Ok so summer 2016 is almost half way done. We have had record hot temperatures and the humidex is off the charts. I have decided I am befriending people with pools, so if anyone would like to offer, i am in!
I remember my summers as a kid, it was pretty much, wake up, go outside to see who was with me for the day, go for my daily bike ride or a walk to Beckers to buy a 15 cent freezie, and that was it. There was no IPAD or computer or device of any kind, and you know what else there wasn't anything of ??... whining. Whining was not allowed. If i dare ask my mother to go out or do something fun and exciting, she literally laughed in my face. She gave me siblings, that was her duty to provide ongoing entertainment for the rest of my natural existence on this earth. And she was not the only one who thought that way, it was a whole cult of moms that joined forces to instill in our tiny little brains that we had to entertain ourselves. So we did! Don't get me wrong, we did do family stuff on the weekends and we had fun, but during the week - we made our own fun.
Let me ask you this...when was the last time you saw kids outside playing hide and go seek? I dare you to ask your kids what that is and they will look at you like you just told them that we didn't have flat screen tvs - baffled. When was the last time you saw kids throwing water balloons or going threw a sprinkler? I know when i suggest a sprinkler to my kids its, "mom but the water is cold", and questions like, "do we just run through it? that's it? that's the activity?"
We didn't have Vaughan Mills, Aritzia or Justice, the only justice we knew was when our parents stubbed their toe after reaming us for not making our beds.
I love my kids, they are good sweet children, but i will admit, they are a pain in my as* sometimes. Daily questions, "Mom what are doing today" "Mom where are we going now?" "Mom, can we go to the mall, i NEED another pair of really expensive runners that I will ruin in a week because I know that when I ruin them, you will bring me to buy another pair." And the money, holy Jesus, I cant even go to Starbucks without needing to apply for a loan. Starbucks...can you imagine if our mothers brought us for a Frappocino? hahahahha the Frappocino we got was an egg whipped up with some sugar, that was our "frapp"acino.
Kids just don't get it. They don't understand that spending $25 on whipped beverages is a lot of money. They don't get that going to Dave and Busters was for a classmates birthday and not to kill time before dinner, or that going to the drive-in last week was a privilege! But it's not their faults. Its our fault. We have created a world for them that revolves around them. We cater to their needs, we allow them to be "bored" and to spend time on their IPAD when they should be outside playing with friends.
I don't want to critisize because I do appreciate that our kids can still enjoy life without devices, frappocinos and daily trips to the mall. That sometimes we entertain them because its easier for us, and it makes us happy to see them happy. Mothers always have the best intentions for our children. Whatever we do, we do it because we love them and we want them to be happy. But I know we also want to raise children that can figure out how to manage life without constant glitz and glamour. To figure out that some days we should just "hang out" grab a ball and go to the park.
I know that giving my kid an IPAD or turning the tv on is an easy way for them to be entertained. Or taking them for a cool $10 refreshment allows me to get one too. And going to get a manicure or pedicure with my daughters may be considered a bonding experience, but let me just say this...let's try it. Let's go out and buy a $10 sprinkler instead of a $10 Frapp and throw it outside on the yard. Maybe get a bucket with water and Palmolive dish soap (the green one for nostalgia) and get the kids to make their own bubbles. Let's sit back and have a good old fashioned 1986 summer. A summer filled with the occasional "dickie Dee" and an old fashioned game of hide and go seek. Ask your kids to call on the neighbourhood kids and start up a baseball game at the dead end of the street, and ask them to practice summer saults and cart wheels on the grass instead of in the house, and I bet the fat on my behind that they will have a very memorable, awesome, creative and fun filled summer. No rewards or tokens of monetary value for good behaviour. Their reward will be the memory that will be created in their minds. The memories of summer time fun outside sitting on the green box talking with friends, and going for a bike ride. The memories that make childhood feel like it should. Make memories so that the story can begin with "Remember when Jenna couldn't find me because i hid under the poison ivy in the back forest, instead of remember when i couldn't find Pokeman on my Ipod."
It's time to introduce summer to our kids. Let them know that July and August are for fun in the sun, free of Frappocinos and outfits from Iviva. Go on the fun day at Wonderland, or the splash pad but also get them to learn how to have fun on their own. Get that BPA free, retractable garden hose and throw it on the landscaped lawn, pump up the ice cold hose water and attach it to the "Made for Tv" sprinkler and let them run through and "open up the drapes". Sit back with other moms, a glass of sangria and a bowl of popcorn and enjoy going back to the 80s with your kids. Go back to the time when we ran through a sprinkler, played hide and go seek, rode our bikes and really enjoyed summer time as summer time.
that's my peace today!
Wednesday, July 27, 2016
Monday, July 4, 2016
What? I'm not cool???
Ok so the worst thing in the world happened to me last week! Ok, I may be exaggerating slightly, ok i am exaggerating a lot! But just the same, it was terrible!
My kids and I went for our usual Tim Horton's run. My medium 2 milk and 1 sugar addiction. I pulled into the parking lot and went to the drive thru, we turned around quickly because the line up was too long and I just didn't have the time to wait the 10 min.
As we were leaving the parking lot something big happened, something HUGE, something so big that it took me some time to get over, and I'm not sure if I am over it yet! Joseph, (my 15 year old) was sitting in the front side passengers seat, suddenly ducked into his feet! In plain site, broad daylight, just hunched over and disappeared! What? What the heck was going on? I was so confused? Was he vomiting, was he tying his shoe that didn't even have laces?what was it? what happened????
As I was pondering over the reasons why my son suddenly dropped like he was told there was going to be an emergency landing, I saw them. I saw the reasons why my son that I gave birth to only 15 years ago, humped over in his seat. 4 young ladies were standing in the parking lot. 4 cute, sweet looking, 15 year old girls.
I gasped, I laughed and then I gasped again. I said, "Omg Joseph did you just duck for your life because of those girls over there? Please tell me you have to throw up and that's the reason, don't let the reason be because you are embarrassed of me," he laughed and said "Mom, are we out of the parking lot?" OMG, it was the reason.
When he got up, he was giggling, and so were my other 3 kids in the back. I said, "could it be Joseph? are you embarrassed to be with your mother on a Thursday night? Aren't I cool enough for you anymore?" He replied, "Mom, they go to my school." School? So?????? Who cares if they go to your school???
You guys don't understand...my son adored me! I was the cool mom, the mom that managed his hockey team, the mom that his friends all talked to, the woman that when he was 2, wanted to marry! That used to be me! What happened? Was I not cool anymore? This sort of thing didn't happen to me! Not me!
I began to tell him that I pulled the move a million times when I was a teenager, but that's because Nonna and Nonno were not cool like me. They were not cool parents, they were parents. Like the parents that people don't want to hang out with, the parent's that were annoying and strict and not fun, those kind of parents. Was that me?
I was so distraught about what had just happened that the next day while visiting Am, my sister, I repeated the story. My sister and her husband burst my bubble. I wasn't cool. I was his mom and no matter how cool I think I really am, i am not!
Life has a very funny way of working itself out. There is a saying in Italian that I will translate, "The wheel turns". Simple enough philosophy. We start off being the students, the ones that learn and listen. We take some pieces of knowledge and we grow. We go through stages and we transition into new ones. We never think that what we learned, what we did and how we behaved would transfer into our little offsprings; we were different, we were us, we were hip. Um, not so much!
I went from being someone's daughter to being someone's mother. I may think that I know it all, i am the coolest, most fashionable and most adorable mother, but guess what...I'm not! I guess I have to be ok with my new "role" of, not so cool mom, although I still have some cool days left with my little ones, but the fact remains, last Thursday, realization came into play.
Diana is not a cool mom, Diana is a mom that her son ducks down to hide from girls, and a mom that has changed her role. But you see, the wheel, it turns, and one day, my cool hand Joseph son will be driving his offspring to the nearest Tim Horton's coffee shop (yes they will still be around) and he will have that same gazed, confused look on his face when his child ducks and disappears in plain site, and when that happens, I guarantee you, he too will think, "What? I'm not cool?"
That's my peace today!
My kids and I went for our usual Tim Horton's run. My medium 2 milk and 1 sugar addiction. I pulled into the parking lot and went to the drive thru, we turned around quickly because the line up was too long and I just didn't have the time to wait the 10 min.
As we were leaving the parking lot something big happened, something HUGE, something so big that it took me some time to get over, and I'm not sure if I am over it yet! Joseph, (my 15 year old) was sitting in the front side passengers seat, suddenly ducked into his feet! In plain site, broad daylight, just hunched over and disappeared! What? What the heck was going on? I was so confused? Was he vomiting, was he tying his shoe that didn't even have laces?what was it? what happened????
As I was pondering over the reasons why my son suddenly dropped like he was told there was going to be an emergency landing, I saw them. I saw the reasons why my son that I gave birth to only 15 years ago, humped over in his seat. 4 young ladies were standing in the parking lot. 4 cute, sweet looking, 15 year old girls.
I gasped, I laughed and then I gasped again. I said, "Omg Joseph did you just duck for your life because of those girls over there? Please tell me you have to throw up and that's the reason, don't let the reason be because you are embarrassed of me," he laughed and said "Mom, are we out of the parking lot?" OMG, it was the reason.
When he got up, he was giggling, and so were my other 3 kids in the back. I said, "could it be Joseph? are you embarrassed to be with your mother on a Thursday night? Aren't I cool enough for you anymore?" He replied, "Mom, they go to my school." School? So?????? Who cares if they go to your school???
You guys don't understand...my son adored me! I was the cool mom, the mom that managed his hockey team, the mom that his friends all talked to, the woman that when he was 2, wanted to marry! That used to be me! What happened? Was I not cool anymore? This sort of thing didn't happen to me! Not me!
I began to tell him that I pulled the move a million times when I was a teenager, but that's because Nonna and Nonno were not cool like me. They were not cool parents, they were parents. Like the parents that people don't want to hang out with, the parent's that were annoying and strict and not fun, those kind of parents. Was that me?
I was so distraught about what had just happened that the next day while visiting Am, my sister, I repeated the story. My sister and her husband burst my bubble. I wasn't cool. I was his mom and no matter how cool I think I really am, i am not!
Life has a very funny way of working itself out. There is a saying in Italian that I will translate, "The wheel turns". Simple enough philosophy. We start off being the students, the ones that learn and listen. We take some pieces of knowledge and we grow. We go through stages and we transition into new ones. We never think that what we learned, what we did and how we behaved would transfer into our little offsprings; we were different, we were us, we were hip. Um, not so much!
I went from being someone's daughter to being someone's mother. I may think that I know it all, i am the coolest, most fashionable and most adorable mother, but guess what...I'm not! I guess I have to be ok with my new "role" of, not so cool mom, although I still have some cool days left with my little ones, but the fact remains, last Thursday, realization came into play.
Diana is not a cool mom, Diana is a mom that her son ducks down to hide from girls, and a mom that has changed her role. But you see, the wheel, it turns, and one day, my cool hand Joseph son will be driving his offspring to the nearest Tim Horton's coffee shop (yes they will still be around) and he will have that same gazed, confused look on his face when his child ducks and disappears in plain site, and when that happens, I guarantee you, he too will think, "What? I'm not cool?"
That's my peace today!
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Just keep swimming...
Over the weekend i took my kids to watch Finding Dory. It is the sequel to Finding Nemo. Which was one of my favourite movie of all time. The numbers at the box office were astounding, as everyone flocked to the big screen to watch it.
The movie was cute and funny (I won't ruin it for those who have yet to see it). I think Disney has a perfect way of creating wonderful messages for children to capture. The best part though, is that most of the time, the adults are the ones that take those messages and relate them to their own life and experiences.
I have been on this earth for quite some time now. I will not divulge, but i can hint that it is more than 25 and less than 100. :) And, in these many years of my life on this earth I have seen, lived and experienced quite a bit. Some things welcomed, and some, not so much.
