsters..because they are spinning with joy..lol. Nowadays we call women that didn't get married.."lucky bitches".lol. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and I wouldn’t trade those little annoying creatures for anything in the world, but I think, maybe for 1 small short week, I would like to wake up in my sister’s bed all alone, meet her single friends at Chapters, make dinner for 1, and buy one of those tea for 1 cups..lol and I would like to ask her, if she wants to play a little game called “Freaky Friday”... just for 7 short days.
That’s my peace today!

Roasted Whole Chicken
1 Roast Chicken (washed and insides removed)\
3 whole carrots coursly chopped
1 white onion coursly chopped
4 or 5 potatoes peeled and cut in large pieces
3 large springs of fresh parsley
salt to taste
black pepper to taste
1 tsp dried basil
1 tsp dried rosemary
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp dried basil
4 tbs Olive oil

Place chicken in roasting pan, arrange parsley, carrots, potatoes and onion around chicken. Rub the oil on the chicken. Combine all dry spices in a bowl, once mixed rub all spices on every part of chicken. Add salt and pepper to both chicken and vegtables. Cover and cook in oven at 420 degrees for about 1 hour to 1 and a half (should be golden and crispy) You can remove lid for the last 15 minutes.

Parents start at dawn

We all know there are very many hectic moments when you have kids. Whether you have 1 kid, 2 kids or 6 kids, life is full of very busy days. Between schedules and cooking and homework and cleaning and bedtime and bathtime, (you get my point) there is barely any time left over. The appointments written out on the calendar, emergency numbers on the fridge and the shopping list maybe somewhere in your purse. Social evenings away from your kids, is few and far between, and at that, finding someone who actually wants to come over and stay with them, is a task on its own. Why? Because we are parents and our job as parents is to wake up every morning at the crack of dawn with 4 extra bodies in our bed, make breakfast for 4 extra bodies, dress 4 extra bodies, bathe 4 extra bodies, cook with bodies hanging off our legs and read bedtime stories at night. This is our job, but eventually the morning visits in bed will disappear, breakfast will be a granola bar to go, they will dress themselves, bathe themselves, prepare their own meal because what you prepared is just too fattening, the hanging off the leg will turn into hanging off your wallet for weekend money, and the only bedtime stories will be the ones you read to yourself. This is what raising a family is all about. We do our best to take care of them from the day they come home. We love, hug, cuddle, kiss and adore them. We teach, preach, pray and hope for them. We yell, shout and cry for them. We save, sacrifice and sweat for them. They are our kids and we are their parents and our job is to raise and praise them until the day we leave this earth. We are proud, we are sad, we are mad and sometimes we are just flippin fed up. We can’t quit because we know that they need us. My parents spent all day in a garage yesterday filling 200 jars of tomato sauce because their very grown up kids need them to make a nice plate of pasta. Although I appreciate it, I know they don’t have to do it. They do it because they are my parents and their job is not over.

Children grow taller, wider and wiser from the day we bring them home. They go through many stages of life, and before we know it, they are out of our bed and into the world, so thank God we enjoyed the cuddles at the crack of dawn.
That's my peace today!

Italian Flag Risotto
1 pack of arborio rice
1/4 pesto
1/4 cooked tomato sauce
1/4 olive oil
1/2 cup shredded mozzarella

Boil rice as directed, salt to taste. Remove from pot once cooked. Split rice in 3 parts. I part add oil, second add pesto and third add cooked sauce. Arrange in a baking dish to resemble the Italian flag (green, whit, red) Sprinkle mozzarella on top, cover with foil and bake for about 10 minutes (enough to melt cheese)

What position are you looking for?

I don’t know about you, but when I got pregnant there was no application to fill out. Once the decision was made to go ahead and start “trying”.lol..(I think it’s hilarious when people say,”oh we’re trying” or “we’re still practicing”..lol) because as we all know couples decide pretty much right away when the “right” time is..lol..right time? Now, if you are already a mother you know that there is no “right” time because in the end, when you pop that baby out (or 2 at a time like me..lol), you end up thinking to yourself in your many post partum depression days of “what the hell did I do, this was soooo the wrong time to be doing this”. Then you of course you get over that, after about 4 weeks of blubbering, wishing all your visitors got lost and can’t find your house to come and visit the baby, and that your really annoying husband would just shut up and go buy a chastity belt so this never happens again (well that thought may NEVER go way..lol) and you love this little bundle of joy that has entered your life. We are very lucky today. We have ultrasounds, monthly visits to the OBGYN and of course the ever so wonderful and sensational EPIDURAL. Our mothers (maybe that’s why they always have a pickle up their ass..lol) actually had no pain medication to relieve the ever so unbearable pain of labour (there are some women today..Ms.Sylvia..lol..that went through childbirth without meds and I say, they must have been on other kind of drugs to even make that ridiculous choice.lol) Or maybe it was their husbands that convinced them to go “natural”. Natural my ass, there is no natural thing of an 8lb creature coming out of you and then calling that thing “a baby”. Yes, it is the most amazing experience you will ever have and we are lucky to have gone through it, but I’m just saying drugs make the process just that much easier. So after they come out, we bring them home and then that’s it, we are on our own. Yes, most of us have our mothers come over and tell us all the things they did when we were babies and say things like, “oh you girls are afraid to do anything with these babies, we always had you on your stomach, we smoked beside your crib and we drank while breastfeeding and you guys came out ok”..lol. I guess she’s right, and they really do have more experience than us, I mean, they already went through the “up all night” stage, the “take that out of your mouth” stage, the “ok, let’s try to go potty” stage, the “i’m your mother, and i’m telling you have to eat that” stage, the “No, you can’t take the car tonight” stage, and the “No, you can’t date him, because he’s old enough to be your father” stage. So they must know a little more than us. Because let’s face it, all us mothers today think we know the “right” way to do things and that the way we do things works for everyone. If you’re a mother than you will know that is definitely not true. As the old saying goes, “kids don’t come with a manual” we have to improvise as we go along. There is no job description in this, it’s all “do as you see fit” and “always do what’s best for the family”. We do become our mothers in our growing ages and stages of motherhood. Our children will then become us, it is the circle of life. There is no application for motherhood, it’s a “one size fits all” position and an “apply at your own risk”. Eventually, you fill in the job description when you become a grandmother and reminisce about the days when you were putting your baby on its back and drinking milk while breastfeeding, so that your daughter or daughter in law could maybe take some of that information to fill in for their job description, which will eventually read “Mother; full time, always!”
That’s my peace today!

