Last Friday my first born turned 9 years old. It didn’t really faze me all that much because he is still in the 1 digit number part of his life. He woke up in the morning feeling very excited to be celebrating his birthday. It was a school day, so that meant all his friends would be able to wish him a Happy Birthday that day. I brought him to school and I went off to begin my day.
Later that day, it hit me. I had not asked my son what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday? OMG, what was I going to get him? Every past birthday he would have a theme. When he was 4 it was Spiderman, when he was 6 it was a soccer field, and last year Joseph had a hockey rink for his cake. I was a little bit in panic mode because if I waited until he got home at 4 o’clock then there would be no time to get a cake theme. I did not know what to do. I had no choice but to wait.
When he came home from school I hesitantly told him that we did not get a “special” cake. He looked at me and said...”ummm...an ice cream cake from DQ is fine mom.” “What?” I thought. “An ice cream cake from DQ?” Then I went on to explain to him that there would be no special theme on the cake, just a plain old “Happy Birthday Joseph.” He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Ya that’s ok.” Ok, so at that moment the whole 9 years of his life just flashed before my very eyes.
I started thinking back on the night when he was born and when all the family was waiting impatiently in the waiting room for Franco to come out and let them know...”It’s a boy.” I began to remember the days when he began to crawl, and then walk. I remembered the first time we took him to Florida and he flew on a plane for the very first time. I remembered the first time he rode a bike without his training wheels, and how proud we were of him. I began to think of the day I walked him into his Kindergarten class with his brand new Spiderman knapsack and his Batman cap. I remember receiving his very first report card, and the first time he made something special for me on Mother’s Day. It all went by so quickly. All the years of helping him get dressed, buying him fun squishy bath toys, and helping him get through the first Level 1 reading book. My baby boy was growing up.
Joseph was my very first experience at “unconditional love”. He is the first human being that made me want so much more in life so that I can give it to him. He is my best friend, and although our relationship is changing, he will always be my first born baby. He gave me the most important job in the world.
Joseph no longer cared to have a cake with colour and prints. He didn’t even care that he got money in an envelope from most of his aunties. No more gift bags with Transformers on it. No more gift cards from Toys’ R Us. He has somehow passed all that. He has somehow moved on to a different stage in his life. Yesterday I walked in on him shaving..lol. He literally had his dad’s shaving cream on his face and he was using a razor on his boyish face. When I asked him what the heck he was doing, he simply answered, “I’m shaving mommy.” Lol.
My husband does not understand my emotions as a mother. He just thinks I am crazy half the time. He tells me to leave him be, and to just let him grow up. And I know that to some people it’s not such a big deal that he didn’t ask for a soccer cake or a hockey cake on his 9th birthday. But to me, asking for a plain old ice cream cake from the Dairy Queen means a lot more than just a birthday cake for a 9 year old boy.
That’s my peace today!
Chicken thighs with sauce and potatoes
1 pack chicken thighs
2 cups sauce
4 cloves garlic (whole)
6 peeled and cut in chunks potatoes
fresh basil
salt and pepper
1/2 cup beer
5 tbsp olive oil
In a large skillet, place garlic and oil and heat. Add chicken, brown on both side. Add the potatoes. Add the beer and continue to cook for 5 minutes. Add the sauce, salt and pepper. Cook for about 20 minutes. Add fresh basil.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Our pride possessions come with us
We did it! Yesterday allllllll day....we moved. We are officially out of our old house and all our belongings are now in our new house, although they are in boxes..they are there. It was not as bad as I thought it would be. We woke up quite early to prepare for the moving company to come along and help us physically move all our stuff out of the home we no longer own.
I had been packing pretty much all week getting ready. I left the last minute things for the end because there are a lot of things we use in a day that we do not realize we need, until we need it. Packing sucks. Every little piece of whatever you have in your house must be examined to throw in the garbage, recycle, donate, or put in a box. This is a task that only you can do.
As I was packing, I came across a lot of things that brought a smile to my face. Objects or clothing that belonged to my kids when they were babies. Stuff they made me at school, including cards for my birthday and Mother’s Day. I even came across special cards that my husband gave me. Our ten year wedding anniversary; a card he gave me after the birth of our twins. During all the hectic time of packing, it is these moments that help you through the frustrating chaos. The sweet memories. I also came across a tiny size 4 suit my son Joseph wore on my sister’s wedding. On that day he seemed so big and grown up to me, and yesterday the suit looked so small. I also had to remove his growth chart that we placed on his wall from when we first moved in. He has grown so much since that day. He turned 9 years old today.
The house we left was the first home we moved into when we moved back from Montreal. It was a home we fell in love with, almost 5years before. It is the house we brought our twins home in, and it is the house that both my older 2 kids left from, to begin their first day of Kindergarten.
When you are in the moment of packing, and then cleaning (gotta make sure you leave a sparkly clean home for the next people) there is no time to think. There is no time to think that it will be the last time you will be washing a dish in that sink, or it is the last time you will be passing the mop on the kitchen floor, or that it will be the last time you will be cleaning the toilet seat in that bathroom. It is only after you did it, that you realize it was the last time.
After all the movers were out and after all the boxes were cleared, all that remained was an empty house. An echo was in place of the noise of the TV, and the garage that was once filled with bikes and scooters...was vacant. I was the last 1 out, so I had to lock up. I put the key in the lock for the last time that day. I turned it, and then I turned around. I waved bye to my neighbours, and welcomed the new home owners and gave them the keys. I wished them as much love and happiness as we had in that home, and then I got in my car and drove away.