Most of us talk about having children as being the pinnacle points in our lives, and for most of us, that holds true, but if i stop and think back to my younger years, I can tell you that i had lots of really important times in my life. Like getting my licence, that was a HUGE deal. It provided a freedom to me that I had never had before, it also came with the responsibility of being safe and paying attention to signs, I'm not going to lie, it was really scary! Then there was my choice of school. After high school I needed to decide who i was going to be for the rest of my life. Really? That's a huge deal, isn't it? I started off in one field and i ended up in a completely different one. I realized that my original choice wasn't for me so I didn't pause and cry, i just moved toward the area of study that was more like me. Which of course turned out to be talking, interviewing, and socializing in the broadcast world, not so terrible. :)
My point is, that in every stage my life was different and filled with different experiences. Very important decisions and choices. Along the way i met some really special people; people that have become very important to me in my adult life. There were also situations that happened to me that didn't feel great or hurt me at the time; and I lived those as well.
When I was little, my parents, like most parents, tried their best to protect me from the world. From all things evil, bad and scary. They did their best to shield me when i needed to be protected, and help me when I was in trouble. The one thing my parents did a great job of, was teaching me how to get up and shake it off. Whether it was from a fall off my bike or a fight with my friend or maybe not achieving what i expected. They didn't allow me to dwell. Instead, they decided to tell me that it was done and over and i need to be strong, move on and it will be ok!
I consider myself to be a logical person, a person that tries her best to live well and be well and love well. I am far from perfect. Anyone who knows me, knows i recognize, that me and perfect are most often, opposite. But i try my best to get up off the bike, rub the blood off my scrapes and get back on.
If we all gave up when it got hard, or when we fell would we ever accomplish what he have? Sometimes the hardest things have the most impact, on who we are and what we discover. I try to mimic my parents's philosophy of "suck it up butter cup", and sometimes i get scowls from my kids because they think I may be a bit harsh, ok, who am I kidding, most people think that sometimes I am a bit harsh. But my kids know that I am trying to teach them that life will get hard, not maybe, but it WILL get hard at times. There will be decisions that they will make that can greatly impact many years of their lives. They will fall and scrape their knees, they will fail at some things, and they will meet people that will intentionally hurt them. And when that happens, I hope and pray that they remember my words and my belief, like the ones my parents taught me.
Staying still when you are hurting or making a big decision to change something, may feel the most comfortable and less complicated, and I understand that. But if you try and get up and push through it, i promise you, that moving feels a lot better in the end. Move forward and be excited for the next day, the next moment and the next happy time. My kids will know that they can get up, move on and just keep swimming, just keep swimming, so they can have the opportunity to discover the world and all things wonderful.
that's my peace today!
The movie was cute and funny (I won't ruin it for those who have yet to see it). I think Disney has a perfect way of creating wonderful messages for children to capture. The best part though, is that most of the time, the adults are the ones that take those messages and relate them to their own life and experiences.
I have been on this earth for quite some time now. I will not divulge, but i can hint that it is more than 25 and less than 100. :) And, in these many years of my life on this earth I have seen, lived and experienced quite a bit. Some things welcomed, and some, not so much.
Most of us talk about having children as being the pinnacle points in our lives, and for most of us, that holds true, but if i stop and think back to my younger years, I can tell you that i had lots of really important times in my life. Like getting my licence, that was a HUGE deal. It provided a freedom to me that I had never had before, it also came with the responsibility of being safe and paying attention to signs, I'm not going to lie, it was really scary! Then there was my choice of school. After high school I needed to decide who i was going to be for the rest of my life. Really? That's a huge deal, isn't it? I started off in one field and i ended up in a completely different one. I realized that my original choice wasn't for me so I didn't pause and cry, i just moved toward the area of study that was more like me. Which of course turned out to be talking, interviewing, and socializing in the broadcast world, not so terrible. :)
My point is, that in every stage my life was different and filled with different experiences. Very important decisions and choices. Along the way i met some really special people; people that have become very important to me in my adult life. There were also situations that happened to me that didn't feel great or hurt me at the time; and I lived those as well.
When I was little, my parents, like most parents, tried their best to protect me from the world. From all things evil, bad and scary. They did their best to shield me when i needed to be protected, and help me when I was in trouble. The one thing my parents did a great job of, was teaching me how to get up and shake it off. Whether it was from a fall off my bike or a fight with my friend or maybe not achieving what i expected. They didn't allow me to dwell. Instead, they decided to tell me that it was done and over and i need to be strong, move on and it will be ok!
I consider myself to be a logical person, a person that tries her best to live well and be well and love well. I am far from perfect. Anyone who knows me, knows i recognize, that me and perfect are most often, opposite. But i try my best to get up off the bike, rub the blood off my scrapes and get back on.
If we all gave up when it got hard, or when we fell would we ever accomplish what he have? Sometimes the hardest things have the most impact, on who we are and what we discover. I try to mimic my parents's philosophy of "suck it up butter cup", and sometimes i get scowls from my kids because they think I may be a bit harsh, ok, who am I kidding, most people think that sometimes I am a bit harsh. But my kids know that I am trying to teach them that life will get hard, not maybe, but it WILL get hard at times. There will be decisions that they will make that can greatly impact many years of their lives. They will fall and scrape their knees, they will fail at some things, and they will meet people that will intentionally hurt them. And when that happens, I hope and pray that they remember my words and my belief, like the ones my parents taught me.
Staying still when you are hurting or making a big decision to change something, may feel the most comfortable and less complicated, and I understand that. But if you try and get up and push through it, i promise you, that moving feels a lot better in the end. Move forward and be excited for the next day, the next moment and the next happy time. My kids will know that they can get up, move on and just keep swimming, just keep swimming, so they can have the opportunity to discover the world and all things wonderful.
that's my peace today!
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
The value of life
We usually only talk about life and how precious it is after we hear something terrible or life altering that happened; an illness or someone who passed away too young, it is then that we take the time to reflect and think about our own lives and the true value of it.
Time is so precious, it is most often taken for granted and it is the most important thing we don't even own. We buy material items because it makes us feel important, it makes us look pretty and it makes us comfortable. Yes people, even 6 inch high heeled shoes make us "comfortable".
We fill our lives with things, items, objects. The latest purse, the hottest pair of shoes and the skinniest of skinniest pair of jeans. I am the first to admit that retail therapy feels damn good. I can just lose myself in a shoe store or a sale rack, and who the hell doesn't love to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon at Homesense??
Life is super stressful and we get mixed up in all the chaos. We go go go and we can't wait for the day to end, only to begin the same routine the next morning. Some of us work full time and have kids in activities, sports and of course homework; lots of it. We maybe take a couple of weeks a year vacationing with the family, spend some hours on the weekends visiting family and friends and then we have to clean the house, make the meals and do grocery shopping in between. Kids have to be showered, bedtime snacks, stories, and sleep time negotiations. I swear, my kids could negotiate with the government if they had a chance. (Who am I kidding, nobody can negotiate with the Canadian government).
My point is that we continue this fast paced cycle and it's not even because we want to, its because we think we have to. We maintain a life we consider to be the right one for our kids. We want to make our children's lives as fun filled, material filled and device filled as we possible can. Why? because they ask us. why do we do it? because we just do. Then something terrible happens, we hear tragic news about a loved one, or something that happened to someone else's child and we pause. We stop in our tracks. We cry and we ache for those parents. We ache for the families and we promise ourselves to never miss an opportunity to hug our kids and tell our parents we love them.
We then begin to talk about how precious life is. How we need to slow down and enjoy our children, because age 7 will never come around again, once they turn 8. We look at pictures of them when they were babies and ask ourselves how the time just went by so quickly. We pray that they will always be safe, happy and healthy. We realize then, how we should enjoy every day as much as we possibly can.
Life is precious and time should be treasured. We are gifts on this earth, we have purpose and meaning. We can treat it the same way we handle babies, puppies and children; with a smile, a soft embrace and protect it from all things evil. Handle it with care, smile at it everyday, laugh when you can make it laugh and always show love! For it is only then, we will truly be able to appreciate the value of life.
That's my peace today
Time is so precious, it is most often taken for granted and it is the most important thing we don't even own. We buy material items because it makes us feel important, it makes us look pretty and it makes us comfortable. Yes people, even 6 inch high heeled shoes make us "comfortable".
We fill our lives with things, items, objects. The latest purse, the hottest pair of shoes and the skinniest of skinniest pair of jeans. I am the first to admit that retail therapy feels damn good. I can just lose myself in a shoe store or a sale rack, and who the hell doesn't love to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon at Homesense??
Life is super stressful and we get mixed up in all the chaos. We go go go and we can't wait for the day to end, only to begin the same routine the next morning. Some of us work full time and have kids in activities, sports and of course homework; lots of it. We maybe take a couple of weeks a year vacationing with the family, spend some hours on the weekends visiting family and friends and then we have to clean the house, make the meals and do grocery shopping in between. Kids have to be showered, bedtime snacks, stories, and sleep time negotiations. I swear, my kids could negotiate with the government if they had a chance. (Who am I kidding, nobody can negotiate with the Canadian government).
My point is that we continue this fast paced cycle and it's not even because we want to, its because we think we have to. We maintain a life we consider to be the right one for our kids. We want to make our children's lives as fun filled, material filled and device filled as we possible can. Why? because they ask us. why do we do it? because we just do. Then something terrible happens, we hear tragic news about a loved one, or something that happened to someone else's child and we pause. We stop in our tracks. We cry and we ache for those parents. We ache for the families and we promise ourselves to never miss an opportunity to hug our kids and tell our parents we love them.
We then begin to talk about how precious life is. How we need to slow down and enjoy our children, because age 7 will never come around again, once they turn 8. We look at pictures of them when they were babies and ask ourselves how the time just went by so quickly. We pray that they will always be safe, happy and healthy. We realize then, how we should enjoy every day as much as we possibly can.
Life is precious and time should be treasured. We are gifts on this earth, we have purpose and meaning. We can treat it the same way we handle babies, puppies and children; with a smile, a soft embrace and protect it from all things evil. Handle it with care, smile at it everyday, laugh when you can make it laugh and always show love! For it is only then, we will truly be able to appreciate the value of life.
That's my peace today
Thursday, June 16, 2016
Hang on, it may just be a bumpy ride!
Life has a funny way of well, being life.
When we are little we were encouraged to roll with the punches, count every day as a blessing and thank the lord every night when we lay our tiny heads on our pillows at night.
As parents we try our hardest to protect our kids from just about everything! When they are newborns its about protecting them from germs so they don't catch a cold, when they are toddlers its about food and choking, and as teens, oh lord, its just about everything! Every street they cross and every person they will encounter, and of course, every picture they share on Instagram!
But as the days pass and the years go by, they learn. They learn that every single day is different and every new experience will make them into who they are. Its challenging though to teach them that. Humans tend to be most comfortable as status quo, stable, untouched and not shifted. Maybe we stay in the same home, at the same job or with the same hair style forever!
Change is scary, it is uncomfortable to most people, and it can actually bring on anxiety to some. But what I have learned over my years of growing up and especially while being a mom, is that without change we cannot grow. If we continue to be who we were without bringing forth our experiences then we would still be that 2 year old toddler that our mothers' protected from choking and drowning. If we choose to accept things just because they are easier, then we will never get to the place we were perhaps meant to be.
Recently I read the book The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, (I actually read it along side my 15 year old son). He had to read it for Grade 9 English class and I thought if I read it with him it would be easier for us to have discussions. I learned a lot by reading this book. Besides learning that a 15 year old doesn't think reading is actually a great pass time, I also learned about our personal journeys. I learned that we all have the opportunity to take a different the path, maybe even the one we were actually meant to follow so we can achieve our personal legend; the person that was placed on this earth.
The main character met people along the way, he opened his heart and his mind to their teachings. He trusted in his belief that the road (scary and challenging) was the road that would potentially bring him the most happiness. Not only was this story a great teaching for my 15 year old son, it also helped me gain perspective of lessons and teachings of others. The main character began to realize that sometimes the safe road is not always the best one. It may be for some, but definitely not for all. And to the ones that choose to take the road less traveled, the road with the scary encounters and questioning directions, it is ok, it is ok to want to go down that road.
