Thursday, March 25, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
33,945 days
Yesterday my paternal grandmother celebrated her 93rd birthday. She was luckily surrounded by family in Montreal, the city she immigrated to many, many years ago. She was born in Southern Italy in a small town called San Mango D ‘Aquino. She had all 4 children in this small town, in between the time her husband was away at war. Once my grandfather made the decision to move his family to the new land, they all followed.
My grandmother raised her kids in a time when homemade meals were a given, and dresses were sewn from local women. Necessity was food, milk, and the basics. Almost all the meals were made from scratch, while her husband was out at work. She experienced life without Interact, Laptops and Blackberries. She never drove a car, and she never shopped on credit. She made the best of her life, and she made the best of the things she did not have.
My grandmother has 14 grandchildren and 18 great grandchildren. She was married 70 years to the same man, when he sadly left the world almost 3 years ago. She still wakes up every morning, makes herself a coffee, turns on the radio and begins her day. Throughout the day, she makes calls..many, many calls..lol...to her family members and some friends. She hosts people when they come by to visit and she is very quick to make them a coffee, take out some cookies, and on many occasions..make a plate of fried potatoes (drenched in oil...mmmm...just the way we like it..lol) She still makes stuffed eggplants and green tomatoes in the oil.
I did not grow up in the same city as my father’s parents, but I often visited them, especially at Easter. Many years ago, when I was fresh out of College, I moved to Montreal to work at a radio station. Since I was raised in an Italian home, living on my own was unheard of, so I had to live with them, or I stayed home...that was the condition to moving away from home. So at 21, I moved in with my grandparents. I can tell you, besides getting together with my husband, it was 1 of the best summers I ever had. I was able to connect with 2 people that I very rarely spent time with. Every night my grandparents would wait for their “little” girl; with food that was prepared all day long. They were very proud to have the responsibity of “watching” me while I was in Montreal. My grandmother was so serious about her role that she felt it necessary to give me an 11 o’clock curfew..lol..I explained to her that at home, I came home much later than that. She did not care about that, I was living with her and I had to be home at that time..lol..I used to call my own father to tell his mother to loosen up..lol..she still did not budge. So I spent my nights that summer, arriving at 11pm, and then sticking my head out the window smoking my brains out..lol...ahhh the memories.
I am so glad that I was able to spend my 21st summer year with my grandparents. I learned many things that summer. I learned that a grandmother can worry more than a parent does. I learned that the street lights do go out at 11pm,..lol..and I learned that a 79 year old can still make house rules. They taught me that attitude is everything. My grandmother was in her late 70’s and she was still preparing meals every night for me when I got home. They were always happy to see me, always happy to have me, and always happy to share stories of life with me.
The one thing I can tell you is, if you have your grandparents spend time with them. Find out about their life, the challenges they faced and the trials and tribulations they endured. They also have some juicy tales about some of the women in their town.lol..which is kind of interesting because now they are pretty wrinkly and you cannot imagine them being the town Goddess..lol.. I would just sit there and be amazed at all the things they knew. They didn’t know how to Google, and they didn’t know how to text. But they knew how to help a woman in need, a woman who didn’t have enough breast milk to feed her newborn..they would breastfeed that child. They grew up in a time where it was not 1 man for himself; it was, for all mankind. They should feel proud for all they learned in life, that no book could have ever taught them.
Today I wish my father’s mother a Happy 93rd birthday. In life we can only wish of meeting and holding our grandchildren’s children. In life we can only hope that we can be responsible for not only the lives of our children, but for the many more that follow. In life we can only strive to be happy and healthy every God given day. In life we can only hope that we can be surrounded by the people we raised and the people that they raised. In life, we can only dream of living a life almost as long as a century; 33,945 days to be exact.
That’s my peace today!
This recipe is my grandmother's Easter treat she makes for all her kids and grandkids.
Easter Bread Braid
6 eggs
1 pack yeast
1/4 cup olive oil
6 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 cups warm water (maybe more)
flour for dough
Put the yeast in the warm water. Let sit for 10 minutes or until bubbles. In a bowl mix flour, salt, sugar and blend. Make a hole in the middle and add the yeast with water. Mix and gradually add oil. You may need to add more water, the consistency should be like a pizza dough. On a floured surface, roll out dough. Cut a thick strip, make a 4 inch circle at the top of the strip, place egg and nest the egg. At the bottom of the nest, slice into 3 strips and braid it. With the rest of the dough cut into strip and make more braids, attach to the done braid and make 5 more egg nests surrounding. The end result should be a circle of 6 egg nests with braids holding it together...sound simple enough??lol...Buona Pasqua!