Later that day, my sister asked me how I felt and if I had cried when I left. I told her I did not shed a tear. She said to me, “You’re not normal”...lol..As she may be somewhat right about that..lol...I did not feel that I should have felt the need to cry. I was not sad about the house, I was happy. That house held some very happy events. That house held some really funny events. That house held some really weird events. The one thing that house did not hold was MY memories. Those memories were taken with me as I turned the key in the lock. Those memories are instilled in my mind forever. The house was just the walls and floor that held the stage for me and my family.
I took my family with me. We will move into our new house and we will continue to make wonderful memories. A house is just a house. It is the people inside the house that make it a home. My home is where my husband and children are. This past week when I was packing all my stuff from around the house, I labelled my boxes. Kitchen; bathroom; master bedroom; FRAGILE. All my objects are packed up and ready to be placed in our new place. When I left my old house yesterday, I realized that none of those boxes had what I needed to make my new home mine. When we leave a house and move into a new one, it is not the home we will miss, it is the days we shared making the memories. That is something we hold in our hearts and in our minds. No place, house or home can take that away from us.
On April 22, 2010 I left my old address to move into a new one. A new home that will be perfect for the next stage in my family’s life. When we leave a house, we need not to worry if we forgot something or if we left something behind. When we leave our house, we take our most pride possessions with us that no box can carry.
That’s my peace today!
I just came across this fish that is from Canada and tastes like Seabass with a lot less mercury! Absolutely delicious!
Barramundi with olives and cherry tomatoes
6 fillets of barramundi skined and bonned
1 pack cherry tomatoes, chopped
3 crushed cloves garlic
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup chopped kalamata olives
salt and pepper
Salt and pepper the fish. Mix tomatoes, olives and garlic with 1 tablespoon of oil. Place the fish on a pan if you are placing in oven or in a basket for the barbeque if you are grilling. Pour tomato mixture on top and drizzle with oil. Bake or grill for 10 minutes on each side.
I had been packing pretty much all week getting ready. I left the last minute things for the end because there are a lot of things we use in a day that we do not realize we need, until we need it. Packing sucks. Every little piece of whatever you have in your house must be examined to throw in the garbage, recycle, donate, or put in a box. This is a task that only you can do.
As I was packing, I came across a lot of things that brought a smile to my face. Objects or clothing that belonged to my kids when they were babies. Stuff they made me at school, including cards for my birthday and Mother’s Day. I even came across special cards that my husband gave me. Our ten year wedding anniversary; a card he gave me after the birth of our twins. During all the hectic time of packing, it is these moments that help you through the frustrating chaos. The sweet memories. I also came across a tiny size 4 suit my son Joseph wore on my sister’s wedding. On that day he seemed so big and grown up to me, and yesterday the suit looked so small. I also had to remove his growth chart that we placed on his wall from when we first moved in. He has grown so much since that day. He turned 9 years old today.
The house we left was the first home we moved into when we moved back from Montreal. It was a home we fell in love with, almost 5years before. It is the house we brought our twins home in, and it is the house that both my older 2 kids left from, to begin their first day of Kindergarten.
When you are in the moment of packing, and then cleaning (gotta make sure you leave a sparkly clean home for the next people) there is no time to think. There is no time to think that it will be the last time you will be washing a dish in that sink, or it is the last time you will be passing the mop on the kitchen floor, or that it will be the last time you will be cleaning the toilet seat in that bathroom. It is only after you did it, that you realize it was the last time.
After all the movers were out and after all the boxes were cleared, all that remained was an empty house. An echo was in place of the noise of the TV, and the garage that was once filled with bikes and scooters...was vacant. I was the last 1 out, so I had to lock up. I put the key in the lock for the last time that day. I turned it, and then I turned around. I waved bye to my neighbours, and welcomed the new home owners and gave them the keys. I wished them as much love and happiness as we had in that home, and then I got in my car and drove away.
Later that day, my sister asked me how I felt and if I had cried when I left. I told her I did not shed a tear. She said to me, “You’re not normal”...lol..As she may be somewhat right about that..lol...I did not feel that I should have felt the need to cry. I was not sad about the house, I was happy. That house held some very happy events. That house held some really funny events. That house held some really weird events. The one thing that house did not hold was MY memories. Those memories were taken with me as I turned the key in the lock. Those memories are instilled in my mind forever. The house was just the walls and floor that held the stage for me and my family.
I took my family with me. We will move into our new house and we will continue to make wonderful memories. A house is just a house. It is the people inside the house that make it a home. My home is where my husband and children are. This past week when I was packing all my stuff from around the house, I labelled my boxes. Kitchen; bathroom; master bedroom; FRAGILE. All my objects are packed up and ready to be placed in our new place. When I left my old house yesterday, I realized that none of those boxes had what I needed to make my new home mine. When we leave a house and move into a new one, it is not the home we will miss, it is the days we shared making the memories. That is something we hold in our hearts and in our minds. No place, house or home can take that away from us.
On April 22, 2010 I left my old address to move into a new one. A new home that will be perfect for the next stage in my family’s life. When we leave a house, we need not to worry if we forgot something or if we left something behind. When we leave our house, we take our most pride possessions with us that no box can carry.
That’s my peace today!
I just came across this fish that is from Canada and tastes like Seabass with a lot less mercury! Absolutely delicious!
Barramundi with olives and cherry tomatoes
6 fillets of barramundi skined and bonned
1 pack cherry tomatoes, chopped
3 crushed cloves garlic
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup chopped kalamata olives
salt and pepper
Salt and pepper the fish. Mix tomatoes, olives and garlic with 1 tablespoon of oil. Place the fish on a pan if you are placing in oven or in a basket for the barbeque if you are grilling. Pour tomato mixture on top and drizzle with oil. Bake or grill for 10 minutes on each side.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
When you least expect it....a miracle happens!