Change is scary but it doesn't mean you wont adjust. It may take some time with every alteration you make, but eventually you adapt. We as humans become resilient to our choices, because it is those choices that make us who we were meant to be in the first place. And sometimes when you make changes in your life, those around you don't like it, it makes them feel uncomfortable and it makes them feel out of control. Sometimes people forget what they were taught when they were little; roll with the punches, count your blessings and thank the lord every night for life.
Live a great life, try and be the best person you can be. If that means to stay in that same home with that same haircut then so be it, but if it means something different to you, then so be that too!
Everyone has the right to foster their own legend and to pursue their own personal journey. Treasure and happiness means something different to all of us, make your own definition for both. Take what you learned from your own parents and teach it to your children. The great and fantastic part of that is that your children will hear it differently then how you said it, but that's ok because that is how they want to hear it. Love them, protect them and tell them that change is not bad, at times it is scary, but never let fear stop you from growing.
Life is wonderful and great, at the end, we need to be ok with every choice we have made in our lives. Never regret anything that made you smile. Even if it was a brown fringed suede jacket in Grade 8, if you liked it, then perfect! I hope we can all continue our journey to find our own personal legend, I hope that especially for my own children. And when they do, I will remind them to hang on tight, it may just be a bumpy ride!
That's my peace today!
When we are little we were encouraged to roll with the punches, count every day as a blessing and thank the lord every night when we lay our tiny heads on our pillows at night.
As parents we try our hardest to protect our kids from just about everything! When they are newborns its about protecting them from germs so they don't catch a cold, when they are toddlers its about food and choking, and as teens, oh lord, its just about everything! Every street they cross and every person they will encounter, and of course, every picture they share on Instagram!
But as the days pass and the years go by, they learn. They learn that every single day is different and every new experience will make them into who they are. Its challenging though to teach them that. Humans tend to be most comfortable as status quo, stable, untouched and not shifted. Maybe we stay in the same home, at the same job or with the same hair style forever!
Change is scary, it is uncomfortable to most people, and it can actually bring on anxiety to some. But what I have learned over my years of growing up and especially while being a mom, is that without change we cannot grow. If we continue to be who we were without bringing forth our experiences then we would still be that 2 year old toddler that our mothers' protected from choking and drowning. If we choose to accept things just because they are easier, then we will never get to the place we were perhaps meant to be.
Recently I read the book The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, (I actually read it along side my 15 year old son). He had to read it for Grade 9 English class and I thought if I read it with him it would be easier for us to have discussions. I learned a lot by reading this book. Besides learning that a 15 year old doesn't think reading is actually a great pass time, I also learned about our personal journeys. I learned that we all have the opportunity to take a different the path, maybe even the one we were actually meant to follow so we can achieve our personal legend; the person that was placed on this earth.
The main character met people along the way, he opened his heart and his mind to their teachings. He trusted in his belief that the road (scary and challenging) was the road that would potentially bring him the most happiness. Not only was this story a great teaching for my 15 year old son, it also helped me gain perspective of lessons and teachings of others. The main character began to realize that sometimes the safe road is not always the best one. It may be for some, but definitely not for all. And to the ones that choose to take the road less traveled, the road with the scary encounters and questioning directions, it is ok, it is ok to want to go down that road.
Change is scary but it doesn't mean you wont adjust. It may take some time with every alteration you make, but eventually you adapt. We as humans become resilient to our choices, because it is those choices that make us who we were meant to be in the first place. And sometimes when you make changes in your life, those around you don't like it, it makes them feel uncomfortable and it makes them feel out of control. Sometimes people forget what they were taught when they were little; roll with the punches, count your blessings and thank the lord every night for life.
Live a great life, try and be the best person you can be. If that means to stay in that same home with that same haircut then so be it, but if it means something different to you, then so be that too!
Everyone has the right to foster their own legend and to pursue their own personal journey. Treasure and happiness means something different to all of us, make your own definition for both. Take what you learned from your own parents and teach it to your children. The great and fantastic part of that is that your children will hear it differently then how you said it, but that's ok because that is how they want to hear it. Love them, protect them and tell them that change is not bad, at times it is scary, but never let fear stop you from growing.
Life is wonderful and great, at the end, we need to be ok with every choice we have made in our lives. Never regret anything that made you smile. Even if it was a brown fringed suede jacket in Grade 8, if you liked it, then perfect! I hope we can all continue our journey to find our own personal legend, I hope that especially for my own children. And when they do, I will remind them to hang on tight, it may just be a bumpy ride!
That's my peace today!
Monday, April 23, 2012
Time flies when you're having fun
Today my oldest child is 11 years old. I can't believe it. It feels like yesterday that I found out I was pregnant with him. It feels like just yesterday from the day I brought him home to start our new life together. It feels like just yesterday that he learned how to crawl, and walk and say "ma ma".
When I was growing up I remember my mother and my aunts always saying to me "Enjoy every stage of your life while you are living it, because it passes quickly." Ok maybe they didn't say it that refined, they most likely said it like "Jesus Murphy D, stop trying to act older than you are, because before you know it you will be old like us" ..lol. But their point was not taken because I thought they were lunatics. I thought they were old and that when I was their age, I would be waaaay cooler than them.
Well that time has come, and I am officially the age they were when they would tell me to enjoy my youth. Funny how life works. I find myself telling my daughter to enjoy being a little girl because when you become an adult there is no more excuses for being an idiot..lol. Don't get me wrong, there is no shortage of adults acting like idiots, but it's just not that tolerated after the age of 20.
I try to think back today on how young I was. How inexperienced I was about life and motherhood. I thought I had a plan on how life was going to be. I thought I knew everything about how to make my child behave, how to make my child eat healthy and how to make my child love school. I knew it all...except...I didn't know anything. See this is the crappy part about life. When we are young we are full of energy, full of life and we are also full of sh..t..lol. We know nothing about life. We know nothing about parenthood and we know nothing about almost everything. We look at our own parents and think we will do a way better job than they did.
Well now I fast forward to today. Today I think I know a little more than I did 11 years ago. Today I think I know that we can't "make" our kids love veggies. We can't "make" our kids love math homework. I learned that kids become who they were meant to become. They have their own personalities, they have their own likes and dislikes. I learned that even though I think I am "cool", my son may not share that perception of me..lol. I learned that I have become my mother. Yes, I am ok to accept that fact. (Even though Im still way cooler than her..lol).
11 years ago today I was a 26 year old girl who became a mother to a beautiful baby boy. I had fewer laugh lines, I had tighter thighs, and I had firmer breasts..lol. But 11 years ago I didn't know how to stop a bleeding nose, I didn't know how to bring down a rising fever, and I didn't know how to deal with my child asking me why I lied about telling him there is a Santa and a tooth fairy. Now...I am a pro..lol. At least I think I am?
I think I have learned a little along the way. I think I picked up some good tips and bad tips. Some good tricks and some pretty bad tricks. But the truth is, I am still learning every day. I still have time to learn the stuff that is coming my way. I have accepted the fact that my kids are growing up, and so am I.
The great part about life is that we don't even realize things are happening until they are gone. We don't realize all the lessons, all the wonderful things we are teaching our kids until we see them doing it. We don't realize that life's lessons are best learned when we don't see them. They are learned and remembered once they have passed and left a small imaginary imprint in our minds...we don't remember it at the time, because time flies when we are having fun!
That's my peace today!
Monday, March 26, 2012
Pictures last longer than a Gucci bag....don't they?
This past Friday my daughter celebrated her 8th birthday with all her little friends. We went to a place called Airbourne Trampoline. The kids jump and jump and jump until their hearts content. She invited almost all the girls in her class (it was a girls only party.lol) and a few cousins.
The girls had so much fun. Pictures were taken, food was eaten and cupcakes were devoured. All that was left after 2 hours of fun jumping was some food, drinks maybe a cupcake or 2 and well...the big fat bill. For the love of God and all his disciples....does it really cost that much money for an 8 year olds birthday party???? Well if you ask my mother, she would tell you...HELL NO! and let me tell you why...
I'm taking you back to 1982. When Bon Jovi just hit the music scene, Madonna was no longer the statue Italians had in their front yard...she was a new pop singer, and perms were the common request at the local "hairdressers". It was also the year I turned 8. (ok people do the math now to see how old I am:)) Anywho, picture this, October 11, 1982 in Woodbridge, Ontario. The home of Perry's grocery store and the 400 Drive inn. Life was much simpler then it is now. Cougar boots were the "in" thing and if you didn't have a pair of leg warmers..you couldn't even bother trying to fit in. Life was good. I was in grade 3 and learning multiplications was my biggest hurdle.
My 8th birthday was on a Monday and like always, I had to share it with a turkey. Like a real turkey, stuffing and all. My mother, like always, cooked for Thanksgiving and all my aunts and uncles and whatever cousins were born then came over. There was no invitations required; If you wanted to go to someone's house, you just showed up. You were always greeted with a smile and a shot of espresso. My mother made her own cake, dipped in a whole lot of rum and frosted with icing sugar and green food colouring. She put 8 candles on the home made cake, took a picture or 2 (that she developed a year later) and the night was over. If I was lucky, we were allowed to play in our grey cement basement, that had insulation popping out of the walls, and cement block walls. The night ended, everyone went home. I opened my cards that had $20 in them, I went to bed and the next day it was all over. Life moved on and I waited until 365 days were up to have that day over again.
Now let us fast forward to Friday night. My daughter's b-day. Prior to the day, I had to book the "party place" at least 1 month in advance because if I didn't, there would be nothing left and what would my poor child do if we couldn't find a place???? After I booked the location and left a $50 deposit, I went out to buy invitations that had to match the colour scheme of her cake and decorations. Then I waited for all the other moms to call and r.s.v.p for that day. I wrote down all their names so I knew how many "loot bags" I had to make and how much food I needed to order.
The day arrived, she was as excited as I was the day I turned 8. The only difference is that I partied with Zia Rita and Zia Lina. She was going to party with Isabella, Claudia and Elizabeth. Which I'm sure is way cooler than who I had. :) She went to school that day, she came home she picked her outfit and was ready for the party. She had noooo idea that I had been running around all day, picking up the overpriced cupcakes, the loot bags, and the food, drinks and snacks for the night.
6pm -8pm came and went so quickly. She had sooo much fun. She was so excited that she got to share her birthday with all her little friends. I took lots of pictures of the night. I handed out the loot bags, loaded the car with gifts and handed the girl at the counter my visa. I hid the receipt in my purse because my husband thinks I paid $50 for the entire trampoline rental...lol..and I left.
When I got home I thought about all the money, the stress and the work I had just put into this day. We had already celebrated the week before (on her real bday) with my family. This was just so she could celebrate with her friends. I know she's not the only one. I know this because the Sunday after her party, she had 2 birthday parties to attend. It's something that is now the birthday "norm". Why have we made this the norm? Do we think that if we don't have a party for our kids we are screwing them up? Or do we do it because we feel sorry for them? What the hell is there to feel sorry about??? How come our mothers didn't feel sorry for us? Feel sorry that we ripped our socks on the nails that were popping out of the untiled floors in our basement? or for the fact that we had to serve our uncles and grandparents lupini beans and biscotti on OUR birthday? They didn't feel sorry for us because there is nothing to feel sorry about. We have created this world of giving to our kids. Well I can tell you now, I want to take some advice from my mother on how to throw a party. I want to ask her how I was so happy on that day even though I didn't go to an overly booked, germ infested play place?? How mom? How?
My mother took pictures of my 8th birthday and I have them in an album that I look at once in a while. I am glad that she took those pictures because it is a reminder of my childhood and all the wonderful people who were in it. I too took some pictures of my daughter on that night at Airborne Trampoline. I just hope that one day she too can look back and appreciate that special night because the only thing that makes me feel better is knowing that pictures last longer than that Gucci bag I could have bought...don't they???
That's my peace today!
The girls had so much fun. Pictures were taken, food was eaten and cupcakes were devoured. All that was left after 2 hours of fun jumping was some food, drinks maybe a cupcake or 2 and well...the big fat bill. For the love of God and all his disciples....does it really cost that much money for an 8 year olds birthday party???? Well if you ask my mother, she would tell you...HELL NO! and let me tell you why...