My grandmother raised her kids in a time when homemade meals were a given, and dresses were sewn from local women. Necessity was food, milk, and the basics. Almost all the meals were made from scratch, while her husband was out at work. She experienced life without Interact, Laptops and Blackberries. She never drove a car, and she never shopped on credit. She made the best of her life, and she made the best of the things she did not have.
My grandmother has 14 grandchildren and 18 great grandchildren. She was married 70 years to the same man, when he sadly left the world almost 3 years ago. She still wakes up every morning, makes herself a coffee, turns on the radio and begins her day. Throughout the day, she makes calls..many, many calls..lol...to her family members and some friends. She hosts people when they come by to visit and she is very quick to make them a coffee, take out some cookies, and on many occasions..make a plate of fried potatoes (drenched in oil...mmmm...just the way we like it..lol) She still makes stuffed eggplants and green tomatoes in the oil.
I did not grow up in the same city as my father’s parents, but I often visited them, especially at Easter. Many years ago, when I was fresh out of College, I moved to Montreal to work at a radio station. Since I was raised in an Italian home, living on my own was unheard of, so I had to live with them, or I stayed home...that was the condition to moving away from home. So at 21, I moved in with my grandparents. I can tell you, besides getting together with my husband, it was 1 of the best summers I ever had. I was able to connect with 2 people that I very rarely spent time with. Every night my grandparents would wait for their “little” girl; with food that was prepared all day long. They were very proud to have the responsibity of “watching” me while I was in Montreal. My grandmother was so serious about her role that she felt it necessary to give me an 11 o’clock curfew..lol..I explained to her that at home, I came home much later than that. She did not care about that, I was living with her and I had to be home at that time..lol..I used to call my own father to tell his mother to loosen up..lol..she still did not budge. So I spent my nights that summer, arriving at 11pm, and then sticking my head out the window smoking my brains out..lol...ahhh the memories.
I am so glad that I was able to spend my 21st summer year with my grandparents. I learned many things that summer. I learned that a grandmother can worry more than a parent does. I learned that the street lights do go out at 11pm,..lol..and I learned that a 79 year old can still make house rules. They taught me that attitude is everything. My grandmother was in her late 70’s and she was still preparing meals every night for me when I got home. They were always happy to see me, always happy to have me, and always happy to share stories of life with me.
The one thing I can tell you is, if you have your grandparents spend time with them. Find out about their life, the challenges they faced and the trials and tribulations they endured. They also have some juicy tales about some of the women in their town.lol..which is kind of interesting because now they are pretty wrinkly and you cannot imagine them being the town Goddess..lol.. I would just sit there and be amazed at all the things they knew. They didn’t know how to Google, and they didn’t know how to text. But they knew how to help a woman in need, a woman who didn’t have enough breast milk to feed her newborn..they would breastfeed that child. They grew up in a time where it was not 1 man for himself; it was, for all mankind. They should feel proud for all they learned in life, that no book could have ever taught them.
Today I wish my father’s mother a Happy 93rd birthday. In life we can only wish of meeting and holding our grandchildren’s children. In life we can only hope that we can be responsible for not only the lives of our children, but for the many more that follow. In life we can only strive to be happy and healthy every God given day. In life we can only hope that we can be surrounded by the people we raised and the people that they raised. In life, we can only dream of living a life almost as long as a century; 33,945 days to be exact.
That’s my peace today!
This recipe is my grandmother's Easter treat she makes for all her kids and grandkids.
Easter Bread Braid
6 eggs
1 pack yeast
1/4 cup olive oil
6 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 cups warm water (maybe more)
flour for dough
Put the yeast in the warm water. Let sit for 10 minutes or until bubbles. In a bowl mix flour, salt, sugar and blend. Make a hole in the middle and add the yeast with water. Mix and gradually add oil. You may need to add more water, the consistency should be like a pizza dough. On a floured surface, roll out dough. Cut a thick strip, make a 4 inch circle at the top of the strip, place egg and nest the egg. At the bottom of the nest, slice into 3 strips and braid it. With the rest of the dough cut into strip and make more braids, attach to the done braid and make 5 more egg nests surrounding. The end result should be a circle of 6 egg nests with braids holding it together...sound simple enough??lol...Buona Pasqua!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Pot of Gold
6 years ago today my first daughter was born. It was a cold snowy day in Montreal when I went in to get induced to welcome my second child into the world. My husband and I did not know what we were having, but because I had a son, I assumed my second would be another boy.