As you all know, this Friday we are moving homes. It has been a very stressful time for me and my family. Moving is never fun or easy but we are going to be fine. Yesterday we had to do all the “legal” part of the move.
As we were signing the papers with the lawyer we began talking about family and kids, all things parents talk about. David (my lawyer) mentioned to my husband and I that he too has 4 kids. That was exciting to us because it is not every day we meet crazy people like us..lol. So the questions began. “How old are your kids?” Boys or girls?” etc. Then he went on to tell us that his oldest 3 are triplets. WOW! We were very surprised to hear that. He then said, “Well... let me tell you the story.”
He had been married for over 5 years and he and his wife were trying for many years to conceive. They then turned to IVF and got pregnant, but miscarried. They tried again, then his wife had an ectopic pregnancy and because of it, the doctors had to remove 1 of her fallopian tubes. After this horrible situation the doctor explained to the couple that they would never be able to conceive naturally on their own. The only other option for them was to use their own embryos to implant in a surrogate mother. This relived them and made them extremely happy. The stress was taken off their back and replaced by sheer joy when both embryos took, and their surrogate mother was carrying twins. A few weeks later as they were still bathing in happiness they got the shock of their life. David’s wife found out she was pregnant. The doctor could not believe it either. The impossible happened. On June 20, 2006 David’s wife gave birth to their son. 3 weeks later on July 10, the surrogate mother gave birth to their 2 biological twin girls.
I was in total amazement. I had goose bumps all over. What an amazing story! A woman that was told would never be able to conceive... did, and not long after she received the news that she was going to have twins. 2 years after her 3 babies were born; she got pregnant again, and gave birth to another daughter; another impossible (according to the doctors).
We hear it all the time. Stress is a killer. Stress is the number 1 reason for heart attacks, over eating; drinking...you get my point. Sometimes we let the littlest things stress us out and get us all worked up. I have heard many times that when couples are told they can never have children, they give up trying, adopt, and then as their adopted baby arrives, they find out they are pregnant. It is the stress that we focus on. We do not think of anything else and it will beat us down. “Don’t sweat the small stuff” Don’t sweat the big stuff.” Sometimes it is really hard to stay focused on things when they get cloudy and blurred. We get consumed with all the things that are not going right that we do not realize that the “right” things will happen if we just let go of the stress.
Yesterday I was taught or I will say “retaught” that when we least expect it, good things happen. I was taught that just when you give up on something; something great happens. I was taught that when 1 door closes, another 1 opens. When I was listening to the story of my lawyer and his wife’s journey into parenthood, all the silly stress of moving was put aside. All the stress of “how am I going to get this all done?” just went away. Our journey is blessed if we take it in stride, if we take it for all the good and unseen blessings of everyday life. Because once in a while in this world, when we least expect it...a miracle happens.
That’s my peace today!
Bread toasts
this is great for Italian bread that gets hard and instead of throwing this is easy and deicious!
1 Italian baguette
1/2 cup olive oil
salt
Slice the bread into thin toasts (almost paper thin), and lay on baking pan. Drizzle oil on both sides of bread and salt. (You can also rub fresh garlic if you like) Bake in oven at 350 degress for 7-8 minutes (do not overbake bc they burn easily)
As we were signing the papers with the lawyer we began talking about family and kids, all things parents talk about. David (my lawyer) mentioned to my husband and I that he too has 4 kids. That was exciting to us because it is not every day we meet crazy people like us..lol. So the questions began. “How old are your kids?” Boys or girls?” etc. Then he went on to tell us that his oldest 3 are triplets. WOW! We were very surprised to hear that. He then said, “Well... let me tell you the story.”
He had been married for over 5 years and he and his wife were trying for many years to conceive. They then turned to IVF and got pregnant, but miscarried. They tried again, then his wife had an ectopic pregnancy and because of it, the doctors had to remove 1 of her fallopian tubes. After this horrible situation the doctor explained to the couple that they would never be able to conceive naturally on their own. The only other option for them was to use their own embryos to implant in a surrogate mother. This relived them and made them extremely happy. The stress was taken off their back and replaced by sheer joy when both embryos took, and their surrogate mother was carrying twins. A few weeks later as they were still bathing in happiness they got the shock of their life. David’s wife found out she was pregnant. The doctor could not believe it either. The impossible happened. On June 20, 2006 David’s wife gave birth to their son. 3 weeks later on July 10, the surrogate mother gave birth to their 2 biological twin girls.
I was in total amazement. I had goose bumps all over. What an amazing story! A woman that was told would never be able to conceive... did, and not long after she received the news that she was going to have twins. 2 years after her 3 babies were born; she got pregnant again, and gave birth to another daughter; another impossible (according to the doctors).
We hear it all the time. Stress is a killer. Stress is the number 1 reason for heart attacks, over eating; drinking...you get my point. Sometimes we let the littlest things stress us out and get us all worked up. I have heard many times that when couples are told they can never have children, they give up trying, adopt, and then as their adopted baby arrives, they find out they are pregnant. It is the stress that we focus on. We do not think of anything else and it will beat us down. “Don’t sweat the small stuff” Don’t sweat the big stuff.” Sometimes it is really hard to stay focused on things when they get cloudy and blurred. We get consumed with all the things that are not going right that we do not realize that the “right” things will happen if we just let go of the stress.