I'm taking you back to 1982. When Bon Jovi just hit the music scene, Madonna was no longer the statue Italians had in their front yard...she was a new pop singer, and perms were the common request at the local "hairdressers". It was also the year I turned 8. (ok people do the math now to see how old I am:)) Anywho, picture this, October 11, 1982 in Woodbridge, Ontario. The home of Perry's grocery store and the 400 Drive inn. Life was much simpler then it is now. Cougar boots were the "in" thing and if you didn't have a pair of leg warmers..you couldn't even bother trying to fit in. Life was good. I was in grade 3 and learning multiplications was my biggest hurdle.
My 8th birthday was on a Monday and like always, I had to share it with a turkey. Like a real turkey, stuffing and all. My mother, like always, cooked for Thanksgiving and all my aunts and uncles and whatever cousins were born then came over. There was no invitations required; If you wanted to go to someone's house, you just showed up. You were always greeted with a smile and a shot of espresso. My mother made her own cake, dipped in a whole lot of rum and frosted with icing sugar and green food colouring. She put 8 candles on the home made cake, took a picture or 2 (that she developed a year later) and the night was over. If I was lucky, we were allowed to play in our grey cement basement, that had insulation popping out of the walls, and cement block walls. The night ended, everyone went home. I opened my cards that had $20 in them, I went to bed and the next day it was all over. Life moved on and I waited until 365 days were up to have that day over again.
Now let us fast forward to Friday night. My daughter's b-day. Prior to the day, I had to book the "party place" at least 1 month in advance because if I didn't, there would be nothing left and what would my poor child do if we couldn't find a place???? After I booked the location and left a $50 deposit, I went out to buy invitations that had to match the colour scheme of her cake and decorations. Then I waited for all the other moms to call and r.s.v.p for that day. I wrote down all their names so I knew how many "loot bags" I had to make and how much food I needed to order.
The day arrived, she was as excited as I was the day I turned 8. The only difference is that I partied with Zia Rita and Zia Lina. She was going to party with Isabella, Claudia and Elizabeth. Which I'm sure is way cooler than who I had. :) She went to school that day, she came home she picked her outfit and was ready for the party. She had noooo idea that I had been running around all day, picking up the overpriced cupcakes, the loot bags, and the food, drinks and snacks for the night.
6pm -8pm came and went so quickly. She had sooo much fun. She was so excited that she got to share her birthday with all her little friends. I took lots of pictures of the night. I handed out the loot bags, loaded the car with gifts and handed the girl at the counter my visa. I hid the receipt in my purse because my husband thinks I paid $50 for the entire trampoline rental...lol..and I left.
When I got home I thought about all the money, the stress and the work I had just put into this day. We had already celebrated the week before (on her real bday) with my family. This was just so she could celebrate with her friends. I know she's not the only one. I know this because the Sunday after her party, she had 2 birthday parties to attend. It's something that is now the birthday "norm". Why have we made this the norm? Do we think that if we don't have a party for our kids we are screwing them up? Or do we do it because we feel sorry for them? What the hell is there to feel sorry about??? How come our mothers didn't feel sorry for us? Feel sorry that we ripped our socks on the nails that were popping out of the untiled floors in our basement? or for the fact that we had to serve our uncles and grandparents lupini beans and biscotti on OUR birthday? They didn't feel sorry for us because there is nothing to feel sorry about. We have created this world of giving to our kids. Well I can tell you now, I want to take some advice from my mother on how to throw a party. I want to ask her how I was so happy on that day even though I didn't go to an overly booked, germ infested play place?? How mom? How?
My mother took pictures of my 8th birthday and I have them in an album that I look at once in a while. I am glad that she took those pictures because it is a reminder of my childhood and all the wonderful people who were in it. I too took some pictures of my daughter on that night at Airborne Trampoline. I just hope that one day she too can look back and appreciate that special night because the only thing that makes me feel better is knowing that pictures last longer than that Gucci bag I could have bought...don't they???
That's my peace today!
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Sweet Dreams
Dear sleep,
Remember me? Its Diana. I used to really enjoy you many years ago but somehow about 11 years ago that all changed and we lost touch. :( .I try to catch up with you but it's so hard because I am always so busy doing other things. I miss the nights when it was just you and me; alone in my bed. Now I have no time with you, and I feel when I do, I have to share you with others.
I was thinking of you this morning. I was thinking that's it time you and I meet up again. Maybe in the afternoon or maybe tonight. What do you say? Like old times.
11 years ago our relationship took a turn for the worst. I had to give you up, only seeing you 2 hours at a time. It was hard and I felt the distance. Since then I know you have tried to make a connection and I have been ignoring you. I want you to know, it's me it's not you. It is nothing you did. I really want to be with you again so please understand I am doing my best to have what we had so many years ago.
I know that I am not the only one who hasn't been seeing you lately. I have been talking to my friends and it seems they have lost touch with you too. They miss you, just as much as I do...trust me! I have friends that get to see you over and over again. Every night. They have you for a full 8 hours. I have to say, I am extremely jealous of the connection you have with them. I also have friends that see you in the day time! I cannot imagine it! How could you make time for them in the day?? Shame on you.
I have been asking around about you. You do get around, but for some reason you skip me? You are in my house every night. You and my husband have a very very strong bond! But it seems you do not like 3 year olds, and you don't particular care for mothers? Especially mothers with babies, and pregnant mother. You really hate pregnant mothers don't you?
Oh well, I know one day we will meet again. I am not sure when? I have heard that when my kids are teenagers I will connect with you even less because your friend named "Worry" will be keeping us apart. Then I heard that when I grow older,( like much older) your friend "Menopause" will be even worse than "Worry" I just hope one day you will see it in your heart to forgive me and welcome me back into your dreams. Maybe if you would spend less time with husbands, fathers, teenagers and single people you would have more time for us hard working, strong minded, matter of fact mothers.
I am leaving you some time to think about it. You don't have to give me an answer tonight, but in the near future (lets say maybe a few years from now) You and I can catch up on all that lost time. Although it will be short lived, if only for a few nights we can dance again in my bed. Until then, good night my friend Sleep, and sweet dreams.
Your friend,
"Get me some f""in sleep now or I think I am going to hang myself" Diana
Remember me? Its Diana. I used to really enjoy you many years ago but somehow about 11 years ago that all changed and we lost touch. :( .I try to catch up with you but it's so hard because I am always so busy doing other things. I miss the nights when it was just you and me; alone in my bed. Now I have no time with you, and I feel when I do, I have to share you with others.
I was thinking of you this morning. I was thinking that's it time you and I meet up again. Maybe in the afternoon or maybe tonight. What do you say? Like old times.
11 years ago our relationship took a turn for the worst. I had to give you up, only seeing you 2 hours at a time. It was hard and I felt the distance. Since then I know you have tried to make a connection and I have been ignoring you. I want you to know, it's me it's not you. It is nothing you did. I really want to be with you again so please understand I am doing my best to have what we had so many years ago.
I know that I am not the only one who hasn't been seeing you lately. I have been talking to my friends and it seems they have lost touch with you too. They miss you, just as much as I do...trust me! I have friends that get to see you over and over again. Every night. They have you for a full 8 hours. I have to say, I am extremely jealous of the connection you have with them. I also have friends that see you in the day time! I cannot imagine it! How could you make time for them in the day?? Shame on you.
I have been asking around about you. You do get around, but for some reason you skip me? You are in my house every night. You and my husband have a very very strong bond! But it seems you do not like 3 year olds, and you don't particular care for mothers? Especially mothers with babies, and pregnant mother. You really hate pregnant mothers don't you?
Oh well, I know one day we will meet again. I am not sure when? I have heard that when my kids are teenagers I will connect with you even less because your friend named "Worry" will be keeping us apart. Then I heard that when I grow older,( like much older) your friend "Menopause" will be even worse than "Worry" I just hope one day you will see it in your heart to forgive me and welcome me back into your dreams. Maybe if you would spend less time with husbands, fathers, teenagers and single people you would have more time for us hard working, strong minded, matter of fact mothers.
I am leaving you some time to think about it. You don't have to give me an answer tonight, but in the near future (lets say maybe a few years from now) You and I can catch up on all that lost time. Although it will be short lived, if only for a few nights we can dance again in my bed. Until then, good night my friend Sleep, and sweet dreams.
Your friend,
"Get me some f""in sleep now or I think I am going to hang myself" Diana
Monday, March 19, 2012
I wasn't as sick as you
Ok so I apologize that I have not written in almost 10 months, sorry life just happened. Funny though, I don't feel 10 months older :)...anywho, I just passed almost 2 weeks of virus hell, and it's still not over. We went for our yearly family trip to Florida and when we came back (I still felt like it wasn't really a vacation..and maybe that's because I went with the kids...and my husband. :)the virus' began.
Two days after we came back from our vacation my older son started. Fever, chills, sniffles, cough..you get my point. And because he is a "man in the making" all he did was moan and groan and cry and whine and whine and moan and groan, (well you get my point) for days. Don't get me wrong, I felt horrible for him. In fact I even slept in his bed at night to comfort him while he was up moaning and groaning and whining and crying. lol.
See when one of my kids get sick in the house I always cringe. I cringe because I know that all 4 will get whatever the first one brought home. But see where I cringe the most...is that I know that soon, along with my 4 children getting sick...so will my wonderful and ever so loving husband. If you are married then you totally understand what I am talking about.
The Nyquil brand produced a very smart commercial recently. "Pam...can you call my mom??" That was a brilliant commercial that spoke about the ever so popular "man cold". Anyway, so as I was saying...my husband was the second to get this virus. And for some very odd reason, I just didn't feel as sympathetic for him as I did for my 10 year old son..lol.
I guess it's because if you are anything like me, when you get sick you pop extra strength Tylenol, sip some Green Tea and get on with your day. You don't get to complain, you just do whatever it is you do.
So anyway, after a few nights of me sleeping in my sons bed, comforting him, taking his temperature, putting cold cloths on his forehead I felt very exhausted. But just the same, I went to work, came home, made dinner, cleaned the dishes, took my daughter to piano, and finally, I put all four children to bed. As my butt touched the couch I hear something from upstairs??? Thinking I am hearing things I continue to watch TV. Again hearing something...I finally press the mute button and then I hear it..my husbands' voice of panic for me to come upstairs. Well of course I got up quickly not knowing if it's one of my kids, did they fall off the bed? did one of them vomit? what the heck is going on?? As I get upstairs I go into my bedroom and ask my husband, "What is it? what happen? what's wrong?" He then says.."Oh please help me...I think I am going to die"...LOL...LOL....except I didn't feel like laughing then, I actually felt like slowly placing the big heavy down filled pillow over his nasal passage...lol..but I knew that would only cause more problems..lol..so instead I did what Jesus would do........I told him he wasn't going to die because he still had to stay alive to witness the wonderful years of teenage life with our kids because I wasn't going through that alone, and then I told him he had the flu and it was probably more likely than not, it would go away, and then I marched downstairs boiled some water and put a Neo Citron packet in a mug and brought it upstairs to his helpless body. I then said "Goodnight" closed the door to our room and went to sleep in the spare bed.
The next morning I went to check on my "Woodbridge Patient" and he was feeling much better. He was so thankful that God allowed him to live..lol...(ok maybe I am exaggerating a little). He then noticed me grabbing a tissue and blowing my nose. He turned to me and asked in a very sincere tone, he asked, "Oh no, are you getting sick too?" I smiled, turned my head and said, "Honey, I have been sick for 3 days already..I am actually getting better." He looked at me very confused? How could I have been sick and not know it? And anyone who has a husband can all the say the same response...."Honey that's because, I wasn't as sick as you."
Two days after we came back from our vacation my older son started. Fever, chills, sniffles, cough..you get my point. And because he is a "man in the making" all he did was moan and groan and cry and whine and whine and moan and groan, (well you get my point) for days. Don't get me wrong, I felt horrible for him. In fact I even slept in his bed at night to comfort him while he was up moaning and groaning and whining and crying. lol.