The day was long, induction, patocin, epidural..you name it, I was poked with needles. My mother had driven down to be with me for the arrival of my second child. She was waiting all day with me and my husband when she realized that it was time for my son to go to bed. She left and was to hurry back. The nurse told her she had plenty of time because I was still only 4 centimetres dilated. Just a few short 30 minutes later, I had my legs in the stir-ups and the process began. Thankfully, I did not have to push for very long, 10 minutes later and I was about to give my last push. Here I was, ready to welcome in what I thought was going to be, my second son. I was wrong. At 8:42pm (let’s see if any man remembers the time our kids were born..lol), the doctor placed a very squirmy baby on my stomach. When I looked down, I was shocked! "It's a girl"! I cried, my husband cried, and even 1 of the nurses cried..lol (she told me she was so happy for us) and there in that moment, my life changed forever.
I didn’t know how much I wanted a daughter, until she was born. I was raised in a home with all girls so when my son was born, it was a wonderful change. I was used to be a mom to a boy, so I couldn’t imagine being able to experience life with a daughter. Moments later, my mother walked in to see me holding my daughter. She was shocked that she missed the birth; she was shocked that I had a girl. The phone calls began to the family, and in a few minutes everyone knew my little girl was born.
Since then, I have enjoyed all the wonderful things that a daughter brings into your life. PINK...is all I have to say. That is all I bought for the first few months. It is so much fun to buy pink after you have a boy. The dresses, the hair ties, and of course like any good Italian girl...the earrings..lol.
I have to admit, girls are a little more demanding emotionally, than boys are. They need more love, assurance and affection. There is always a little more drama, more tears and a little more laundry, when you have girls. They have a few more catty “issues” at school, and a little more wardrobe malfunctions. They need more shoes, more skirts, and more pretty socks. They need more time in the morning because of their hair and outfits. They love to shop for themselves, and they love to shop for us. They think they have the best advice and they think they got the whole “love” thing down packed. My daughter is convinced she is going to marry Anthony in her class..he just doesn’t know it yet..lol.
My daughter brings me joy, she brings me love and she brings me wonderful fashion tips. She is my little girl that is growing up. She is getting smarter by the day. Maria-Alicia is my oldest daughter. She is 6 years old today and I can’t believe how big she is getting. I want to enjoy these days of her younger years and I want her to as well. Last night before she went to bed I whispered to her, “tonight is the last night you will ever be 5..forever and ever.” She smiled because she was so excited. I paused because I can’t believe that all the days have passed from that snowy day in Montreal when the doctor placed her on my stomach and we all screamed... “It’s a girl!” On March 17th, 2004, I received my very own pot of gold!
That’s my peace today!
Rapini and Sausage Roll
2 bunches rapini boiled and drained and salted
2 Italian sausages (skin removed)
2 cups shredded mozzarella
1 pizza dough
1/4 cup olive oil
Roll out dough on counter as thin as you can get it, brush with oil. Meanwhile in a pan add remaining oil add rapini and crushed garlic and cook for about 7 min, place in bowl. Add sausage and cook for about 15 min (until fully cooked), add to rapini. Spread both sausage, rapini and mozzarella on flat dough (leaving 1/2 on each side of the dough). Start rolling from 1 end as tight as you can until you have a log. Place in preheated oven 425 for about 15-20 minutes. (until bread is lightly browned.
The day was long, induction, patocin, epidural..you name it, I was poked with needles. My mother had driven down to be with me for the arrival of my second child. She was waiting all day with me and my husband when she realized that it was time for my son to go to bed. She left and was to hurry back. The nurse told her she had plenty of time because I was still only 4 centimetres dilated. Just a few short 30 minutes later, I had my legs in the stir-ups and the process began. Thankfully, I did not have to push for very long, 10 minutes later and I was about to give my last push. Here I was, ready to welcome in what I thought was going to be, my second son. I was wrong. At 8:42pm (let’s see if any man remembers the time our kids were born..lol), the doctor placed a very squirmy baby on my stomach. When I looked down, I was shocked! "It's a girl"! I cried, my husband cried, and even 1 of the nurses cried..lol (she told me she was so happy for us) and there in that moment, my life changed forever.