Yesterday I was taught or I will say “retaught” that when we least expect it, good things happen. I was taught that just when you give up on something; something great happens. I was taught that when 1 door closes, another 1 opens. When I was listening to the story of my lawyer and his wife’s journey into parenthood, all the silly stress of moving was put aside. All the stress of “how am I going to get this all done?” just went away. Our journey is blessed if we take it in stride, if we take it for all the good and unseen blessings of everyday life. Because once in a while in this world, when we least expect it...a miracle happens.
That’s my peace today!
Bread toasts
this is great for Italian bread that gets hard and instead of throwing this is easy and deicious!
1 Italian baguette
1/2 cup olive oil
salt
Slice the bread into thin toasts (almost paper thin), and lay on baking pan. Drizzle oil on both sides of bread and salt. (You can also rub fresh garlic if you like) Bake in oven at 350 degress for 7-8 minutes (do not overbake bc they burn easily)
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The sun always shines on TV
Do you guys remember that song? If you do, then you are just as young as me..lol. It was a song from the band AHA and it came out back in the 80’s. I never really understood all those years ago until it hit me last night.
I was putting my son Michael to bed, after I just finish putting Jenna to bed and after I just finished packing 5 boxes for my move. As I was patting his bum to fall asleep I thought about life, and the life we lead with kids. It is not sooo bad, and it is not sooo hard all the time, but it is challenging at best. So anyway, for some reason I thought about that song from AHA. At that moment as I was tapping Michael and comforting him, I thought about how different they portray parenthood on TV.
Think about a Bounty commercial. I mean what mother in your right mind would just smile, pull out the Bounty paper towels after a bunch of 6 year olds come running through your recently mopped kitchen with mud and dirt? What mother do you know would smile after their toddler child just used their pressed cream coloured outfit (besides the fact that we mothers do not wear cream!) as a napkin to wipe off tomato sauce...all thanks to TIDE to go???? Give me a break. I know many, many, many mothers, but I do not know 1...not 1...that would smile after any of that.
Ads also portray women with their husbands and how in “control” they seem to be. The husbands always seem to look like they fear their wives...now you tell me...is that real?? Ok maybe for some..but definitely not in my home..lol. “Are you talking about my weight?” That Cheerios commercial...”Yes woman he was talking about your weight...are you going to beat him now?” The husband looked all scared..lol. TV shows are not any different. Just like the days when Mike from Growing Pains always ended up telling the truth. Or how Samantha from Who’s the Boss would always do the “right” thing. Real life does not work that way.
How about love stories on the big screen? The single, lonely, gorgeous woman always gets the equally lonely, gorgeous, perfect, no defects, single man. Ya right...we all know that man does not even exist..lol. My point is, television is our outlet for fantasy. We want to believe that all that exists, we want to believe that our kids would cuddle up beside us at 16 years old and tell us that he/she did the “right” thing.
Sometimes when I watch these commercials that portray this June Cleaver kind of mother, it makes me question my own skills..lol. I think that maybe I should be more patient and happy when my kids spill a thermos full of orange juice all over my white carpet. When I ask my own friends if they would smile with that scenario...they answer exactly what I would...I would beat them with a wooden stick..lol..ahhh...now that makes me feel “normal”...lol.
So last night when I was thinking of own parenting skills, while I was waiting for little Michael to close his eyes, I briefly thought, “hmm...what would the lady on the Bounty commercial do with my stress?” and then I thought, “who gives a crap what that damn actress would do...lol...I am me...and I knew at that moment...that the sun only shines on TV..lol.
That’s my peace today!
Swiss Chard and Leek Soup
1 bunch swiss chard
1 leek cut (white and light green parts only)
4 cups water
1 potato chopped
salt and pepper
In a large pot, add swiss chard, potato, and cut leeks.Add salt and pepper. Bring to a boil and cook until tender. Take 1/2 contents out and puree in blender, add back into soup and boil for another 10 minutes.
I was putting my son Michael to bed, after I just finish putting Jenna to bed and after I just finished packing 5 boxes for my move. As I was patting his bum to fall asleep I thought about life, and the life we lead with kids. It is not sooo bad, and it is not sooo hard all the time, but it is challenging at best. So anyway, for some reason I thought about that song from AHA. At that moment as I was tapping Michael and comforting him, I thought about how different they portray parenthood on TV.
Think about a Bounty commercial. I mean what mother in your right mind would just smile, pull out the Bounty paper towels after a bunch of 6 year olds come running through your recently mopped kitchen with mud and dirt? What mother do you know would smile after their toddler child just used their pressed cream coloured outfit (besides the fact that we mothers do not wear cream!) as a napkin to wipe off tomato sauce...all thanks to TIDE to go???? Give me a break. I know many, many, many mothers, but I do not know 1...not 1...that would smile after any of that.
Ads also portray women with their husbands and how in “control” they seem to be. The husbands always seem to look like they fear their wives...now you tell me...is that real?? Ok maybe for some..but definitely not in my home..lol. “Are you talking about my weight?” That Cheerios commercial...”Yes woman he was talking about your weight...are you going to beat him now?” The husband looked all scared..lol. TV shows are not any different. Just like the days when Mike from Growing Pains always ended up telling the truth. Or how Samantha from Who’s the Boss would always do the “right” thing. Real life does not work that way.
How about love stories on the big screen? The single, lonely, gorgeous woman always gets the equally lonely, gorgeous, perfect, no defects, single man. Ya right...we all know that man does not even exist..lol. My point is, television is our outlet for fantasy. We want to believe that all that exists, we want to believe that our kids would cuddle up beside us at 16 years old and tell us that he/she did the “right” thing.