Pasta ane Piselli (peas)
1 pack Bow tie Pasta
1/2 chopped white onion
1 cup peas
water (as needed to cook peas)
1/4 c olive oil
parmesan cheese (grated)

Cook pasta as directed. Saute onions with 1 tbs of the oil, add peas and cook adding water as needed and salt as needed. Cook for about 20 min. Once peas are fully cooked add the cooked pasta and the rest of the oil. Cook for 2 min, top with parmesan.

We have become Brazilian women

Women have always been women. Men, well, they unfortunately have always been..well..men..lol. It was and has always been a woman’s job to be beautiful and sexy. Not just for her man, but for herself. But I am here to tell all you women and men..times have changed and by gosh darn it, so have the women. I cannot believe the way women take care of themselves today. I find myself staring at women (and my gate don’t swing that way..lol) 40 year olds today, look like 20 year olds back then. We have lulu lemon tights for the gym, True Religion for the mall and Gucci bags for the evening. I remember when I was 10 and my mother’s friends were in their 30’s (of course that was ancient to me then, now it is so hot..lol) and they would wear their skirts to the knee and buttoned up blouses (I don’t even think that word exists anymore..lol) and of course the brown nylons and the conservative shoes. On a casual day it was a skirt to the knee, a less fancy blouse and the hard wooded Italian shoes (which are now back in style and made by Dr.Shouls..so they are much softer and will do less damage if flung off the head..lol). I won’t even get into the underwear they wore..the term “grandma undies” was invented in those days, except it wasn’t grandmothers wearing them, it was the 20 year olds. Anyway, that was the way they dressed. Toes, definitely not pedicured, fingernails.. no manicure, only the 99 cent red nail polish they picked up at Woolco and did at home to themselves. That was the way most women were back then. Oh and well the hair removal process..yup that was different too..they had actual razors to shave and in some “sensitive areas” in which that blade never saw or cut..lol)because Dio (God) put hair "there" for a reason..lol. Money was not spent on being beautiful, they were raising a family and money was put away and left for the kids necessities not for their fiserias (Italian word for not important). Well boy..have things changed..lol. See, now we have terms like DIVA’s, a MILF(Mother I would love to f@ck) and of course Cougars! Women (deserve it, I may add) take care of themselves. We have realized that we are not just mothers, but we are women first! Call us selfish, call us crazy but I say call us “yummy mummy’s”. We are joining gyms, yoga classes and kick boxing training. We are spending time and money on the “me” necessities and enjoying every minute of it. And yes, we want flowa for 5 dolla..lol. We are going to spas, salons and laser clinics on a regular basis (hell, we have memberships..lol) and they are on every corner. Why? Because we work, in or outside the home and we want to be moisturized, hydrated and deoderized..lol.we want to be free, fresh, polished and once a month, maybe even Brazilian..lol.
That’s my peace today!

Meatballs
1 pound ground veal or beef
1 egg
2 tbs grated paremesan cheese
3 tbs finely chopped parsley
1/4 cup bread crumbs
1/2 cup hard bread or sliced bread
salt to taste

In a bowl, combine meat, egg, cheese, parsley, bread crumbs and salt. If you are using hard bread(it is good to keep unused bread in a paper bag to use for meatballs) put under water to soften and then squeeze all the water out, mash with your hands and mix in the meat mixture. If you are using sliced bread break it up (without wetting it) and put in mixture. You can combine both if you choose just make sure you dont put too much because the meatballs will get too soft and break apart. Once everything is mixed with your hands, take pieces and roll into balls (you can make as big as you like). You can fry, or bake them. I bake them at 385 degrees for 15 minutes and then I add them to my cooking sauce. Make sure you continue to boil in sauce if not cooked through.

Happy Days are gone

I was raised in the 80’s, I know that seems impossible since I am only 25..lol..but I was. TV back then was all about families. Wholesome watching television shows that gave you that warm fuzzy feeling when you watched them. The ever so touching message by the end of the show and the lessons you learned by them. I always wanted to be part of these families because they seemed so “normal” because of course, my family was not..lol. There was no yelling, slamming doors or parents chasing the kids around the house because their room was a mess. My father once (this is a true story) removed all of our bedroom doors because we did not fix our bed…lol..he literally went to all 4 bedrooms, hinge by hinge and took them off. I was coming home, when I saw my oldest sister Nancy walking across the hallway with her door in her arms carrying back to her room..lol..when I asked her what the hell she was doing she just said,”your father is nuts”..lol..because at that moment she didn’t want to be related to him..lol. Eventually he agreed to put back all the doors and we of course never left our bed undone again. That is a lesson learned. So when I was watching shows like, Family Ties, The Cosby Show, Growing Pains and of course Who’s The Boss, it made me feel like my parents were a bunch of crazy lunatics and they were such nice normal parents. The Keatons, wow they were the cool hippie parents who used to get caught making out in the kitchen. I only witnessed my parents give each other a peck on the lips at Christmas or Birthdays..lol and I still cringed at the sight of that. They were shows that represented the good wholesome “All American” Family. Today our kids have shows like 2 ½ Men (which is very funny I may add), and well..umm…I can’t think of anything else because guess what? There is no family wholesome shows anymore. Now when you flip the channels from Monday through Sunday all you will find are Reality shows; Hell’s Kitchen (where every other word if F@ck), The Bachelor, Dancing With the Stars, American Idol, Survivor (the biggest cut throat people that want to win$1million) and The Biggest Loser, just to name a few. Every week someone gets kicked off and then by the end of its season there is a winner. I have to admit, I am heavily addicted to these shows, but I am also sorry to say that my kids like watching them with me. What lessons are they learning? That a man gets to choose from 20 women and send them home when he realizes that he’s not hot for them? Or that people that struggle with weight loss want to get thin to fit in. I know this is a part of everyday life but is that all we have left? Does this mean that we as parents today actually have to teach our kids the right and wrong with every situation?..lol. Our parents had “The Fonz” to teach us that. How about Three’s Company, there was always a misunderstanding that got cleared up in the end. Those were the days of family viewing and learning. Those were the days of parents looking more “normal” than your own..lol, today are we the “normal” parents to our kids and they think eating raw fish eggs to win money and jumping off a cliff to be the ultimate Fear Factor champion is a great and easy way to make a few bucks. Because it is a reality, real tv shows are gone.
That’s my peace today!