I didn’t know how much I wanted a daughter, until she was born. I was raised in a home with all girls so when my son was born, it was a wonderful change. I was used to be a mom to a boy, so I couldn’t imagine being able to experience life with a daughter. Moments later, my mother walked in to see me holding my daughter. She was shocked that she missed the birth; she was shocked that I had a girl. The phone calls began to the family, and in a few minutes everyone knew my little girl was born.
Since then, I have enjoyed all the wonderful things that a daughter brings into your life. PINK...is all I have to say. That is all I bought for the first few months. It is so much fun to buy pink after you have a boy. The dresses, the hair ties, and of course like any good Italian girl...the earrings..lol.
I have to admit, girls are a little more demanding emotionally, than boys are. They need more love, assurance and affection. There is always a little more drama, more tears and a little more laundry, when you have girls. They have a few more catty “issues” at school, and a little more wardrobe malfunctions. They need more shoes, more skirts, and more pretty socks. They need more time in the morning because of their hair and outfits. They love to shop for themselves, and they love to shop for us. They think they have the best advice and they think they got the whole “love” thing down packed. My daughter is convinced she is going to marry Anthony in her class..he just doesn’t know it yet..lol.
My daughter brings me joy, she brings me love and she brings me wonderful fashion tips. She is my little girl that is growing up. She is getting smarter by the day. Maria-Alicia is my oldest daughter. She is 6 years old today and I can’t believe how big she is getting. I want to enjoy these days of her younger years and I want her to as well. Last night before she went to bed I whispered to her, “tonight is the last night you will ever be 5..forever and ever.” She smiled because she was so excited. I paused because I can’t believe that all the days have passed from that snowy day in Montreal when the doctor placed her on my stomach and we all screamed... “It’s a girl!” On March 17th, 2004, I received my very own pot of gold!
That’s my peace today!
Rapini and Sausage Roll
2 bunches rapini boiled and drained and salted
2 Italian sausages (skin removed)
2 cups shredded mozzarella
1 pizza dough
1/4 cup olive oil
Roll out dough on counter as thin as you can get it, brush with oil. Meanwhile in a pan add remaining oil add rapini and crushed garlic and cook for about 7 min, place in bowl. Add sausage and cook for about 15 min (until fully cooked), add to rapini. Spread both sausage, rapini and mozzarella on flat dough (leaving 1/2 on each side of the dough). Start rolling from 1 end as tight as you can until you have a log. Place in preheated oven 425 for about 15-20 minutes. (until bread is lightly browned.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
It hurts me a lot more than it hurts you
So this is the last time I will write about Joseph and his hockey..lol...I promise. This past weekend we had the semi-finals (we won) and then on Sunday we had the finals. You can tell in the dressing room before the game began, all the kids were very nervous. They made it to the finals and they wanted to win the cup; the championship. When you work really hard at something, the biggest reward is recognition. So anyway, the coach prepped them up with a little chat, and away they went to play the last game of the season.
It was supposed to be an easy game for us. We had played this team in the playoffs and we beat them pretty badly. Our goalie was a lot better than theirs..lol.(wink wink). So the game began and what a game it was. It was one of the most nail biting, stressful games thus far. In the end, they beat us 2-1. 1 goal away from winning first place.
After the game was over, the kids with their heads down, poured into the dressing room, and if I think about their little faces I can just cry. They were all crying, some hysterically, some quietly. There was no room for positive talk, or words of “You guys did great!” They did not want to hear it. I will admit they did not play a strong game; the other team was all over us. We seem to forget that kids are just kids. They were nervous and could not handle the pressure. Our team would normally score at least 3-4 goals a game, but not this game. The only shot they took on the goalie was the only goal we got.
As parents, we never like to see our kids cry, or be sad. As much as we can tell them that they did well, or that we are proud of them, we cannot take the hurt away. All the parents that day were trying their best to take away the tears. The boys were sad and they wanted to be sad. They didn’t look at it that they won second overall (which is awesome), they looked at it that they lost. There was no celebrating “silver”, they wanted “gold”.