See when one of my kids get sick in the house I always cringe. I cringe because I know that all 4 will get whatever the first one brought home. But see where I cringe the most...is that I know that soon, along with my 4 children getting sick...so will my wonderful and ever so loving husband. If you are married then you totally understand what I am talking about.
The Nyquil brand produced a very smart commercial recently. "Pam...can you call my mom??" That was a brilliant commercial that spoke about the ever so popular "man cold". Anyway, so as I was saying...my husband was the second to get this virus. And for some very odd reason, I just didn't feel as sympathetic for him as I did for my 10 year old son..lol.
I guess it's because if you are anything like me, when you get sick you pop extra strength Tylenol, sip some Green Tea and get on with your day. You don't get to complain, you just do whatever it is you do.
So anyway, after a few nights of me sleeping in my sons bed, comforting him, taking his temperature, putting cold cloths on his forehead I felt very exhausted. But just the same, I went to work, came home, made dinner, cleaned the dishes, took my daughter to piano, and finally, I put all four children to bed. As my butt touched the couch I hear something from upstairs??? Thinking I am hearing things I continue to watch TV. Again hearing something...I finally press the mute button and then I hear it..my husbands' voice of panic for me to come upstairs. Well of course I got up quickly not knowing if it's one of my kids, did they fall off the bed? did one of them vomit? what the heck is going on?? As I get upstairs I go into my bedroom and ask my husband, "What is it? what happen? what's wrong?" He then says.."Oh please help me...I think I am going to die"...LOL...LOL....except I didn't feel like laughing then, I actually felt like slowly placing the big heavy down filled pillow over his nasal passage...lol..but I knew that would only cause more problems..lol..so instead I did what Jesus would do........I told him he wasn't going to die because he still had to stay alive to witness the wonderful years of teenage life with our kids because I wasn't going through that alone, and then I told him he had the flu and it was probably more likely than not, it would go away, and then I marched downstairs boiled some water and put a Neo Citron packet in a mug and brought it upstairs to his helpless body. I then said "Goodnight" closed the door to our room and went to sleep in the spare bed.
The next morning I went to check on my "Woodbridge Patient" and he was feeling much better. He was so thankful that God allowed him to live..lol...(ok maybe I am exaggerating a little). He then noticed me grabbing a tissue and blowing my nose. He turned to me and asked in a very sincere tone, he asked, "Oh no, are you getting sick too?" I smiled, turned my head and said, "Honey, I have been sick for 3 days already..I am actually getting better." He looked at me very confused? How could I have been sick and not know it? And anyone who has a husband can all the say the same response...."Honey that's because, I wasn't as sick as you."
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Life is what you make it
I have not written in a while. I can say that it's because I am busy, I can say that is because I had nothing to say (ya right..lol) or I can say it's because I didn't really feel like it? I am not sure why, but I am writing today.
Lately, or maybe not only lately. Maybe always and every day, I have been hearing bad things. So and so is sick, so and so got divorced, so and so said you are a bitch (you get the point)...and to be quite honest, i don't want to hear that stuff anymore. I think I have reached a point in my life where I just want to hear all the happy things that life has to offer. I have reached a stage in my life where it's not ok to purposely hurt another person's feelings. I don't like the feeling it gives me. I feel so much better when I see people happy and smiling (ok maybe not on my PMS days....bc those days I can just rip someone's eyeballs out..LOL). No, but seriously, isn't life too short to be angry?
Over the past few months , there have been several people that I know or that someone in my family knows, that has fallen ill. It is so sad, it is so horrible. But I have decided (although I pray for the families), I am choosing not to dwell on these things that we have no control over. "One sunny day erases 10 days of rain". This is so true. Think about how happy people are when the sun is shining and people are out walking and playing. This is what life should be all about, or at least..what we should want it to be about.
I am not naive enough to think that there will be never be sorrow, or that emotional pain can be far worse than physical pain, but for right now, and for today, I choose to be happy. I choose to do things that make me happy. I choose to be surrounded by people that are happy in their own lives.
There is far too much sadness in this world. There is far too much hatred in the world. There are far too many things in this world that are unfair. We watch the news, only to feel horrible. Kids getting hurt; countries getting bombed; the food we eat being recalled for dangerous bacteria. I am not saying we should not keep in touch with current events, I am just saying we should just keep them at arms' length and embrace the funny, happy, feel good stories. It just feels so much better.
We are all part of this race. We all begin at the "Start" line and we all end at the "Finish" line. Some people think that it doesn't matter how fast you run in the race, or how many times you fall in the race, or if you helped some other runner when they fell down in the race. But I think it does matter. I think it matters how many times you fell, because it felt all that better when you got up, I think it does matter if you cried the whole time running, or if you were too busy being angry the whole race. It matters.
When we die we leave a legacy. We leave an impression. We leave a history. A path that may be invisible to our eyes, but bold in the minds of all the people we love. We will be remembered by them for all the times they saw us laugh, and for all the times they made us laugh. And for all the times that we made that extra little effort to show them we loved them. This is what they will see and what they will remember.
In the past few weeks, my extended family have lost loved ones, and I know that the people left behind, are holding onto to all the wonderful moments that were shared on their run in the race. All the important days that were shared. They are holding onto all the things that made them smile. They are holding onto all the happy times and important times that made their lives so full filled. They remember the parts in the race that made it feel like time went by so quickly, because it was so special. These are the moments that are forever cherished and remembered. This I promise you.
I hope for myself, all my beautiful friends and of course.... my beautiful children, that we live a long, long, long life. I also hope for everyone, that we live a life full of love, a life filled with laughter, and a life filled with lots and lots of smiles. Because, life my friends...is what you make it.
That's my peace today!
Pickled Asparagus
2 bunches extra thin asparagus
1 part vinegar
2 part water
salt
3/4 c olive oil
3 cloves chopped up garlic
salt
Remove hard ends from asparagus, measure 1 cup vinegar, 2 cups water. Add to pot with asapagus. bring to a boil, salt water. Drain and dry completely on cloth. Meanwhile in a large bowl mix, mix oil, salt and garlic. Toss asparagus in oil and refridgerate.
Lately, or maybe not only lately. Maybe always and every day, I have been hearing bad things. So and so is sick, so and so got divorced, so and so said you are a bitch (you get the point)...and to be quite honest, i don't want to hear that stuff anymore. I think I have reached a point in my life where I just want to hear all the happy things that life has to offer. I have reached a stage in my life where it's not ok to purposely hurt another person's feelings. I don't like the feeling it gives me. I feel so much better when I see people happy and smiling (ok maybe not on my PMS days....bc those days I can just rip someone's eyeballs out..LOL). No, but seriously, isn't life too short to be angry?
Over the past few months , there have been several people that I know or that someone in my family knows, that has fallen ill. It is so sad, it is so horrible. But I have decided (although I pray for the families), I am choosing not to dwell on these things that we have no control over. "One sunny day erases 10 days of rain". This is so true. Think about how happy people are when the sun is shining and people are out walking and playing. This is what life should be all about, or at least..what we should want it to be about.
I am not naive enough to think that there will be never be sorrow, or that emotional pain can be far worse than physical pain, but for right now, and for today, I choose to be happy. I choose to do things that make me happy. I choose to be surrounded by people that are happy in their own lives.
There is far too much sadness in this world. There is far too much hatred in the world. There are far too many things in this world that are unfair. We watch the news, only to feel horrible. Kids getting hurt; countries getting bombed; the food we eat being recalled for dangerous bacteria. I am not saying we should not keep in touch with current events, I am just saying we should just keep them at arms' length and embrace the funny, happy, feel good stories. It just feels so much better.
We are all part of this race. We all begin at the "Start" line and we all end at the "Finish" line. Some people think that it doesn't matter how fast you run in the race, or how many times you fall in the race, or if you helped some other runner when they fell down in the race. But I think it does matter. I think it matters how many times you fell, because it felt all that better when you got up, I think it does matter if you cried the whole time running, or if you were too busy being angry the whole race. It matters.
When we die we leave a legacy. We leave an impression. We leave a history. A path that may be invisible to our eyes, but bold in the minds of all the people we love. We will be remembered by them for all the times they saw us laugh, and for all the times they made us laugh. And for all the times that we made that extra little effort to show them we loved them. This is what they will see and what they will remember.
In the past few weeks, my extended family have lost loved ones, and I know that the people left behind, are holding onto to all the wonderful moments that were shared on their run in the race. All the important days that were shared. They are holding onto all the things that made them smile. They are holding onto all the happy times and important times that made their lives so full filled. They remember the parts in the race that made it feel like time went by so quickly, because it was so special. These are the moments that are forever cherished and remembered. This I promise you.
I hope for myself, all my beautiful friends and of course.... my beautiful children, that we live a long, long, long life. I also hope for everyone, that we live a life full of love, a life filled with laughter, and a life filled with lots and lots of smiles. Because, life my friends...is what you make it.
That's my peace today!
Pickled Asparagus
2 bunches extra thin asparagus
1 part vinegar
2 part water
salt
3/4 c olive oil
3 cloves chopped up garlic
salt
Remove hard ends from asparagus, measure 1 cup vinegar, 2 cups water. Add to pot with asapagus. bring to a boil, salt water. Drain and dry completely on cloth. Meanwhile in a large bowl mix, mix oil, salt and garlic. Toss asparagus in oil and refridgerate.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Take the pickle out...once in a while!
We just came back from a wonderful family vacation in Florida. We really needed the get away from the winter weather and the stress of home. We had not been away since before the twins were born, so it was a well deserved venture.
We booked the trip a month in advance so it was quite the wait for us and the kids. Finally the day arrived and we were ready to part from the cold Toronto weather. I was a little nervous because I do not love to fly, in fact, I hate to fly. The kids were all ready to go and so were we. I was wondering how the twins would behave on the plane because it was their first time.
We board the plane and it was packed! There was not 1 seat available. We went to our designated seats and I was sitting next to my 2 daughters and the boys were sitting next to Franco. I bought headphones for the kids to use when they wanted to watch the in flight movies. The first hour went by without a hitch. The kids were good and quiet. After the second hour, Jenna began getting antsy and she wanted out. She wanted out of her chair, out of her section, and out of the airplane. I didn't think that was a good idea.lol. She is 2 1/2 years old. She is at the age where she kind of understands, but she does not quite understand the threats like the older ones do.lol.
I tried very hard to keep her calm. I tried very hard to keep her quiet. I tried very hard to keep her still...FAIL...FAIL...FAIL. Nothing was working. People around us began to get agitated. Some smiled and understood, and others...not so much. The people in front of us were visibly annoyed with this little toddler of mine. I kept apologizing but they were not being receptive. After a little while, the flight attendant came up to us and tried to talk to Jenna..lol..Negative. She just looked at her and continued to squirm out of her chair. I was embarrassed on one end, and livid on the other. I turned behind to look at my husband for help, he barely knew what was going on because he had the head phones on and was watching the same movie as my 2 boys were..lol.. great!
It was almost 730pm and this was normally Jenna's bedtime so she was just cranky and tired. After some begging, smiling, and passing off candy to her she calmed down and she eventually fell asleep. Phew. We landed at 830pm and she was as happy as she is the moment she wakes up. On the way back we left at an earlier time in the day so she was calm, happy and excited to be flying in the air again.
I am sure many parents have had stressful times like these before. You become so desperate to calm your children down that you forget how angry you are that these "people" are being so mean and uncompassionate. If you are a parent then you should try to remember a time that your toddler had a rough time calming down. I can understand if it was my 9 year old son. He is totally capable of knowing good behaviour from bad.
A few days after I came back from my trip, I was having lunch with some colleagues of mine. We were at a Japanese restaurant discussing some work stuff. As we were speaking we kept getting disrupted by this screaming young child across the way from us. A couple of my coworkers began showing their dismay with this screaming toddler. I carried on the conversation like normal (maybe I am just so conditioned to noise, I now drown it out..lol) We kind of just smirked and figured this child is its mother's problem, not ours.