Sometimes when I watch these commercials that portray this June Cleaver kind of mother, it makes me question my own skills..lol. I think that maybe I should be more patient and happy when my kids spill a thermos full of orange juice all over my white carpet. When I ask my own friends if they would smile with that scenario...they answer exactly what I would...I would beat them with a wooden stick..lol..ahhh...now that makes me feel “normal”...lol.
So last night when I was thinking of own parenting skills, while I was waiting for little Michael to close his eyes, I briefly thought, “hmm...what would the lady on the Bounty commercial do with my stress?” and then I thought, “who gives a crap what that damn actress would do...lol...I am me...and I knew at that moment...that the sun only shines on TV..lol.
That’s my peace today!
Swiss Chard and Leek Soup
1 bunch swiss chard
1 leek cut (white and light green parts only)
4 cups water
1 potato chopped
salt and pepper
In a large pot, add swiss chard, potato, and cut leeks.Add salt and pepper. Bring to a boil and cook until tender. Take 1/2 contents out and puree in blender, add back into soup and boil for another 10 minutes.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Love "Version 2010"
I remember growing up in a strict Italian home where nothing was given for nothing. Things had to be earned and or appreciated. Gifts were given on birthdays or Christmas and a fruit roll up was something we saw on TV. “Money doesn’t grow on trees” was a stamp saying in our home and “go help your mother” was another. This was not rare or unheard of either, that was the “norm” for me and my friends.
Today, love is “measured” by how much we buy for your kids. “You don’t love me mommy, because if you did, you would buy me that” is what my soon to be 9 year old tells me. He can only get away with that for so long until I get fed up; open the sliding door (that backs on to a forest) and I literally whip whatever he has in hands into the deer -friendly woods. It’s not only my children who seem to just want everything they see. I witness it when I am out and about. Kids whining, kids begging, and then kids getting what they want.
I remember begging my mother...and I mean begging her for a pair of shoes that I just had to have. I didn’t need them, so to my mother’s logic, she was not going to buy me anything I did not need. There was no giving in; there was no pulling out a lollipop to calm me down. It was just plain old NO! If I didn’t stop whining, then when we got home I went straight to my room for adding extra drama on the outing.
Shopping was not a past time. My mother went shopping when we needed something. Maybe a dress for an upcoming wedding, or a pair of indoor runners or maybe a pair of warm winter boots. We did not go to the mall because she was bored and she felt like entertaining us, we went to the park (that was free) for that.
I sometimes get frustrated with my own children and then with myself. Yesterday, I tried to think of 5 things that I can do with my kids that I did not need to pull out my wallet for? I came up with a few but the point is, I do not usually do those things. My husband was working and it was a beautiful day. I wanted to take the kids for a walk, so I got them ready and we went. I did not leave without my wallet. I knew that I would be caught somewhere and I would need money. We ended up at La Paloma (an Italian much overpriced ice cream place). 3 small piccolo ice creams...$15!...My reaction....PRICELESS! I could not believe they raised their prices again. My kids took their ice cream and we went outside to enjoy the beautiful weather. They had no idea that I just spent almost $20 for 3 ice creams. My mother would have taken us to Miracle Mart, she would have bought 1 tub of Chapman’s, a pack of cones, and we would have eaten ice cream for the week... for $2!
I am not trying to say that my kids are spoiled, and do not appreciate things because they are good kids (when they sleep..lol) and they do respect when I say something or when I demand something, or when I ask them to do things. They get an allowance when they do their designated chores around the house because I feel like they will understand what it is to earn money. My daughter is so cute, when I told her La Paloma was so much money she said, “It’s ok mommy, I will pay with my money” She went upstairs to get her wallet. That made me smile because at least I knew she “understood”.
Sometimes I think that it is not our kids. In fact, I know it is not our kids. How do they know what “Diesel” is? How do they know what Juicy Couture is? We teach them. We teach them that they have to look nice. We teach them that shopping is a hobby and a necessity. Kids cannot learn that on their own. I know that I am guilty of overindulging my kids sometimes. It is not something I am proud of and I try to teach them that money is something you need to earn. I just hope that they do get it; I just hope that my kids will appreciate and respect everything, like when I was a kid. “Times are different” is what I tell my mother all the time. Yes times are different. I grew up in a time where love was shown with the wooden spoon on my ass..lol..Now it’s love “version 2010”. Love doesn’t change, the people do.
That’s my peace today!
Nutella filled Crepes
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup water
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter, melted
1 jar Nutella
Whisk all ingredients in a bowl (except Nutella). In a heated wide pan take a ladle of batter and pour. Lift pan and spread the batter so it goes all around in a thin layer. Cook about 2 min, loosen with spatula, flip and cook over side. Remove put in plate, spread as much nutella as desired and roll closed.
Today, love is “measured” by how much we buy for your kids. “You don’t love me mommy, because if you did, you would buy me that” is what my soon to be 9 year old tells me. He can only get away with that for so long until I get fed up; open the sliding door (that backs on to a forest) and I literally whip whatever he has in hands into the deer -friendly woods. It’s not only my children who seem to just want everything they see. I witness it when I am out and about. Kids whining, kids begging, and then kids getting what they want.
I remember begging my mother...and I mean begging her for a pair of shoes that I just had to have. I didn’t need them, so to my mother’s logic, she was not going to buy me anything I did not need. There was no giving in; there was no pulling out a lollipop to calm me down. It was just plain old NO! If I didn’t stop whining, then when we got home I went straight to my room for adding extra drama on the outing.