The good thing about being a kid is that they are resilient. After an hour of Joseph sulking and feeling sad, and a few tears..ok a lot of tears..lol..and him saying he did not want to be goalie anymore...he was laughing outside. He was still upset and was not thrilled they lost, but he decided he will continue to play in net. I know that is not something I want, but he wants it so I have to support that. We reassured him that he played an awesome game, and that if it was not for him we would have lost 20-1. We had to let him know that he did the best he could, but he was not the whole team. After a few hours we received an email from his coach addressed to him. They were words of encouragement and he explained to Joseph that if it was not for him, they would not have even made it to the finals. That made Joseph feel proud again, and confident again.
Parents are always there to wipe away the tears from their kid’s faces. They are always there to offer words of love and encouragement, and they are always there to see the bright side of things. Even though we hurt more than they do. Even though we feel like crying a lot harder for them, and even though we want more for them than they do. We must be strong, we must be teachers, and we must be leaders. We must show them that life is what you make it, life is how you see it, and life is full of the next best opportunity. So when Joseph said to me, “Mommy why aren’t you upset that we lost?” I wanted to scream out and cry with him, and hold his tiny little body and comfort him, but that’s not my job. My job is to stay strong, show him that it should be just for fun and to not take it to heart. I really wanted to respond to my little baby, “Oh Joseph, I feel so horrible you guys lost.” I wanted to tell him that it hurt me a lot more, than it hurt him, but I couldn’t.... because that’s not my job to do.
That’s my peace today!
Steak Sandwich
3-4 strip loin steaks cut into thin strips
2 red peppers cut into strips
1 whole onion cut thinly
2 cups sliced mushrooms
6-8 slices provolone cheese
olive oil for frying
6 italian buns
shredded lettuce and chopped tomatoes (optional)
Add 5 tbsp oil to pan and add steak, salt and pepper. Fry for about 5-7 minutes remove from pan. Add all veggies, add 2 tbsp oil to pan, fry for 7-8 minutes. Slice open buns stuff with steak and veggies, add sliced cheese. Put on a baking pan and broil in oven for 6 minutes at 400 degrees. Add lettuce and tomato(optional)
It was supposed to be an easy game for us. We had played this team in the playoffs and we beat them pretty badly. Our goalie was a lot better than theirs..lol.(wink wink). So the game began and what a game it was. It was one of the most nail biting, stressful games thus far. In the end, they beat us 2-1. 1 goal away from winning first place.
After the game was over, the kids with their heads down, poured into the dressing room, and if I think about their little faces I can just cry. They were all crying, some hysterically, some quietly. There was no room for positive talk, or words of “You guys did great!” They did not want to hear it. I will admit they did not play a strong game; the other team was all over us. We seem to forget that kids are just kids. They were nervous and could not handle the pressure. Our team would normally score at least 3-4 goals a game, but not this game. The only shot they took on the goalie was the only goal we got.
As parents, we never like to see our kids cry, or be sad. As much as we can tell them that they did well, or that we are proud of them, we cannot take the hurt away. All the parents that day were trying their best to take away the tears. The boys were sad and they wanted to be sad. They didn’t look at it that they won second overall (which is awesome), they looked at it that they lost. There was no celebrating “silver”, they wanted “gold”.
The good thing about being a kid is that they are resilient. After an hour of Joseph sulking and feeling sad, and a few tears..ok a lot of tears..lol..and him saying he did not want to be goalie anymore...he was laughing outside. He was still upset and was not thrilled they lost, but he decided he will continue to play in net. I know that is not something I want, but he wants it so I have to support that. We reassured him that he played an awesome game, and that if it was not for him we would have lost 20-1. We had to let him know that he did the best he could, but he was not the whole team. After a few hours we received an email from his coach addressed to him. They were words of encouragement and he explained to Joseph that if it was not for him, they would not have even made it to the finals. That made Joseph feel proud again, and confident again.