Veal Parmigiano
6 Veal Cutlets
3 cups of cooked sauce
1/2 cup mozzarella
1/2 cup breadcrumbs
4 tbs parmesan cheese
2 tbs chopped parsley
2 eggs
1/4 cup milk

Bang out veal to flatten. Beat eggs and milk in a bowl. Put breadcrumbs, cheese, parsley in square pan. Dip veal in egg mix, then dip into bread mixture. Fry cutlets in oil and put aside. In a baking dish, put a layer of cooked sauce at bottom of pan place cutlets on pan, pour sauce evenly on each cutlet and sprinkle with mozzarella. Cover and bake at 400 degrees for about 1 hour.

Even Betty Crocker will do

So as all of you know I come from an Italian background, and also, as all of you know, Italians LOVE to eat. Everything we do revolves around food; birthdays, baptisms, communions, confirmations, weddings and of course, funerals. When there is a large social gathering of Italians almost 99% of the women bring na piccola cosa (something small). But when they say na piccola cosa (something small) that means, 2 homemade salami’s, freshly fried rice balls, veal cutlets, stuffed eggplants, watermelon and a tray of cookies that they took out of the freezer from their daughter’s wedding from the year before. The funny thing about these gatherings is that since everyone is bringing something, then that means there should be no stress..lol..ya right, my mother was a mess and a stress ball getting ready for these social visits and gatherings. Cook this, bake that, fry that and cut that. But I have to give credit where credit is due, they made everything from scratch! From the heart and from the sole (even the soles of their feet when squishing the grapes for wine..lol). One of my fondest memories is when my mother made her alcohol infested sponge cakes. It was “an all occasion kind of cake”(she made it for everything).lol. I remember like it was yesterday, she would crack 85 eggs, 10 pounds of flour, 8 pounds of sugar and 30 cups of Grand Marnier..lol..no, but seriously you could not eat that cake if you were; dieting, a diabetic, or if you were an alcoholic..lol. But the important thing was not the cake, the important part was the talks we had. It was always the scoop of the week about some cousins, friends, or friends dating cousins. My favourite part was of course, licking the spoon and the bowl afterwards. Mmmm we would lick the crap out of it, me and my sisters would pick our own sides and sections of the bowl . My mother always made sure not to scrape too much of the batter so there was enough. We didn’t worry about the raw eggs we were ingesting because there was so much alcohol that would have killed any bacteria or salmonella poison...lol. Those were some very special bonding times that I will not forget. All the beatings and hits with the slipper off the head, were all forgotten in those moments..lol. These memories came into my head just last night when I was baking (from scratch..lol) with my kids. The older 2 were both on the counter, one stirring, the other measuring and pouring the ingredients in the bowl. Then they asked me, “Mommy can we lick the bowl?” and my immediate response was “No, are you crazy there is raw egg in this and you will get salmonella poison!” but then I stopped and I thought about my special days of getting hammered with my sisters licking the bowl (which wasn’t the fun part, but it helped..lol) and I said, “Yes guys, not too much because it will make you feel sick, just let mommy pour some strong alcohol in there to kill the bacteria..lol”. Even though they didn’t get to lick the bowl to the entirety, they still got to lick it. And with those licks, stirs and pours we shared moments in time that will bring memories to them when they stir batter with their kids...even if it’s just a Betty Crocker!
That’s my peace today!

Italian Garlic Bread
1 large soft baguette
1/2 cup of olive oil
2 cloves garlic finely chopped
1 tbs dried oregano

Slice the loaf in half (long way) but not all the way through leave one half uncut, open like a sandwich, In a bowl mix oil, garlic and oregano. Pour in open bread, once all poured, close bread and spread all the oil seeping through on all the outside of the loaf. Place on pan in oven for about 15 min at 385 degrees.