Shopping was not a past time. My mother went shopping when we needed something. Maybe a dress for an upcoming wedding, or a pair of indoor runners or maybe a pair of warm winter boots. We did not go to the mall because she was bored and she felt like entertaining us, we went to the park (that was free) for that.
I sometimes get frustrated with my own children and then with myself. Yesterday, I tried to think of 5 things that I can do with my kids that I did not need to pull out my wallet for? I came up with a few but the point is, I do not usually do those things. My husband was working and it was a beautiful day. I wanted to take the kids for a walk, so I got them ready and we went. I did not leave without my wallet. I knew that I would be caught somewhere and I would need money. We ended up at La Paloma (an Italian much overpriced ice cream place). 3 small piccolo ice creams...$15!...My reaction....PRICELESS! I could not believe they raised their prices again. My kids took their ice cream and we went outside to enjoy the beautiful weather. They had no idea that I just spent almost $20 for 3 ice creams. My mother would have taken us to Miracle Mart, she would have bought 1 tub of Chapman’s, a pack of cones, and we would have eaten ice cream for the week... for $2!
I am not trying to say that my kids are spoiled, and do not appreciate things because they are good kids (when they sleep..lol) and they do respect when I say something or when I demand something, or when I ask them to do things. They get an allowance when they do their designated chores around the house because I feel like they will understand what it is to earn money. My daughter is so cute, when I told her La Paloma was so much money she said, “It’s ok mommy, I will pay with my money” She went upstairs to get her wallet. That made me smile because at least I knew she “understood”.
Sometimes I think that it is not our kids. In fact, I know it is not our kids. How do they know what “Diesel” is? How do they know what Juicy Couture is? We teach them. We teach them that they have to look nice. We teach them that shopping is a hobby and a necessity. Kids cannot learn that on their own. I know that I am guilty of overindulging my kids sometimes. It is not something I am proud of and I try to teach them that money is something you need to earn. I just hope that they do get it; I just hope that my kids will appreciate and respect everything, like when I was a kid. “Times are different” is what I tell my mother all the time. Yes times are different. I grew up in a time where love was shown with the wooden spoon on my ass..lol..Now it’s love “version 2010”. Love doesn’t change, the people do.
That’s my peace today!
Nutella filled Crepes
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup water
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter, melted
1 jar Nutella
Whisk all ingredients in a bowl (except Nutella). In a heated wide pan take a ladle of batter and pour. Lift pan and spread the batter so it goes all around in a thin layer. Cook about 2 min, loosen with spatula, flip and cook over side. Remove put in plate, spread as much nutella as desired and roll closed.
Friday, April 9, 2010
A father's love for his son
On March 27th I attended my work’s annual Spring meeting. Along with all the work stuff and routine presentations, the CEO of our company invited a motivational speaker to talk to all the attendees. I was anticipating his presentation because my boss spoke so highly of him and his speeches.
As the day began we went through all the work stuff and our speaker was up. He told us some really motivational stories of survival and leadership. He told 1 story that touched my heart and changed me forever, and I would like to share this story will all of you.
This is the story of Rick and Dick Hoyt. Over 40 years ago Dick and his wife gave birth to a baby boy named Rick. There were complications with the umbilical cord and he did not receive enough oxygen to his brain; this caused permanent brain damage and an inability to move his limbs. The doctor explained to his parents that he would be a vegetable for the rest of his life, but Dick could not believe it.
When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help their son communicate. "No way,'' Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain.'' "Tell him a joke,'' Dick said. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. His first words he uttered were "Go Bruins!''
In high school, a fellow classmate became paralyzed due to an accident and the school was running a marathon for him to raise money. Rick told his dad he wanted to do that. Dick was unsure because he knew he would have to push his son’s wheelchair that day, he was not in any shape to do that. But he did it for Rick. That day changed Rick's life. "Dad,'' he typed, "When we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!'' And that sentence changed Dick's life forever. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such great shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon. Dick was told by an official that he would not be able to run in the marathon. The Hoyt's weren't a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. So, for the first few years, Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway.
Later, they would find a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year. Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?'' How was a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done over 200 triathlons, and if that wasn’t enough, they participated in more than a few grueling 15-hour Ironman competitions.
After many years of Dick and Rick running and inspiring, Dick had a massive heart attack due to a genetic disposition. Dick survived. The doctor explained to him that any “normal” man his age would have never survived a heart attack of that caliber, but because he was in such good shape, he lived. Had he not ran all these years pushing his son in all these races, he would have died before the age of 65. Rick needed Dick all those years for all the races, but in the end, it was Dick that thanked his son Rick for saving his own life.
This is the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt.
This real life story is a true example of unconditional love of a parent. This story touched me deeper than I could have imagined. We all know that our parents love us. We all know our parents would walk on fire for us. We all know that our parents would cut off their right arm for us. We all know the love of our own children, and we can only imagine how Dick felt when the doctors told him and his wife all those years ago that their son would be a vegetable. Rick Hoyt was not a vegetable. Rick Hoyt was not disabled. His father made him able. His father made him live. His father made him feel like he was running, when doctors said he never would.
This is a story of hope. This is a story of determination. This is a story of a father’s love for his son.
That’s my peace today!
Italian style grilled cheese
Thick toast bread
12 slices of provolone cheese
6 slices prosciutto cotto
2 large buffalo mozzarella sliced
1/4 cup butter
12 springs fresh basil
Take 2 slices per sandwich. Add 2 slices provolone, 2 slices of mozzarella and 1 slice of prosciutto and 2 slices of basil. Repeat for all 6 sandwiches. In a heated pan put the butter and add each sandwich, flipping after 3 minutes. Grill until both sides are golden and cheese is melted.