Parents are always there to wipe away the tears from their kid’s faces. They are always there to offer words of love and encouragement, and they are always there to see the bright side of things. Even though we hurt more than they do. Even though we feel like crying a lot harder for them, and even though we want more for them than they do. We must be strong, we must be teachers, and we must be leaders. We must show them that life is what you make it, life is how you see it, and life is full of the next best opportunity. So when Joseph said to me, “Mommy why aren’t you upset that we lost?” I wanted to scream out and cry with him, and hold his tiny little body and comfort him, but that’s not my job. My job is to stay strong, show him that it should be just for fun and to not take it to heart. I really wanted to respond to my little baby, “Oh Joseph, I feel so horrible you guys lost.” I wanted to tell him that it hurt me a lot more, than it hurt him, but I couldn’t.... because that’s not my job to do.
That’s my peace today!
Steak Sandwich
3-4 strip loin steaks cut into thin strips
2 red peppers cut into strips
1 whole onion cut thinly
2 cups sliced mushrooms
6-8 slices provolone cheese
olive oil for frying
6 italian buns
shredded lettuce and chopped tomatoes (optional)
Add 5 tbsp oil to pan and add steak, salt and pepper. Fry for about 5-7 minutes remove from pan. Add all veggies, add 2 tbsp oil to pan, fry for 7-8 minutes. Slice open buns stuff with steak and veggies, add sliced cheese. Put on a baking pan and broil in oven for 6 minutes at 400 degrees. Add lettuce and tomato(optional)
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Me worried??...Naaaa
The word worry and mommy go hand in hand. From the day we become mothers, worry becomes an overwhelming, undesired feeling of everyday lives, from that day forward. From the newborn stage all the way up to...well..forever. Apparently we never stop worrying about our kids and that kind of sucks. When the heck am I ever going to lift my feet and not think about anyone but myself again...mmm let see...never!
I have many, many mommy friends. I keep in close contact with them through phone calls, emails and of course, facebook. I can almost guarantee that I will have a conversation with one of my close friends that will involve one of my kids or 1 of her kids. That is what we moms do, we talk and compare stories. We ask if we heard of a certain medication, and we ask if it’s normal to have mustard colour poo..lol. We describe vomit in full detail and we know the exact tone of pink in amoxicillin.
Worries range when you are a parent. They can be anything from a weird sounding cough, or a not so good test mark at school. We worry on their first day of kindergarten, we worry on their first trip to the dentist, and we worry when our kids put hockey equipment on for the first time. When we worry, we know we are doing it, we try our best to not, but it’s like fighting a lost battle, we lose every time.
I get tired of the constant nagging feeling of concern. The more we try not to think about something, the more we think about it. I just recently handed out birthday invitations for my daughter’s party. I am so worried that the little girls in her class are not going to come to the party..lol. I will hold my breath until all the calls come in that the girls will be coming. I am already anticipating the feeling of anguish if her friends don’t show up. This weekend Joseph’s hockey team is playing in the semi-finals and finals of their playoff hockey season; and again worry.
My mother tells me all the time, she still worries about us. It’s not even reassuring that we can relax when we get in our golden years. I don’t want to worry when I am old, it is bad enough we have to go through it now, why doesn’t it ever go away? Men don’t worry as much as us because they know we do enough of it for both of us.
Ironically enough, I am sitting here watching “Modern Family” and they are talking about the worries of a parent. It is not uncommon or unusual. It is part of the natural love of a child. It is the natural feeling of parenthood. We cannot sit here and begin to explain it. We cannot sit here and begin to write about it. We cannot sit here and forget about it. It is a part of who we are when we become parents. It is a part of the overwhelming emotions for our children. Worry is what we do and sometimes it is what we do best. It’s like when we tell our kids we don’t want them to go to the park alone, because they are not yet old enough. Our kids think we suck but we have our reasons why it is important to us. They will get it one day. They will understand what it feels like to love someone more than you love yourself. They will appreciate that we have done everything we ever did...for them.
Every morning when I wake up, I do my very best as a parent to think positive and stay on the worry free road. Usually by 9am that attitude changes slightly..lol. The worries kick in, the thoughts stream in my mind and the constant nagging concerns for my kids fill up my brain. My husband reminds me that it is all ok and to let life takes its course and to enjoy every minute of our children. He reminds me that worry is nothing but a waste of time. He tells me that he doesn't even think of the things that I worry about..lol. I try to take his advice, and I try to not think about the things that have not even happened yet..lol.
So this weekend when my son takes the ice on his finals of the playoffs, I will bring my smiles, my cheers, and maybe my rosary..lol..and when another mom asks me if I am a little worried about the game, I will be sure to answer...”Me worried???....Naaaa”..lol.