Always check the warning label

How can we possibly keep up today with safety? I mean it’s in everything we do and need. Car seats, not just 1, no way, there is 1 for every stage. Infant car seat, then 2 in 1, 3 in 1, then rear facing, front facing, booster chair. Air bags, side, front, rear. Helmets for bikes, rollerblades, skating, Does it ever end? They even have “Car Seat clinics set up just in case you don’t install your car seat correctly. I mean, are we being overly cautious or is all this necessary. Yes, I know statistics don’t lie and studies have shown the use of car seats and helmets help save lives and I am all for saving lives. I just want to know why they were not around when we were growing up? I don’t know about you, but I don’t even think my mother put a lifejacket on me when I went near a body of water. Taboganing, that was down a hill next to about 150 trees, ending with the Humber river below..lol. Did she ever worry that maybe my little tiny 60lb body (some things never change..lol) would fly into a tree and then maybe end up in the half frozen river??? Lol. I don’t think those things even crossed her mind. She just bundled us up in our snowsuits and boots and kind of pushed us down (that was when she actually came and supervised..lol). Skating, ya that too was done with no head gear, just plain old hats and earmuffs, that was our protection from the icy floor, puffs on our ears. There were no car seats, strollers with straps, helmets for cycling. Roller skating was and is, probably the most dangerous sport on wheels and it was around when we were growing up. I know a paesano (someone from the same Italian town) who fell while roller skating and she lost her 2 front teeth. Her mother brought her to the dentist capped her teeth and 2 days later she was back on wheels. There was no paranoia and fear of “what if” it happens again. My house is full of locks..safety locks. Locks on doors, drawers, cabinets, toilet seats. In my house growing up there was not one safety lock (except on the liquor cabinet when I was a teenager.lol). Everything was “enter at your own risk”. We were left unattended in the bath because there were no warnings on the bathtub (never leave child unattended) it was “get in the water and I’ll come get you when you are wrinkly and pruny”..lol. My mother left me and my sister in the bathtub for hours (water getting cold and all) and my sister (who is only 3 years older) thought it was funny to push my head underwater and see how long I can stay there before the bubbles would come up..lol..every time she would try even longer. My mother had no clue on to what was going on upstairs. If we were quite then that meant we were safe..lol.. I check on my son when he is taking a shower to make sure he didn’t swallow too much water..lol. Times are different now, we are bombarded with safety labels on everything we buy. Toys, strollers, cars, bikes and even on the things that are for safety. If you read the label on a floating device it is written in bold writing (Do not use as a floating device..lol) ok, if i’m not supposed to use it as a floating device then why am I using it as a floating device??? Safety, it is all around us. Wearing seatbelts while driving is now an essential part. If you choose to risk your own life and not wear a seatbelt well then you are getting a big fat ticket. Cops didn’t care back in the day, they would pull you over and just laugh and say “ok Ms, but next time maybe you should wear a seatbelt”. That was it, no ticket came with the warning. Our lives are now filled with safety and warning. Games have age groups listed on them . “Not suitable for kids aged 3 and under” or “this toy contains small pieces and may cause choking if swallowed.” Where were those labels for our mothers? I’ll tell you where they were..in a factory waiting to be printed 20 years later for us mothers today to panic and worry every time someone brings a new toy to our kids. There is no more opening the box (which is almost impossible to do because there are more plastic wires holding every piece of the doll together that you cause a sweat when you try to pry it open and you end up cutting yourself and then cursing to every Saint in the book, to the company that packaged the toy, and to the person that bought your kid the toy) and giving it to your kid. Today when you get a toy for your child..please, don’t forget to check the label!
That’s my peace today!

Stuffed Peppers
6 red peppers (cut in half)
1/2 lb ground veal
2tbs olive oil
1 cup cooked minute or long grain rice
1/2 c shredded zucchini and carrots
1/4 chopped red or yellow pepper
1/2 c cooked tomoato sauce (optional)
2 eggs
1/4 parmesan cheese
1/2 bread crumbs
1/4 c chopped parsley or basil
1/2 c shredded mozzarella

Cook rice as directed and set aside. In a pan, fry ground veal with olive oil. Once thoroughly cooked remove from stove and cool. In a small pan sautee all the cut vegies and set aside. In a large bowl, combine meat, rice, add eggs, cheese, cooked veggies, breadcrumbs and chopped parsley or basil,(if you are adding tomato sauce combine in mixture). Once all combined, take mixture and stuff into the pepper half. Top with mozzarella, (you may also add tomato sauce on top), cover with foil and cook at 400 degrees for about 45 min to 1 hour (depending on your stove).

Today is a good day

I know I have been joking around and saying how excited I am that today is the first day of school. Although I am quite pleased this long summer has come to an end, I am also very excited for all the children today. This morning millions of kids in North America are getting ready for a new year back. A new teacher, new classroom and maybe some new friends. It is a day of new beginnings. Teachers are also going back (I think 10 weeks off is enough..lol) and I say thank you to them. Thanks for helping in the molding and growing of our children's young minds. We live in a very lucky part of the world and sometimes we forget that. Today we should think about all the children in countries that do not have a school to go to, or the ones that do have a school, but live in constant fear because they are in war torn countries. Our children have all the opportunities at their fingertips and we as parents, get to be part of their growth of life. So today, let's celebrate the gift of knowledge and the gift of school. Today lets say... WELCOME BACK!
That's my peace today!
The recipe I am writing today is a perfect afterschool snack that I make for my own kids.

Easy White Pizza
1 pizza dough( or home-made, see my recipe on my blog)
Olive oil (enough to spread generously on the whole flattened dough)
1 tsp Oregano
1 tsp Basil
dash of salt and pepper

Lay your pizza dough flat and spread on a greased and floured pan. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Pour Olive Oil and all spices and spread evenly. Put in oven for about 15-20 (until golden and crispy)
Remove and cut in pie shape or square pieces (depending on what pan you use)

Time Out on the "Time Outs"