As the day began we went through all the work stuff and our speaker was up. He told us some really motivational stories of survival and leadership. He told 1 story that touched my heart and changed me forever, and I would like to share this story will all of you.
This is the story of Rick and Dick Hoyt. Over 40 years ago Dick and his wife gave birth to a baby boy named Rick. There were complications with the umbilical cord and he did not receive enough oxygen to his brain; this caused permanent brain damage and an inability to move his limbs. The doctor explained to his parents that he would be a vegetable for the rest of his life, but Dick could not believe it.
When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help their son communicate. "No way,'' Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain.'' "Tell him a joke,'' Dick said. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. His first words he uttered were "Go Bruins!''
In high school, a fellow classmate became paralyzed due to an accident and the school was running a marathon for him to raise money. Rick told his dad he wanted to do that. Dick was unsure because he knew he would have to push his son’s wheelchair that day, he was not in any shape to do that. But he did it for Rick. That day changed Rick's life. "Dad,'' he typed, "When we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!'' And that sentence changed Dick's life forever. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such great shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon. Dick was told by an official that he would not be able to run in the marathon. The Hoyt's weren't a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. So, for the first few years, Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway.
Later, they would find a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year. Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?'' How was a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done over 200 triathlons, and if that wasn’t enough, they participated in more than a few grueling 15-hour Ironman competitions.
After many years of Dick and Rick running and inspiring, Dick had a massive heart attack due to a genetic disposition. Dick survived. The doctor explained to him that any “normal” man his age would have never survived a heart attack of that caliber, but because he was in such good shape, he lived. Had he not ran all these years pushing his son in all these races, he would have died before the age of 65. Rick needed Dick all those years for all the races, but in the end, it was Dick that thanked his son Rick for saving his own life.
This is the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt.
This real life story is a true example of unconditional love of a parent. This story touched me deeper than I could have imagined. We all know that our parents love us. We all know our parents would walk on fire for us. We all know that our parents would cut off their right arm for us. We all know the love of our own children, and we can only imagine how Dick felt when the doctors told him and his wife all those years ago that their son would be a vegetable. Rick Hoyt was not a vegetable. Rick Hoyt was not disabled. His father made him able. His father made him live. His father made him feel like he was running, when doctors said he never would.
This is a story of hope. This is a story of determination. This is a story of a father’s love for his son.
That’s my peace today!
Italian style grilled cheese
Thick toast bread
12 slices of provolone cheese
6 slices prosciutto cotto
2 large buffalo mozzarella sliced
1/4 cup butter
12 springs fresh basil
Take 2 slices per sandwich. Add 2 slices provolone, 2 slices of mozzarella and 1 slice of prosciutto and 2 slices of basil. Repeat for all 6 sandwiches. In a heated pan put the butter and add each sandwich, flipping after 3 minutes. Grill until both sides are golden and cheese is melted.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
It's all in the way you see it
This past weekend we made a trip to Montreal to celebrate the Easter holiday. It has been a tradition in my father’s family for the past 44 years. We ventured off on Friday and planned to stay until Monday morning. We wanted to take advantage of also visiting my husband’s family.
We arrived on Friday and we had a very nice weekend with the family. Easter lunch went without a hitch and we all reunited with all of our aunts, uncles, and cousins. We had a wonderful meal and a wonderful weekend filled with family.
On Monday morning we were getting ready to come back home. My husband noticed that the front tires needed some air. As he goes to add air, I hear a panicked husband. Apparently the valve that holds the pin closed at the tire was all corroded. He couldn’t believe what he saw, and as he looked at the other tires, he noticed all 4 tires had the same problem. He began to freak. Apparently if the pin comes out, the whole tire will blow out air at once...obviously not good. The reason why he was angry was because he just brought the car in on Wednesday for a tire rotation to get ready for the long distance drive. It was at that moment that he realized that the dealership did not do their job. When you rotate tires you are supposed to check tire pressure, and if they did that, they would have seen this huge problem. My mommy mobile is not even 2 years old; it should not have this kind of problem.
To fast forward the story, we ended up driving to the closest dealership to get this dangerous problem fixed. We had 4 kids in the car, and the last thing we wanted to do was to take a chance at driving on the 401 with unsafe tires. When we got to the dealership (after driving for over an hour to find it) my husband went into the shop. My kids were already rowdy and fed up. We had already been in the car for almost 2 hours driving, and waiting. My twins were on their second set of clothes and their 4th diaper. The older 2 were fighting because they wanted to choose the next movie. So he comes out...and....it was 12:15 and the only time they were able to squeeze us in....1:30pm!!! Another 1 hour and 15 minutes of waiting, and then at least another hour before the tires were fixed. It started raining so we went t inside, well that didn’t turn out well either. There was a tiny waiting room...with only 4 chairs. 2 were taken and I didn’t think the women waiting would like to be stuck in a tiny room with 4 whining kids.
We made our way back outside, as we were sitting on the bench a man who drove a shuttle service for the dealership asked us if we wanted a ride somewhere. Did we want a ride somewhere????? A yaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! He was able to drive us to my sister-in-laws place. We were there all day; our truck was ready at 4:30p! The mechanic who fixed our car told my husband we made the right decision to get the tires fixed. He told him he had never seen that before and that all 4 tire vales were damaged. We ended up staying in Montreal 1 more night just not to drive at night.
