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.