Ok so i don’t know about you, but when i was growing up there was no such thing as a “time out”. I can just lol to the thought because even hearing those words coming out of my parents mouth would have been hilarious. See, when we acted up or misbehaved or answered back, there were no words..lol..no, there were just actions. I am not saying my parents beat me because that is not true, slightly beating would be more accurate..lol. No seriously, I don’t think I would have been trembling if my parents would threaten me with a 5 minute break away on a step. Not even when I was 3. It was Diana get over here, slap on the ass. It was done and over with all in a matter of 10 seconds. I cried and they felt satisfied..lol. (beating was a big stress reliever back then..lol.) We as parents today have to threaten once and then wait (because we all know they are going to do it again) and then boom, use the “ok Joseph, now you are going on a time out.” Then we wait, are they going to listen (and your thinking please listen and don’t move, please listen and don’t move), low and behold, they don’t listen. So in the advice of SuperNanny..(british accent) “You must keep putting them there using no words until they remain in the position and the spot you placed them in”..lol...lol..lol..I want to know what happens to those families after the cameras stop rolling and while Ms. Supernanny is out tanning her kidless ass somewhere??? Sometimes my mother would use the “time out” thing but it was more of a “time gone for 3 hours of the evening in my room” kind of thing. And me calling from the stairs (while she was enjoying the time away from me watching St.Elsewhere or something like that)...”ma,can i come down now”..no response..”Ma,can i come down now”..no response..so my voice got louder..”ma, can i come down now”..and then all at once..my mother yells “I said NO”..and i am thinking..you didn’t say anything because you didn’t even answer me..lol. So that was my mother’s version of a time out. Nowadays all these child therapists and specialists say “don’t slap, don’t yell, don’t curse, just give them a time out and that will teach them”..umm I don’t know, but I clearly remember the lines that came out of my mother’s mouth when she was running towards me with the hard wooden Italian slipper..”Come here..I’ll teach you”..lol..and let me tell you this..she did teach me...she taught me that Italian leather does hurt more than the “imitation leather”..lol. Ahh the good old days of kids fearing their parents, not fear like in a horror movie, but fear like..oh shit, thats gonna hurt if I get caught kind of fear. Respect was a big thing in my home (you know like Aretha Franklin R-E-S-P-E-C-T) I guess that’s an Italian thing like a Tony Soprano (it’s all about respect), so anyway my father was big on that and if God forbid we didn’t salute a neighbour, aunt, cousin, milkman or anyone older than us with a big smile and a hello then we’d get the “look”. So we pretty much kissed and said hello to almost anyone and everyone over 5 feet. My kids are pretty polite too with guests..lol..except they are warned about 50 times before they get there to be polite and maybe slightly rewarded afterwards..lol. Fear, it worked for my parents..i still love them and loved then at the time (except my mother in my rebellious teenage years..lol). I am not saying that us parents today should go out buy 3 wooden spoons and beat our little holy terrors, all I am saying is that most of us got a little tap, slap and bite here and there, and guess what..i survived to tell the tale..lol.
That’s my peace today!

Pasta e Fagioli
1 pack Ditalli pasta
1 can of canellini beans
1/2 White Onion finely chopped
1/4 cup pancetta
2 cup water
Salt 1tsp
Olive Oil

Boil pasta as directed on package. Put aside. On high heat, In a medium size pot, pour oil heat and add onions and pancetta, sautee for about 3-5 minutes. Add beans and sautee for another 2 minutes. Add 1 cup water (the beans will become a creamy consistency) then add rest of water, salt to taste. When it reaches a boil lower to medium, until slightly thick add cooked pasta.

Would you like fries with that?

It seems nowadays everywhere you go there’s a drive -through. To the point where our kids think it is a normal process to bank and ride. I mean, if you stop and think about it, we are too lazy to get out of our car to deposit money in our account. Our parents ran to the bank to deposit money. Banks were only open Mo-Fr 9am-3pm and 2pm on Fridays. For any other time they just stashed it in the mattress. The “Golden Arches” existed back then but they were very few and far between, now they are at every street corner to accommodate our ever so busy lives of eating fast food on the go. Are we lazy or busy? Do we have less time than our mothers did? Well, I can tell you that mothers today are busy. It’s not because we have less time than our mothers did because as we all know, you can’t stop, pause or fast forward time. We do it to ourselves..its called self stress.lol. All the sports, playgroups, dance, gymnastic..and don’t forget swimming and skating. My parents did put us in a extra curricular activity..key word “a”..like 1..uno...that’s it. You chose 1 thing you like and stick with it. There was no, “ma, I want to do ballet, tap, acro and gymnastics. Do you think my mother would drag all 4 of our asses in her car (yes we were fortunate, we had a car..lol) to bring me to tap, Am to ballet, Nancy to swimming and Gina to karate??? I think not. It was 1 sport on 1 day and 1 place...take it or leave it! If that year we didn’t like something we were able to change..but only once. There was no such thing as competitive this and Rep that. There was some of that going on but that was only the parents that were “pazza” (Italian for crazy).
Nowadays we are lucky if we have time to pee. Everything is fast paced and now now now. The “One Stop Shops”, the “Pay as you Go” and the “Don’t pay to 2035”. A regular phone line wasn’t enough so along came all the “extras”.
I remember wishing my mother would hurry up and get off her looooong boring conversation (I thought it was boring but my mother always seemed very interested and involved which made it even worse) with my aunt because I was waiting for Sandra to call and I couldn’t tell her to get off, I had to wait..patiently or she would purposely stay on longer..lol. So Bell introduced Call waiting..yippee..then.. Call display..wow we can see who is calling us and we can avoid (which we all know we have done many times..lol) who we didn’t want to speak to. Do you guys remember the Maestro??? It was like state of the art robot for phonecalls. We were one of the first ones to have the phone because Bell was doing a trial (I think my parents still have it in their house but you can’t see who’s calling anymore because it is half faded..lol) anyway once Maestro came out it was high rolling phone call technology. Need I go on to introduce the HUGE Motorola flip phone (my friend Sandy had it, we all shared it when we went out..lol) then the phones got smaller and smaller and technology faster and faster and well...yes the infamous “Crack” Berry. What the hell is sooo important that we have to type it and send it within a minute? Pictures..all digital. Our kids have become jpegs on our computers..lol. But isn’t this what we all wanted? Fast and furious...because we just have no time so tech companies made it better for us to get it done faster. Forget about Sundays at home with the family when all the stores were closed..nope..lets just choose 1 day in February and call that “Family Day”...doesn’t that make more sense? Lets replace the Game of Life with the latest NHL 2009 game..why not? And lets do our banking, coffee ordering, and ice-cream buying from a window..why park and walk when you can order and drive?
That’s my peace today!