That’s my peace today!
My Nonna's Stracatella Soup
1 whole chicken leg (back attached)
2 peeled carrots
2 celery sticks
1 large potato
1 chopped escarole
1 white peeled onion
salt
1 egg beaten
2 tbsp grated parmesan
In a large pot, boil chicken. Once it comes to a boil, drain water and add fresh water. Add all the veggies (except the escarole), bring to a boil and salt the water. Boil for over an hour, add the escarole and boil for another 20 minutes. Remove all the veggies and chicken, place on a cutting board and chop until it is in tiny pieces (make sure there is no chicken bones). Add all back to broth and bring to another boil, add the beaten egg with cheese and continue to boil for another 5 minutes.
I have many, many mommy friends. I keep in close contact with them through phone calls, emails and of course, facebook. I can almost guarantee that I will have a conversation with one of my close friends that will involve one of my kids or 1 of her kids. That is what we moms do, we talk and compare stories. We ask if we heard of a certain medication, and we ask if it’s normal to have mustard colour poo..lol. We describe vomit in full detail and we know the exact tone of pink in amoxicillin.
Worries range when you are a parent. They can be anything from a weird sounding cough, or a not so good test mark at school. We worry on their first day of kindergarten, we worry on their first trip to the dentist, and we worry when our kids put hockey equipment on for the first time. When we worry, we know we are doing it, we try our best to not, but it’s like fighting a lost battle, we lose every time.
I get tired of the constant nagging feeling of concern. The more we try not to think about something, the more we think about it. I just recently handed out birthday invitations for my daughter’s party. I am so worried that the little girls in her class are not going to come to the party..lol. I will hold my breath until all the calls come in that the girls will be coming. I am already anticipating the feeling of anguish if her friends don’t show up. This weekend Joseph’s hockey team is playing in the semi-finals and finals of their playoff hockey season; and again worry.
My mother tells me all the time, she still worries about us. It’s not even reassuring that we can relax when we get in our golden years. I don’t want to worry when I am old, it is bad enough we have to go through it now, why doesn’t it ever go away? Men don’t worry as much as us because they know we do enough of it for both of us.
Ironically enough, I am sitting here watching “Modern Family” and they are talking about the worries of a parent. It is not uncommon or unusual. It is part of the natural love of a child. It is the natural feeling of parenthood. We cannot sit here and begin to explain it. We cannot sit here and begin to write about it. We cannot sit here and forget about it. It is a part of who we are when we become parents. It is a part of the overwhelming emotions for our children. Worry is what we do and sometimes it is what we do best. It’s like when we tell our kids we don’t want them to go to the park alone, because they are not yet old enough. Our kids think we suck but we have our reasons why it is important to us. They will get it one day. They will understand what it feels like to love someone more than you love yourself. They will appreciate that we have done everything we ever did...for them.
Every morning when I wake up, I do my very best as a parent to think positive and stay on the worry free road. Usually by 9am that attitude changes slightly..lol. The worries kick in, the thoughts stream in my mind and the constant nagging concerns for my kids fill up my brain. My husband reminds me that it is all ok and to let life takes its course and to enjoy every minute of our children. He reminds me that worry is nothing but a waste of time. He tells me that he doesn't even think of the things that I worry about..lol. I try to take his advice, and I try to not think about the things that have not even happened yet..lol.
So this weekend when my son takes the ice on his finals of the playoffs, I will bring my smiles, my cheers, and maybe my rosary..lol..and when another mom asks me if I am a little worried about the game, I will be sure to answer...”Me worried???....Naaaa”..lol.
That’s my peace today!
My Nonna's Stracatella Soup
1 whole chicken leg (back attached)
2 peeled carrots
2 celery sticks
1 large potato
1 chopped escarole
1 white peeled onion
salt
1 egg beaten
2 tbsp grated parmesan
In a large pot, boil chicken. Once it comes to a boil, drain water and add fresh water. Add all the veggies (except the escarole), bring to a boil and salt the water. Boil for over an hour, add the escarole and boil for another 20 minutes. Remove all the veggies and chicken, place on a cutting board and chop until it is in tiny pieces (make sure there is no chicken bones). Add all back to broth and bring to another boil, add the beaten egg with cheese and continue to boil for another 5 minutes.
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