As we were eating lunch, I couldn't help but hear 2 women talking at another table about this child who was clearly not happy. They were going on and on about how kids should behave and how parents should discipline their children and so on and so on. Then they carried on to talk about how kids should be seen and not heard and just going on and on and on. A part of me was biting my tongue trying my darn best not to speak, but the part of me that just went through the judgmental stares I had just experienced days before on my plane ride to Florida, was bursting at the seams. This child was a small 18 mth old little girl. Her mother was trying her best to calm her down and to figure out what was bothering her. I sympathised with this woman because I understand how stressful a situation like this one can be.
I couldn't take it any longer, I had to speak. I turned around to the 2 women. 1 of the women looked like she was just out of high school, and the other looked like she had something stuck up her a-hole. I calmly looked at these judgemental women, I smiled and I said, "I know it kind of sucks having to listen to the screaming child, but instead of talking about this mother, or her "bad" child, maybe you can try to put yourself in her position and how hard it is for her right now ." I calmly turned back around, got my coat and I left. but Not before I walked up to the mother with her child, that she had now calmed down, and said to her, "I know how you feel..it's ok eventually they grow up and leave us" She laughed, I laughed and I know at that moment she felt better.
In life, we decide that judging people is easier to do than helping them. How is it any different if that women would have fallen and asked someone to help her up? Half the time we get stressed in a situation like that because we feel nervous at what others may think of us, or our children.
A child that is having a bad moment is not a bad child. A child that is having a small tantrum in a public place, is not a bad child. A mother who is having a hard moment with her child, is not a bad mother. A mother who is having a hard time calming her child that is having a tantrum, is not a bad mother. She is just trying her best to go through the little bumps and turns on the journey of motherhood. She is just hoping that other mothers will be understanding and sympathetic, and she is just wishing that people would help, more than they judge, and to maybe take that pickle out of their a** ,once in a while!
That's my peace today!
I thought this recipe was suited for the blog..lol
Jarred Pickles
Baby cucumbers (however many you want to make...1/2 bushel makes 10 jars)
Pickled salt
garlic pieces
bunches of fresh dill
Scrub pickles with a brush. Keep overnight in cold water. In a large pot, boil 4 cups water with 2 cups vinigar, add 10 tablespoons of pickling salt (you will need more if you are doing 10 jars so just keep adding evenly)
Sterilize Mason jar and fill with dry pickles, pieces of garlic and bunches of dill. Add boiling water mixture to the jars and seal tightly. Pickles are ready after about a month. (make sure the lids pop once they are sealed for a few minutes)
We booked the trip a month in advance so it was quite the wait for us and the kids. Finally the day arrived and we were ready to part from the cold Toronto weather. I was a little nervous because I do not love to fly, in fact, I hate to fly. The kids were all ready to go and so were we. I was wondering how the twins would behave on the plane because it was their first time.
We board the plane and it was packed! There was not 1 seat available. We went to our designated seats and I was sitting next to my 2 daughters and the boys were sitting next to Franco. I bought headphones for the kids to use when they wanted to watch the in flight movies. The first hour went by without a hitch. The kids were good and quiet. After the second hour, Jenna began getting antsy and she wanted out. She wanted out of her chair, out of her section, and out of the airplane. I didn't think that was a good idea.lol. She is 2 1/2 years old. She is at the age where she kind of understands, but she does not quite understand the threats like the older ones do.lol.
I tried very hard to keep her calm. I tried very hard to keep her quiet. I tried very hard to keep her still...FAIL...FAIL...FAIL. Nothing was working. People around us began to get agitated. Some smiled and understood, and others...not so much. The people in front of us were visibly annoyed with this little toddler of mine. I kept apologizing but they were not being receptive. After a little while, the flight attendant came up to us and tried to talk to Jenna..lol..Negative. She just looked at her and continued to squirm out of her chair. I was embarrassed on one end, and livid on the other. I turned behind to look at my husband for help, he barely knew what was going on because he had the head phones on and was watching the same movie as my 2 boys were..lol.. great!
It was almost 730pm and this was normally Jenna's bedtime so she was just cranky and tired. After some begging, smiling, and passing off candy to her she calmed down and she eventually fell asleep. Phew. We landed at 830pm and she was as happy as she is the moment she wakes up. On the way back we left at an earlier time in the day so she was calm, happy and excited to be flying in the air again.
I am sure many parents have had stressful times like these before. You become so desperate to calm your children down that you forget how angry you are that these "people" are being so mean and uncompassionate. If you are a parent then you should try to remember a time that your toddler had a rough time calming down. I can understand if it was my 9 year old son. He is totally capable of knowing good behaviour from bad.
A few days after I came back from my trip, I was having lunch with some colleagues of mine. We were at a Japanese restaurant discussing some work stuff. As we were speaking we kept getting disrupted by this screaming young child across the way from us. A couple of my coworkers began showing their dismay with this screaming toddler. I carried on the conversation like normal (maybe I am just so conditioned to noise, I now drown it out..lol) We kind of just smirked and figured this child is its mother's problem, not ours.
As we were eating lunch, I couldn't help but hear 2 women talking at another table about this child who was clearly not happy. They were going on and on about how kids should behave and how parents should discipline their children and so on and so on. Then they carried on to talk about how kids should be seen and not heard and just going on and on and on. A part of me was biting my tongue trying my darn best not to speak, but the part of me that just went through the judgmental stares I had just experienced days before on my plane ride to Florida, was bursting at the seams. This child was a small 18 mth old little girl. Her mother was trying her best to calm her down and to figure out what was bothering her. I sympathised with this woman because I understand how stressful a situation like this one can be.
I couldn't take it any longer, I had to speak. I turned around to the 2 women. 1 of the women looked like she was just out of high school, and the other looked like she had something stuck up her a-hole. I calmly looked at these judgemental women, I smiled and I said, "I know it kind of sucks having to listen to the screaming child, but instead of talking about this mother, or her "bad" child, maybe you can try to put yourself in her position and how hard it is for her right now ." I calmly turned back around, got my coat and I left. but Not before I walked up to the mother with her child, that she had now calmed down, and said to her, "I know how you feel..it's ok eventually they grow up and leave us" She laughed, I laughed and I know at that moment she felt better.
In life, we decide that judging people is easier to do than helping them. How is it any different if that women would have fallen and asked someone to help her up? Half the time we get stressed in a situation like that because we feel nervous at what others may think of us, or our children.
A child that is having a bad moment is not a bad child. A child that is having a small tantrum in a public place, is not a bad child. A mother who is having a hard moment with her child, is not a bad mother. A mother who is having a hard time calming her child that is having a tantrum, is not a bad mother. She is just trying her best to go through the little bumps and turns on the journey of motherhood. She is just hoping that other mothers will be understanding and sympathetic, and she is just wishing that people would help, more than they judge, and to maybe take that pickle out of their a** ,once in a while!
That's my peace today!
I thought this recipe was suited for the blog..lol
Jarred Pickles
Baby cucumbers (however many you want to make...1/2 bushel makes 10 jars)
Pickled salt
garlic pieces
bunches of fresh dill
Scrub pickles with a brush. Keep overnight in cold water. In a large pot, boil 4 cups water with 2 cups vinigar, add 10 tablespoons of pickling salt (you will need more if you are doing 10 jars so just keep adding evenly)
Sterilize Mason jar and fill with dry pickles, pieces of garlic and bunches of dill. Add boiling water mixture to the jars and seal tightly. Pickles are ready after about a month. (make sure the lids pop once they are sealed for a few minutes)
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
"No...MY MA MA"
When I had my first child it was me and him against the world. He was my frick and I was his frack. I would watch him breathe at night and just stare at him while he was playing or watching tv. I think it took me a whole year to fully believe he was my child. He was the most perfect little baby boy any mother could have hoped for. I wanted to enjoy him as much as I could, so my husband and I decided to wait a little while before we had another baby.
After 3 years, we welcomed our precious daughter. It was also the most amazing feeling to me because I always wanted a daughter and I had been blessed with one. Once she came into our family, the dynamics automatically changed. I now had to split my time into 3; my 2 kids and my husband (there was never time for me anymore).
For a while we were on the fence about having any more kids so we waited, and waited, and finally after 3 years we decided it was time. If we wanted a third it had to be done. Well as you all know, we were surprisingly blessed with twins. If you can ever imagine a life changing event, it was that. As precious and miraculous as they were, it was a lot of extra work. I think I cried every day for the first year of their life. That is not because I wasn’t happy, but because I was overwhelmed. I remember a time when I first got home from the hospital, Joseph was 7 and I still helped him shower. I was washing him and I suddenly began to cry, and I mean hysterically. He looked at me and asked, “Mommy, what’s wrong?” I answered with my very sensitive hormones, “Nothing Joseph, I just miss our old family.” I know that may sound horrible now when I write it, but at the time I felt like I had caused a tornado in the family by having 2 more children. I can now see that it was obviously my hormones overplaying that day, but let me tell you, I had many of those days.
One thing I have learned over the years is, never judge or question a mother the first 3 weeks of her babies’ life, she goes a little coo coo for a bit, but eventually she comes back. After almost 10 years of being a mother I have also realized that the saying, “You cannot please the people all the time” rings true to a mother. No matter if you think you are doing your best and giving your all to each child you have, they may sometimes feel like you are not.
I see it in my adult life. I have 3 sisters. Although it is the most wonderful blessing any girl can have, it may also be a small battle for our mother. She tries her best to “hang” out with us as much as she can. But because we all adore her and want her around, by the time she makes her rounds we want her again..lol.
I know sometimes my kids feel like I can’t always listen to them whole heartedly, or that I can’t spend 100% of my time with only them, but I try. Sometimes they get frustrated and blurt out things like, “You are always playing with Joseph” or “You are always going out with Maria-Alicia”. It hurts, but I try to explain to them that they may have to share me, but they are blessed with the most priceless gift in the world of siblings. They sometimes don’t buy it, but I have to vocalize it. Now my little twins are starting too. I feel bad sometimes. I mean, if you think about it, they had to share a womb, share a birth canal, they then shared a crib and they share a very important day; their birthday.
Although they look for each other if the other is not there, and they wake each other up every morning, I know that sometimes they want all of my attention. They are getting older and they need a lot more from me every day. They are growing into little people, with little minds, thoughts, and wants. About a month ago they started this thing that they each climb on me, try to push the other off and tell each other that I am their ma ma. It is quite funny and cute, but sometimes when I want to feel depressed lol, I feel bad for them that they have to always share me. The older ones began joining in too now. All 4 of my kids are their own people, with their own dreams, their own likes, and their own dislikes. But sometimes I feel like I can’t give them as much love and attention as they may need.
Being a mother is not an easy job. It is not a fair job either. Our kids need us a lot while they are growing into people. They need us to teach them, to guide them and to help them make the right choices. I know that having 4 children is a blessing and I would never change it for anything (not even an encounter with Jon Bon..lol) but sometimes the human part of me, the mother part of me, the guilty part of me, wants so badly to be able to give my kids equal amounts of my time. But I know it’s not always realistic. I know that I try my best to be the best to each of them, just like my own mother does. I know one day they will somehow try to blame me for something I didn’t do right, like we do to our mother..lol..but it’s ok, I’m prepared for it. I guess for now, instead of feeling bad when they jump on me, pushing the other one off of me, I will just smile when they scream out to each other, “No...MY MA MA” Because I will know that any mother will feel so blessed to be so loved.
That’s my peace today!
Beef broth with Vegtables
1 osso bucco
1/2 cup peeled squash
1 sweet potato
2 peeled carrots
1 peeled white onion
1/2 cup parsley
1 whole tomatoe
2 stalks celery
salt to taste
In a large pot, fill with water, add beef and boil for 2o minutes. With a mesh laddle, remove all the fat from the water. Add all the vegies and salt. Boil for 1 hour on med high. Serve with cooked small pasta.
After 3 years, we welcomed our precious daughter. It was also the most amazing feeling to me because I always wanted a daughter and I had been blessed with one. Once she came into our family, the dynamics automatically changed. I now had to split my time into 3; my 2 kids and my husband (there was never time for me anymore).