Frittata

1 pack of cooked spagetti

1/2 c ricotta

4 large eggs

1/4 c grated parmesan

1/4 c chopped parsley and basil

1/4 c cooked chives

1 cooked Italian sausage (optional)

In a large bowl mix all ingrediants. In a large skillet (frisura) pour olive oil to coat bottom of pan. Once heated at med-high add the mix. While cooking make a very small hole in the middle to ensure contents cook through (about 10 min on each side). Using a large plate, slide cooked side onto plate and flip into pan to cook other side.

Back to school has always been in September

I was recently at Shoppers Drug Mart with my daughter and accidently walked through the aisle of..oh who am i kidding any aisle we walked in she "needed" something. So we got to the cuts and brusies aisle (dont know how they label it)..lol..and she spotted her "oh my God Mommy...please, please,please can i have those Barbie band aids????? So not to snap right away and say what my mother would have said..NO...i thought ok, let me get her the Barbie band aids just in "case" she needs them. Haha it wasnt until i saw how much they cost that my debating mode kicked in...i am not a "cheap" mother..lol..for this day in age but $3.99 for 10 band aids! My math is not that strong but i think that is 39c each band aid! So of course because i am a mother of today..i fold and get the band aids. Well, by the end of the day all those 10 band aids were gone! Lets see, "mommy my dolly had a boo boo, then her head hurt so i had to put another one." (but honey dolly doesnt talk, how do you know her head hurt..lol)..ok thats 2..where are the other 8? So of course my daughter had at least 5 on her own body because her pinky felt itchy so i needed one..I found one on the handle of the bathroom door, when asked why she placed 1 there?..mommy, the handle was slippery so it made less slippery..ohh...how can i be so dumb?? So just like that the pack was gone and if it just ended there it would be no big deal...but it never does. Barbie (or any Spongebob, Hello Kitty and i wont even get into Hannah Montana in this issue) is in every possile child product. I dont ever remember brushing my teeth with a Barbie toothbrush or toothpaste. We just used the great old minty flavour (they only had the 1 flavour back then) with no extra whitening crap.. plain old Colgate. We didnt have Dora wash cloths, lamps or carpets...nope, just plain old cloth for our bodies. My thermos...Mickey Mouse (not bad ey)...well that Micky thermos lasted me my whole elementary years. My mother's logic..why would i buy you a new one when this one still works?? I guess that makes sense now that i'm a mother..lol..but see you know who it doenst make sense to??...our kids. Every September we make sure they have the newest and latest item for Back to School. Napsacks..new. Pencilcase...new. Themos...new. You get my point. God forbid we send our kids back to school with the same character as the year before..what would the teachers think? or worse yet..what would our children think? On Tuesday my daughter will be fully equipped with a Barbie napsack, Barbie pencilcase, barbie thermos, barbie pencil even Barbie snacks! Going back to school for me and my sisters consisted of a trip with my mother to either Byway or Bargain Harolds, a short list on 1 piece of paper, the end result... a checkered pencilcase each, 1 pack of pencilcrayons each, a pack of 250 sheet paper, an eraser and a sharpener...thats it! But we were not different then any of the other kids because their mothers all shopped there too. We always had a brand new back to school outfit for the first day and a brand new pair of shoes. So i ask you this? was it so bad in the days that Barbie the Superhero was not printed on our napsack? Well, me and all 3 of my sisters graduated from elemantry, highschool and college unscaved..and imagine, we did it all without Barbie!

Thats my peace today!

Rice Balls

1 pack of Arborio rice

3 eggs

1/4 c Parmesan cheese

1/4 shredded mozzarella

1/4 c chopped parsley

1 cup bread crumbs

20 1/2 in cubed mozzarella

20 raw peas

Oil for fying

Cook rice as directed by package. In a bowl add cooled rice, eggs, parmesan, parsley and shredded mozzarella. Make balls (size of small orange), roll in bread crumbs. Once all balls are made, stick cubed cheese and a pea through centre and roll ball again to hide hole.

Heat oil in deep pan with about 2 inches of oil so the balls are fully emmersed. Using a spoon turn the ball once to get all sides (about 6-7 min to melt the cheese).

(makes about 20 balls)

When did the mommy connection turn into "French Connection"?

(warning..this blog may offend some mommies..lol)
I remember when I was growing up in a small neighbourhood filled with families, there were kids in the street playing hide and go seek, Spud and sometimes the occasional baseball game. It didn’t matter how old you were, when the weather was warm enough you were out there. Sisters taking care of sisters, and friends taking care of friends. We knew when it was time to go in..yes..when the street lights came on. And I am sure we all cringed at that damn News anchorman(don’t remember which one) with the famous line “its 11:00, do you know where your children are?” My father would always say, Holy Shit (in his Italian accent) look at his own watch, because i guess he didn’t want to take the word of the news guy, and would give us the “look” . Of course we flew up the stairs and went to bed. I think that went on until at least my early 20’s..lol. But my point is we had fun outdoors with all the neighbourhood kids. Our mothers also had this connection..it was the mommy connection. You see, they all took care of eachother. If my mother had to run or walk to the grocery store she knew Mariuca , Lucy, Ada or Vera would be home looking out for us. She knew that she could safely leave us outside because we had 4 other mothers (of course equipped with wooden spoons) looking out their window to make sure we were ok. They were even allowed to yell at us, scold us or give us a little slap if they saw something mom wouldnt approve of. Their husbands were all at work and they were the heads of the household, keeping it together like glue..as a team. There was no such thing as playdates..what the hell is a playdate? A playdate in those times was all of us hanging out in the basement running around, dancing or just playing with rocks..lol.. and our mothers were helping eachother make the tomato sauce, eggplants in the oil or sewing the bedsheet that was slightly torn. Espresso, homemade bread and salami and cheese was all they needed,and of course the local gossip of so and so’s son. They had their slightly dirty aprons on and their Chinese tapinis (Calabrese for slippers) We got the occasional slap for getting out of line but it was always done with love and affection. What happen to those days of mommy connection? They got replaced with French Connection. You know FCUK. There is no more, Diana can i leave my 4 kids with you because i need to run to the store..she would get a look of .. “are you on drugs woman, i have my own kids to take care!” there is no more women helping women...its all women for themselves. There is no getting together in our slippers and dirty aprons because we might run into someone outside and that might make us look poor. Yes we have playdates and mom and tot classes but they only happen (at most) once a week. Even with that, the kids show up in their Diesel Jeans, Geox runners and Lacoste tops. We are no longer free to be free. So i ask you again..what happen to the mommy connection? Check it out..Its at your local mall.
Thats my peace today!