The day was long, and it was pretty annoying. My kids were tried, wanted to get out of the car, and so did I. My first thought when this all happened was, “Oh great, just our luck.” We planned on going home on Monday but as we all know, sometimes things just don’t work out like we plan. I then paused and tried to look at the “good” in all of it. I then thought, “Thank God Franco noticed something was wrong with the tires because it could have been dangerous.” We were saved from something worse. We were lucky enough to be stuck in the dingy, small, dealership waiting room. We were lucky enough to be eating our packed lunch while we were waiting in the rain for our truck to get fixed.
Life is all about these little “lucky” breaks we get. If we take a situation that sucks and look at it from a different angle, it all seems a lot less crappy. Big deal that we lost a day by sitting and waiting, big deal that my kids had 4 dirty diapers within 1 hour, and big deal that I stepped in the mud before getting into my truck. The end result was that my family was safe. The end result is that we got what we needed and we had the right people to help us do that. I guess for a moment on Monday morning I thought our luck was not our way. If I would have seen it for what it was, I would have known in an instant that we were very lucky on Monday morning.
That’s my peace today!
Panzarotti Mushroom Roll
1 pizza dough
2 cups shredded mozzarella
4 cups mixed mushrooms
1/4 olive oil
salt and pepper
1/4 c chopped parsley
1 clove chopped parsley
Cut dough into 6 pieces. Roll out on counter using flour, make as thin as possible. Meanwhile in a pan add oil, garlic and mushrooms, salt and pepper and parsley. Remove from heat. Divide in 6 parts. In centre of dough add mushrooms and 1/ 6th mozzarella, rolling from one end until completely rolled into a log. Place in oven at 425 degrees for 20 minutes or until golden.
We arrived on Friday and we had a very nice weekend with the family. Easter lunch went without a hitch and we all reunited with all of our aunts, uncles, and cousins. We had a wonderful meal and a wonderful weekend filled with family.
On Monday morning we were getting ready to come back home. My husband noticed that the front tires needed some air. As he goes to add air, I hear a panicked husband. Apparently the valve that holds the pin closed at the tire was all corroded. He couldn’t believe what he saw, and as he looked at the other tires, he noticed all 4 tires had the same problem. He began to freak. Apparently if the pin comes out, the whole tire will blow out air at once...obviously not good. The reason why he was angry was because he just brought the car in on Wednesday for a tire rotation to get ready for the long distance drive. It was at that moment that he realized that the dealership did not do their job. When you rotate tires you are supposed to check tire pressure, and if they did that, they would have seen this huge problem. My mommy mobile is not even 2 years old; it should not have this kind of problem.
To fast forward the story, we ended up driving to the closest dealership to get this dangerous problem fixed. We had 4 kids in the car, and the last thing we wanted to do was to take a chance at driving on the 401 with unsafe tires. When we got to the dealership (after driving for over an hour to find it) my husband went into the shop. My kids were already rowdy and fed up. We had already been in the car for almost 2 hours driving, and waiting. My twins were on their second set of clothes and their 4th diaper. The older 2 were fighting because they wanted to choose the next movie. So he comes out...and....it was 12:15 and the only time they were able to squeeze us in....1:30pm!!! Another 1 hour and 15 minutes of waiting, and then at least another hour before the tires were fixed. It started raining so we went t inside, well that didn’t turn out well either. There was a tiny waiting room...with only 4 chairs. 2 were taken and I didn’t think the women waiting would like to be stuck in a tiny room with 4 whining kids.
We made our way back outside, as we were sitting on the bench a man who drove a shuttle service for the dealership asked us if we wanted a ride somewhere. Did we want a ride somewhere????? A yaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! He was able to drive us to my sister-in-laws place. We were there all day; our truck was ready at 4:30p! The mechanic who fixed our car told my husband we made the right decision to get the tires fixed. He told him he had never seen that before and that all 4 tire vales were damaged. We ended up staying in Montreal 1 more night just not to drive at night.
The day was long, and it was pretty annoying. My kids were tried, wanted to get out of the car, and so did I. My first thought when this all happened was, “Oh great, just our luck.” We planned on going home on Monday but as we all know, sometimes things just don’t work out like we plan. I then paused and tried to look at the “good” in all of it. I then thought, “Thank God Franco noticed something was wrong with the tires because it could have been dangerous.” We were saved from something worse. We were lucky enough to be stuck in the dingy, small, dealership waiting room. We were lucky enough to be eating our packed lunch while we were waiting in the rain for our truck to get fixed.
Life is all about these little “lucky” breaks we get. If we take a situation that sucks and look at it from a different angle, it all seems a lot less crappy. Big deal that we lost a day by sitting and waiting, big deal that my kids had 4 dirty diapers within 1 hour, and big deal that I stepped in the mud before getting into my truck. The end result was that my family was safe. The end result is that we got what we needed and we had the right people to help us do that. I guess for a moment on Monday morning I thought our luck was not our way. If I would have seen it for what it was, I would have known in an instant that we were very lucky on Monday morning.
That’s my peace today!
Panzarotti Mushroom Roll
1 pizza dough
2 cups shredded mozzarella
4 cups mixed mushrooms
1/4 olive oil
salt and pepper
1/4 c chopped parsley
1 clove chopped parsley
Cut dough into 6 pieces. Roll out on counter using flour, make as thin as possible. Meanwhile in a pan add oil, garlic and mushrooms, salt and pepper and parsley. Remove from heat. Divide in 6 parts. In centre of dough add mushrooms and 1/ 6th mozzarella, rolling from one end until completely rolled into a log. Place in oven at 425 degrees for 20 minutes or until golden.
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