For a while we were on the fence about having any more kids so we waited, and waited, and finally after 3 years we decided it was time. If we wanted a third it had to be done. Well as you all know, we were surprisingly blessed with twins. If you can ever imagine a life changing event, it was that. As precious and miraculous as they were, it was a lot of extra work. I think I cried every day for the first year of their life. That is not because I wasn’t happy, but because I was overwhelmed. I remember a time when I first got home from the hospital, Joseph was 7 and I still helped him shower. I was washing him and I suddenly began to cry, and I mean hysterically. He looked at me and asked, “Mommy, what’s wrong?” I answered with my very sensitive hormones, “Nothing Joseph, I just miss our old family.” I know that may sound horrible now when I write it, but at the time I felt like I had caused a tornado in the family by having 2 more children. I can now see that it was obviously my hormones overplaying that day, but let me tell you, I had many of those days.
One thing I have learned over the years is, never judge or question a mother the first 3 weeks of her babies’ life, she goes a little coo coo for a bit, but eventually she comes back. After almost 10 years of being a mother I have also realized that the saying, “You cannot please the people all the time” rings true to a mother. No matter if you think you are doing your best and giving your all to each child you have, they may sometimes feel like you are not.
I see it in my adult life. I have 3 sisters. Although it is the most wonderful blessing any girl can have, it may also be a small battle for our mother. She tries her best to “hang” out with us as much as she can. But because we all adore her and want her around, by the time she makes her rounds we want her again..lol.
I know sometimes my kids feel like I can’t always listen to them whole heartedly, or that I can’t spend 100% of my time with only them, but I try. Sometimes they get frustrated and blurt out things like, “You are always playing with Joseph” or “You are always going out with Maria-Alicia”. It hurts, but I try to explain to them that they may have to share me, but they are blessed with the most priceless gift in the world of siblings. They sometimes don’t buy it, but I have to vocalize it. Now my little twins are starting too. I feel bad sometimes. I mean, if you think about it, they had to share a womb, share a birth canal, they then shared a crib and they share a very important day; their birthday.
Although they look for each other if the other is not there, and they wake each other up every morning, I know that sometimes they want all of my attention. They are getting older and they need a lot more from me every day. They are growing into little people, with little minds, thoughts, and wants. About a month ago they started this thing that they each climb on me, try to push the other off and tell each other that I am their ma ma. It is quite funny and cute, but sometimes when I want to feel depressed lol, I feel bad for them that they have to always share me. The older ones began joining in too now. All 4 of my kids are their own people, with their own dreams, their own likes, and their own dislikes. But sometimes I feel like I can’t give them as much love and attention as they may need.
Being a mother is not an easy job. It is not a fair job either. Our kids need us a lot while they are growing into people. They need us to teach them, to guide them and to help them make the right choices. I know that having 4 children is a blessing and I would never change it for anything (not even an encounter with Jon Bon..lol) but sometimes the human part of me, the mother part of me, the guilty part of me, wants so badly to be able to give my kids equal amounts of my time. But I know it’s not always realistic. I know that I try my best to be the best to each of them, just like my own mother does. I know one day they will somehow try to blame me for something I didn’t do right, like we do to our mother..lol..but it’s ok, I’m prepared for it. I guess for now, instead of feeling bad when they jump on me, pushing the other one off of me, I will just smile when they scream out to each other, “No...MY MA MA” Because I will know that any mother will feel so blessed to be so loved.
That’s my peace today!
Beef broth with Vegtables
1 osso bucco
1/2 cup peeled squash
1 sweet potato
2 peeled carrots
1 peeled white onion
1/2 cup parsley
1 whole tomatoe
2 stalks celery
salt to taste
In a large pot, fill with water, add beef and boil for 2o minutes. With a mesh laddle, remove all the fat from the water. Add all the vegies and salt. Boil for 1 hour on med high. Serve with cooked small pasta.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
One "Sick" Day
Sometimes in life there are moments that happen that will be cherished forever. Sometimes these moments are planned, and sometimes they are not. Back in November I came across an ad in the Sportcheck flyer and it read, “Maple Leafs Sports Clinics” goalie camp with Leafs goalie JS Giguere. It caught my attention because as you all know, my son is a goalie and he absolutely loves the Leafs. I went online, read a little bit about the day and voila..Registered my little Joseph.
There are not too many times you can get opportunities like this. It was a 4 hour day planned. On Ice training and off ice training. He would get one of his on ice trainings with Giguere himself. There would only be 20 kids per group so I thought it seemed pretty reasonable. My husband and I surprised Joseph with the news and he was so excited but he had to wait over a month for the day to arrive.
On December 12, the day finally arrived. He woke up very excited and he was getting ready to go. I think he was a little nervous because he was quiet and that is not like Joseph to be quiet. My sister Nancy decided she would join us because my husband could not make it, he was busy at work. We packed his bag and we were on our way. It was raining the whole way, and he was silent the whole time.
When we got there, there were dozens of little boys (and a few girls) all waiting for instructions and the day’s agenda. They had lunch first, and then they went on the ice for their first round of training. After an hour, they undressed and went to the off- ice training. When they were done that, they got dressed again to go out on the ice. But this time, they were going to be on the ice with Stanley Cup champion Jean Sebastian Giguere.
The kids were as excited as they were nervous. They make their way out there and they wait for the buzzer to go off. The group before them exits the ice, and then they enter. They all gather in the centre of the ice where the organizer gives them a positive pep talk. “You must be better than the last game, better than yesterday, and better than this morning.” The kids were just listening and absorbing all the positive words. All the moms were watching from the glass, for other reasons than the boys were..lol. After a few minutes he says, “Please welcome JS Giguere. All the kids were banging their sticks on the floor to make the most noise they could. Giguere joined the circle and was just chatting with the boys. After a few minutes, all the kids made a line and they waited for their chance to get their picture taken by a professional photographer with Giguere. What a memory! So they removed their helmets, each child had their smiling shot taken and the clinic began.
After the session was over, they all scurried to the dressing room and continued talking about what they had just experienced. All smiles were around the dressing room. As they were leaving, they all got their signed picture of themselves with Giguere. A keepsake they will always have.
I had brought Joseph’s Leafs jersey just in case I would have a chance to get JS to sign it. He was on the ice with the next group of kids so it was going to be kind of hard. But never underestimate a mother on a mission. My son was shy and said to me, “It’s ok let’s just go.” Oh no no no no. I was going to get that jersey signed no matter what.
I waited for the next group of kids to be done. So as he had done before, he was signing the pics of the individual shots at the bench. This was my chance. I quickly walked to behind the bench where there was just him and 2 young teen girls. 1 of the girls came up to me, and tried to speak. I managed to get JS’s attention and I said, “JS, can you please sign my son’s jersey.” He said, “Sure no problem.” I had to wait for him to sign the rest of the pics. I shook his hand and just chatted a bit. He signed, “To Joseph, JS Giguere.” I thanked him, and I ran back like the wind.
If you would have seen Joseph’s face, it was priceless. He was overwhelmed with joy. As we were walking back to the car, I explained to Joseph that he just witnessed a very valuable lesson. I told him, “Joseph if I would have given up and left when everyone else did, we would not have gotten what we wanted.” I went on to explain that in life no one person will hand you what you want in your lap, you must go get it yourself. He understood what I was saying and he realized that I just taught him something. I said, “The worst thing someone can say to you is No.”
The day was fun. The day was rainy, but the day was amazing. My son experienced something that doesn’t happen very often. He was on a high for the rest of the night. When we got home and he was getting ready for bed I sat beside him and we just chatted like we always do and Joseph and I both agreed that night, that he had just experienced one “sick” day.
That’s my peace today!
Baked Brie with honey and pecans
1 small brie
brie baker
2 tbsp of honey
1/4 c toasted pecans
a drizzle of olive oil
Remove the Brie from it's wrapping and put in an oven proof dish.
Make a few cuts in the top, drizzle with the olive oil
bake for 10 minutes, or until gooey. Remove lid and drizzle with the honey and sprinkle with the chopped pecans.
Serve with lots of French bread to scoop up the gooey cheese.
There are not too many times you can get opportunities like this. It was a 4 hour day planned. On Ice training and off ice training. He would get one of his on ice trainings with Giguere himself. There would only be 20 kids per group so I thought it seemed pretty reasonable. My husband and I surprised Joseph with the news and he was so excited but he had to wait over a month for the day to arrive.
On December 12, the day finally arrived. He woke up very excited and he was getting ready to go. I think he was a little nervous because he was quiet and that is not like Joseph to be quiet. My sister Nancy decided she would join us because my husband could not make it, he was busy at work. We packed his bag and we were on our way. It was raining the whole way, and he was silent the whole time.
When we got there, there were dozens of little boys (and a few girls) all waiting for instructions and the day’s agenda. They had lunch first, and then they went on the ice for their first round of training. After an hour, they undressed and went to the off- ice training. When they were done that, they got dressed again to go out on the ice. But this time, they were going to be on the ice with Stanley Cup champion Jean Sebastian Giguere.
The kids were as excited as they were nervous. They make their way out there and they wait for the buzzer to go off. The group before them exits the ice, and then they enter. They all gather in the centre of the ice where the organizer gives them a positive pep talk. “You must be better than the last game, better than yesterday, and better than this morning.” The kids were just listening and absorbing all the positive words. All the moms were watching from the glass, for other reasons than the boys were..lol. After a few minutes he says, “Please welcome JS Giguere. All the kids were banging their sticks on the floor to make the most noise they could. Giguere joined the circle and was just chatting with the boys. After a few minutes, all the kids made a line and they waited for their chance to get their picture taken by a professional photographer with Giguere. What a memory! So they removed their helmets, each child had their smiling shot taken and the clinic began.
After the session was over, they all scurried to the dressing room and continued talking about what they had just experienced. All smiles were around the dressing room. As they were leaving, they all got their signed picture of themselves with Giguere. A keepsake they will always have.
I had brought Joseph’s Leafs jersey just in case I would have a chance to get JS to sign it. He was on the ice with the next group of kids so it was going to be kind of hard. But never underestimate a mother on a mission. My son was shy and said to me, “It’s ok let’s just go.” Oh no no no no. I was going to get that jersey signed no matter what.
I waited for the next group of kids to be done. So as he had done before, he was signing the pics of the individual shots at the bench. This was my chance. I quickly walked to behind the bench where there was just him and 2 young teen girls. 1 of the girls came up to me, and tried to speak. I managed to get JS’s attention and I said, “JS, can you please sign my son’s jersey.” He said, “Sure no problem.” I had to wait for him to sign the rest of the pics. I shook his hand and just chatted a bit. He signed, “To Joseph, JS Giguere.” I thanked him, and I ran back like the wind.
If you would have seen Joseph’s face, it was priceless. He was overwhelmed with joy. As we were walking back to the car, I explained to Joseph that he just witnessed a very valuable lesson. I told him, “Joseph if I would have given up and left when everyone else did, we would not have gotten what we wanted.” I went on to explain that in life no one person will hand you what you want in your lap, you must go get it yourself. He understood what I was saying and he realized that I just taught him something. I said, “The worst thing someone can say to you is No.”
The day was fun. The day was rainy, but the day was amazing. My son experienced something that doesn’t happen very often. He was on a high for the rest of the night. When we got home and he was getting ready for bed I sat beside him and we just chatted like we always do and Joseph and I both agreed that night, that he had just experienced one “sick” day.
That’s my peace today!
Baked Brie with honey and pecans
1 small brie
brie baker
2 tbsp of honey
1/4 c toasted pecans
a drizzle of olive oil
Remove the Brie from it's wrapping and put in an oven proof dish.
Make a few cuts in the top, drizzle with the olive oil
bake for 10 minutes, or until gooey. Remove lid and drizzle with the honey and sprinkle with the chopped pecans.
Serve with lots of French bread to scoop up the gooey cheese.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Never Say Never
So many of you know by now that my daughter and I went to a Justin Bieber concert on Tuesday night. My daughter is a huge fan and I wanted to do something special for her, so we made a date and went.
We got there a little before the concert began and all I saw was thousands of smiley tween girls and cute little girls hurriedly going to their seats. There were 3 opening acts, and by 8:45pm, Justin Bieber walked on stage. Scream after scream. “Justin we love you” being chanted. It was so cute and so amazing to witness. Much to my surprise, he is a very talented and adorable boy. I learned that evening, that he taught himself how to play the guitar, the piano and the drums. I did not expect to enjoy the concert as much as I did.