Buschetta
2 large Diced tomatoes
1 clove chopped garlic
1 small thinly sliced red onion
4 tbs oregano
salt
f3 springs resh basil chopped
Olive Oil 1/2 cup
1 italian baguette

In a bowl combine tomatoes, garlic, onions,basil,oregano and salt (enough for taste) and 1/4 cup of the oil
On a cutting board, slice bread (1/2 inch thick). Put aside. In a small bowl add rest of oil, oregano and salt mix. Dip each slice of bread and place on pan. Bake in oven at 400 degrees for about 15 min (until toasted). Remove from oven and scoop tomato mixture on each.

A "Built In" doesn't come with the house anymore!

Ill tell you why we have cleaning ladies and our mothers didn’t...we were the cleaning ladies...Saturday for me did not consist of Yorkdale shopping or the movies..Saturdays for me consisted of..am i doing the toilets this week or dusting? And my mother was the checker...she came around literally with a white glove and checked the dust..i kid you not. What do I do with my kids...I make it part of their “allowance” ya allowance. An allowance works for someone who actually doesn’t get money or things for anything else. Our kids get their “allowance” as well as their new Playstation game or the cool new Ed Hardy’s..and then of course there’s Nonna.”.oh i bought him this because he said he wanted it”...he wanted it??? Thats nice, how about when i wanted that Michael Jackson leather jacket? I had to wait until Christmas to get it and then I didn’t get the leather one.. are you kidding, because Woolco only sold the pleather ones...so you can imagine the sound a pleather jacket makes in the winter. Then there were those 2 kids in school who had the leather one and would just walk around showing off and asking..”oh is that real leather”..lol..does it look like real leather??? No, because they knew damn well that leather don’t crack! Ahh the good ol days of waiting for gifts on birthdays, Christmas and the ever so popular dark stale hard Italian Easter egg. My whole room was full of those shiny Easter eggs because when a cumara (Italian for Godmother) would come over, her and her hairy mole would pull this huge oversized Italian Easter Egg...why didn’t she bring me a Smurf Milk Chocolate one? Ill tell you why..because they only sold those at “real stores” Maria Dry goods on Woodbridge Avenue did not sell Milk Chocolate, she only sold the ones that didn’t sell from the year before and that’s what we got...take it or leave it...and we had no choice but to take a big fat wet kiss from her prickly moley moley moley face. And we knew that if we were rude, a small pinch , bite or slap would immediately follow the visit. We were just so excited to get that crappy prize in the middle that we actually had to WAIT to open until AFTER Easter..just so the chocolate got more stale. Then i was so excited with the big plastic ring that would break about 5 minutes later because i actually put it on to wear. So my whole thing on an allowance...it only works if you play by the rules. My kids have more money in their wallet then i had in all my years of college. The tooth fairy does not give $1 anymore..now its..”mommy can the tooth fairy give me the “green money”.” I try to tell them mommy only got the green money on Christmas or my birthday..and if mommy wanted money well too bad for mommy. So you see us mothers of today have a cleaning lady because a “built in” didn’t come with the house like our parents. We work, we cook, we take care of kids...and yes mother i know you stayed home and raised your kids and i say..good for you and thank you but let me tell you what i always tell you..times are just different now.
That’s my peace today!

Eggplant Parmegiano
1 large eggplant
1/2 cup bread crumbs
3 tbs pamesan cheese
2 eggs
1-2 cups of Cooked Tomato Sauce
salt
Olive oil
Mozzarella cheese 1 cup


Slice eggplant into 2mm thick slices, lay on large pizza pan and sprinkle with salt (this allows the water to come out of the eggplant). Leave for about 10 min
In a bowl beat 2 eggs, take each slice of eggplant and dip into mixture. In a seperate bowl combine the bread crumbs and parmesan cheese. After eggplant is dipped in egg mixture bread in the bread mixture. Lay breaded slices on pan, drizzle with olive oil and bake in oven for about 20 min at 385 degrees (turning once).
Once they are all baked take each slice and combine 3 slices per pile of the same size (you will have a range or large diamater to small diamater) Place the first one down, spread with cooked sauce sprinkle with mozzarella and top with next. Do this until you have as many piles of 3 possile ( depending on the size of eggplant usually you will get about 10 piles)
Cover with foil and bake at 395 degrees for about 40 minutes.

Is Ignorance Bliss or is bliss a sign of Ignorance?

Today i am bringing my 15 month old twins for their vaccinations. Now that doesnt seem strange or out of the ordinary does it? well i am here to tell you that in today's society talking about vaccinations is almost taboo. I am not going to get into my personal feelings about needles because that will just be boring and who cares what i think. What i do want to talk about is how mothers today read too much. No kidding we shit our pants every time we go to get a shot, there is so much research on each vaccine that we just know too much. What happened to the days we were getting vaccinated? My mother would just drag our scary little asses in the room hold us down and voila..done! There were no questions to the doctor like, "how long has this vaccine been around" or "are there any side effects, or even maybe "do they really need this one?". Everything was just assumed that doctors knew everything and there was no need to ask any questions because what did they know, there was no Oprah, Dr. Phil or The Doctors around explaining statistics and side effects..nope there was just ok Mrs. Colosimo next appointment we are giving Diana 6 shots. No questions asked. So my question is this....was i harmed? (well maybe a little damage to my brain cells but that was caused with some fun times in College..lol) I am pretty much normal and immuned. My mother did what the doctor told her she should do. Us mothers today Google every little thing., compare sad stories and watch Oprah religiously (especially when Dr.Oz is on..he's kind of cute in a nerdy way..lol)..but whats worse knowing too much and having the constant nagging worry..or....knowing nothing and living life blissfully?? I say give me some bliss and make me ignorant. Our mothers worried about the important things like, "how can i threaten my daughter not to go out" or "what part of her ass have i not slapped with the spoon" or even maybe "what part of the house can i give her to scrub clean"...you see, that is what was on their minds..not silly worries about vaccines. So today at 2:30pm when i give them their Varivax (for Chicken Pox) and their Menigitis shots i will try to just hold them down, look away and say..Voila..another one done!
That is my peace today.

Ministrone
Onions diced
Zucchini chopped
String Beans cut up
White Beans (1/2 can)
2 carrots chopped
Butternut squash (1/2 cup chopped)
Sweet Potato (1/2 cup chopped)
2 diced tomatoes
Peas (1/4 cup)
Escarole (1/4 cup chopped)
2-3 cups of water
Salt for taste
Olive Oil for sautee

In a heavy saucepan, sautee the onions and gradually add all the vegtables. Sautee for about 3 minutes. Add water. Let boil for about 10 minutes, add salt (enough for taste) and simmer for another 40 minutes or so.

What happened to the side of the road???

So i just came back from a mini trip to Montreal. We only went for 2 days and no matter how many days you leave for, when you have 4 kids you need lots of water, food, snacks and of course patience! So now I am going to compare to when i was young and travelling to the same destination with the same amount of kids/parents in the van. We would travel quite frequently to Montreal to visit my many cousins, aunts and grandparents. My mother always packed fruit, sandwhiches (sangwiches) and a huge thermos of espresso for her and my father. My father was a smoker so every 15 minutes he would slightly open the car window and have an Export A (green pack) cigerette ant tell us to keep our mouth shut when we complained of the smell. Our only form of entertainment was a deck of cards and our Sony Walkmans (that the headphones would slide off because they were made for a 400 pound male.)We would have a pile of cassettes to listen to (not bought from Musicworld) but songs taped from the CFTR countdown. My sisters and I would fight over who got to sit in the middle (the van was customized with captain chairs and a sofa bed in the back) or who would have to lay down the whole way down. I was always the lucky one who had to stay in the back because Ann-Marie had her excuse of car sick and after a few years Nancy used the same excuse. Anyway so we would go on this 5 hour journey at least 3 times a year. Now, keep in mind we were 4 daughters so there was always some point in the trip that 1 of us had to pee. So obviously my father (wanting to always beat the time before's time) would feel like he was being sidetracked and did not always stop at the rest stops...so what did we have to do....well as they say "When in Rome, do as the Romans" so we did like the Deer, skunks and any of the roadside animals..we pulled over on the side of the high speed highway, squated and peed. As most of you can probably figure out, girls cant aim like boys can...so sometimes we had to grin and bear the wet feeling on our pants...why???? because we HAD to...mom and dad didnt care that we were wet...why??? because pee on our pants will not kill us but if we didnt stop complaining they would!!!Once my sister Ann-Marie got car sick but mommy didnt caress or care, she told her throw up in her blanket (that was her favourite from her baby days) closed it up, opened the window and threw it out, yup..that simple, littering was very acceptable because why would anyone want to carry garbage or anything stinky on a long drive?? ahh..the good ol days...so now lets fast forward to today...20 years later, 4 different kids, 2 different parents and a severly different time...our kids...stop on the side of the road...NEVER...first of all, we have to wait to stop the fully equiped MIni van because we might stop it at their favourite part of the movie (and we might get in shit) so we warn them 30 minutes before that we will be stopping..once we do stop...its not one man for himself, its mommy help me get out my seatbelt and car seat...then its, I want fries, I want nuggets (after explaining that mommy packed a healthy lunch) and them obviously not caring or flinching. So once all the kids are out free, they see the vending machines filled with chocolates, chips and those stuffed animals that they just HAVE to have..so its a battle getting them away from that..then getting all the looks from strangers that we as parents must be on some heavy drugs for even having more than 2 kids in this society and crazy world..once all have peed, car seats back on, drinking water from their Evian bottle and not from a fountain, we travel, put back on 1 of their 100 DVD's and make sure their DS and PSP's are fully charged because why in the world would they want to play with a deck of cards or colour with Crayola's in a book and why would we as parents EVER dare think that they would squat their pretty little asses on the side of the road like we did in the olden days...lol.
That's my peace today!
This is a simple recipe today because i am still getting over the car ride..lol

Fresh Tomato Sauce
6-7 Fresh Garden ripe tomatoes
1 clove of garlic finely chopped
2 large basil sprigs chopped
olive oil
salt
oregano
pasta
Parmeson cheese for garnish

Peel ripen tomatoes, put in bowl and using a potato masher mash the tomatoes until they are not clumpy, finely chop garlic and saute in olive oil, add tomatoes, finely chopped basil, salt and oregano. Saute for 20 minutes. Add cooked pasta and toss and serve with fresh basil and parmeson cheese.