During the concert, clips of his life were being shown on the big screen. Pictures of him, as a baby, as a toddler, and as a growing boy. Besides the fact that he was a blonde cutie pie, he was always in some kind of activity. It seems like he was actively involved in many hobbies and sports. At one point during the evening he was speaking to the audience. He was introducing the trailer of his new movie. He said to us that there were many haters, and there were many people who didn’t believe in him. They thought he would fail and that he never would have made it. Then he said, “I guess they were wrong.” The crowd went wild and we watched the clip.
When I got home, I went to bed, my ears were ringing but my face had a huge smile. The next morning I was curious to know a little bit more about the Biebster, so I did what any modern girl would do, I wikipedia’d him. I learned that he was born in London, Ontario. I learned that his mother had him when she was 18, and that she raised him on her own. I learned that he got discovered at the ripe young age of 14. Wow! This boy has accomplished popularity beyond anyone’s dreams. He has 4 AMA awards, something artists dream of for years. It took him 2 years.
I felt proud for him. When I was reading his biography it made me realize something. I appreciated the fact that anyone can become anything. He is a small boy, from a small town, in Canada. He is now a house hold name in over 30 countries in the world!
I feel excited. How amazing is the fact that anyone can become anything, when they want to be? How exciting is it that I can tell my children; with effort, determination, and true love, you can achieve the unimaginable. Life is really an open opportunity for all. There is no limit or boundaries that can stop anyone. Stories like this are a true inspiration to the young kids that don’t believe in the mere thought of “believe to receive.”
Imagine if everyone stopped trying for something if they failed? Imagine if we taught our children that they can never become something huge, if they want to be. Imagine if Justin Bieber’s mother told him that he would never be able to be a huge phenomenon? Imagine if she told him when he was younger, that he would never be able to sell out a show at Toronto’s ACC?
Imagine if she told him that even if he practiced, and practiced, and practiced, he still wouldn’t make it? Then she never would have known that her son would be the next big star. She never would have known what it feels like to witness her son accepting an award at the AMA’s. She told all those people that didn’t believe he wouldn’t make it, “Never say Never” because she knew in heart, that never comes faster than you think when you don’t stop trying.
That’s my peace today!
Mushroom with goat cheese melba toasts
2 cups shitake mushrooms
2 tbsp white wine
2 cloves crushed garlic
2 tbsp chopped parsley
salt and pepper to taste
1 package goat cheese
appetizer size melba toasts
4 tbsp olive oil
optional - 1/4 toasted pecans
In a pan, heat oil, add garlic and wine. Add mushrooms salt and pepper and parsley. Remove from heat once cooked (about 5 minutes) Drain and liquid. Arrange the toasts, evenly place the cooked mushroom mixture and top with crumbled goat cheese. Optional -Add a tasted pecan to each
We got there a little before the concert began and all I saw was thousands of smiley tween girls and cute little girls hurriedly going to their seats. There were 3 opening acts, and by 8:45pm, Justin Bieber walked on stage. Scream after scream. “Justin we love you” being chanted. It was so cute and so amazing to witness. Much to my surprise, he is a very talented and adorable boy. I learned that evening, that he taught himself how to play the guitar, the piano and the drums. I did not expect to enjoy the concert as much as I did.
During the concert, clips of his life were being shown on the big screen. Pictures of him, as a baby, as a toddler, and as a growing boy. Besides the fact that he was a blonde cutie pie, he was always in some kind of activity. It seems like he was actively involved in many hobbies and sports. At one point during the evening he was speaking to the audience. He was introducing the trailer of his new movie. He said to us that there were many haters, and there were many people who didn’t believe in him. They thought he would fail and that he never would have made it. Then he said, “I guess they were wrong.” The crowd went wild and we watched the clip.
When I got home, I went to bed, my ears were ringing but my face had a huge smile. The next morning I was curious to know a little bit more about the Biebster, so I did what any modern girl would do, I wikipedia’d him. I learned that he was born in London, Ontario. I learned that his mother had him when she was 18, and that she raised him on her own. I learned that he got discovered at the ripe young age of 14. Wow! This boy has accomplished popularity beyond anyone’s dreams. He has 4 AMA awards, something artists dream of for years. It took him 2 years.
I felt proud for him. When I was reading his biography it made me realize something. I appreciated the fact that anyone can become anything. He is a small boy, from a small town, in Canada. He is now a house hold name in over 30 countries in the world!
I feel excited. How amazing is the fact that anyone can become anything, when they want to be? How exciting is it that I can tell my children; with effort, determination, and true love, you can achieve the unimaginable. Life is really an open opportunity for all. There is no limit or boundaries that can stop anyone. Stories like this are a true inspiration to the young kids that don’t believe in the mere thought of “believe to receive.”
Imagine if everyone stopped trying for something if they failed? Imagine if we taught our children that they can never become something huge, if they want to be. Imagine if Justin Bieber’s mother told him that he would never be able to be a huge phenomenon? Imagine if she told him when he was younger, that he would never be able to sell out a show at Toronto’s ACC?
Imagine if she told him that even if he practiced, and practiced, and practiced, he still wouldn’t make it? Then she never would have known that her son would be the next big star. She never would have known what it feels like to witness her son accepting an award at the AMA’s. She told all those people that didn’t believe he wouldn’t make it, “Never say Never” because she knew in heart, that never comes faster than you think when you don’t stop trying.
That’s my peace today!
Mushroom with goat cheese melba toasts
2 cups shitake mushrooms
2 tbsp white wine
2 cloves crushed garlic
2 tbsp chopped parsley
salt and pepper to taste
1 package goat cheese
appetizer size melba toasts
4 tbsp olive oil
optional - 1/4 toasted pecans
In a pan, heat oil, add garlic and wine. Add mushrooms salt and pepper and parsley. Remove from heat once cooked (about 5 minutes) Drain and liquid. Arrange the toasts, evenly place the cooked mushroom mixture and top with crumbled goat cheese. Optional -Add a tasted pecan to each
Friday, November 12, 2010
30 minutes a day
This week my kids received their progress report. I didn’t really expect anything different than the year before. First I opened up Maria-Alicia’s report. E for Excellent in all the behaviour and independent activity section; developing above level for almost all the academic section. Then, I opened up Joseph’s report. Academically I was happy, he was developing and understanding just fine, I then turned over the paper, all I saw was S, S, S,S.....for Satisfactory. I almost died. Why was he getting satisfactory for his behaviour, conflict resolution and independent work time?
I paused for a little, I think I even had a tear. I then asked Joseph what was going on. He said nothing and that he always gets in trouble at school, even when it’s not him. I am one of those old school mothers when it comes to believing the teacher over my child. I look at it as, of course my son is going to blame the teacher, and he is too small to take responsibility. My husband and I talked it over with him and we both decided to wait until parent teacher interview to hear her side.
Thursday night came and my interview time was 6:40pm. I was nervous because I didn’t know what to expect. I decided Joseph should not be there with me because I felt this should be a confidential conversation between his teacher and I. I arrived and she greeted me with a smile. I sat down, I looked at her and I asked, “What is going on?” At the beginning of the year, Franco and I had gone for curriculum night and she assured us that he was behaving and that all was fine so this is why I was taken aback from the progress report. So she began to explain to me that Joseph is very smart and that he does not have a problem with the work. She said he is a social butterfly and he loves to interact with his friends. She went on to say that he sometimes does not always behave maturely and that he seeks a lot of attention. As she was speaking, bells went off in my head. I always knew that he was an attention seeker because he behaves like that at home, but I never thought he would do the same at school. She went on to tell me that he loves to be praised (not in an arrogant way) but in a child like way, so she praises his good behaviour whenever she could.
I don’t know how I kept the tears from running down my face. I felt like a failure. I felt like someone just confirmed to me what I had known deep down inside, but always tried to ignore. I know that Joseph loves attention but I didn’t realize it was the same at school. The teacher was being sincere in her tone; she calmly suggested that maybe Joseph feels like he is not always heard and that maybe he feels like he has to fight for words at home and he is starting to the same here because he feels like he can never be heard. Again, tears almost began to form; I had to fight ever fibre of being not to cry. I felt like hiding under a rock and throwing stones at myself. I allowed her to finish. I did not get offended or defensive because I knew she meant every word she said with every care in the world. She told me that she thought he was a bright kid, a wonderful free spirited kid, but not always as mature as he should be.
Then it was my turn to speak. I guess I was ok to admit to myself and to her that I do not always give him the attention he needs. All kids are different. Maria-Alicia enjoys being independent she does not need me to praise her every second, Joseph is the opposite. And instead of me comparing him to her, I had to learn to embrace his differences and treat him with more of the love and attention he needed.
I felt empowered when I left the interview. I felt like I had just learned something new in this world of parenthood. As I was going to my daughter’s interview I bumped into another mom. I quickly explained to her the brief realization of my son and how I will not be able to pay as much attention to my other kids as much as I like. She said something really enlightening to me. She said, “Keep your energy and attention for her when she is a teenager because right now she obviously doesn’t need it, but when she does need it you will do just the same for her.” That again, almost made me cry.
I went home and Joseph eagerly asked me what his teacher had said. I sat him down and I told him that she said he is super bright and that she loves being his teacher. I then asked him if he felt like he didn’t get enough attention from us. He looked at me, almost in tears, and said, “Mommy you are always so busy with the babies and you don’t ever have time for us.” I explained to him that he is lucky to have his siblings and that sometimes time gets compromised because of it. But I also came up with a solution. I asked him if we can set aside 30 minutes together every day (just him and I) and we can do whatever he wants in that time. He was excited and said, “I would like that.”
I am starting today (he even reminded me this morning..lol) I try my best every day to be a good mother. I always thought that feeding them, washing their clothes, buying them the necessities was enough, but it is obviously not. I cannot change the way I have been with my son since the babies have arrived. I cannot turn around and give him more of my time that has already passed. What I can do is recognize that I do not spend any alone time with him. I do not sit with him at least once a day and do something with him. I do not have the time that I need to do that to all 4 of my kids. But I have to play it one kid at a time. I have to roll with the punches and fill in the gaps as they come. The other 3 may not need me as much now, my oldest son does.
A mother bites her tongue sometimes when another mother judges. A mother brushes off the comment her own mother makes about her parenting decisions. A mother like the last word when she is arguing with her spouse. Last night when I was sitting there in the small elementary chair and my son’s teacher was speaking, it became all clear to me, I need to enjoy this time with my child. He needs my advice, he needs to hear my thoughts, and he wants to take my advice, because before I know it, I will be the one begging him for just 30 minutes a day.
That's my peace today!
Shrimp and Linguini with Pesto
1 clove garlic crushed
1 tbsp olive oil
1 pack baby shrimps
2 tbs white wine
2 tbs lemon juice
5 tbsp of pesto
1 package linguini
In a pan put garlic and olive oil and heat. Add shrimp, lemon juice and wine. (if there is too much liquid drain some). Once shrimp is pink and cooked, add 1 tbsp of the pesto, toss and put aside. Boil the pasta, drain. In the same pot place the rest of the pesto and mix. Make sure the pasta is well coated with pesto. Top with shrimp.
I paused for a little, I think I even had a tear. I then asked Joseph what was going on. He said nothing and that he always gets in trouble at school, even when it’s not him. I am one of those old school mothers when it comes to believing the teacher over my child. I look at it as, of course my son is going to blame the teacher, and he is too small to take responsibility. My husband and I talked it over with him and we both decided to wait until parent teacher interview to hear her side.
Thursday night came and my interview time was 6:40pm. I was nervous because I didn’t know what to expect. I decided Joseph should not be there with me because I felt this should be a confidential conversation between his teacher and I. I arrived and she greeted me with a smile. I sat down, I looked at her and I asked, “What is going on?” At the beginning of the year, Franco and I had gone for curriculum night and she assured us that he was behaving and that all was fine so this is why I was taken aback from the progress report. So she began to explain to me that Joseph is very smart and that he does not have a problem with the work. She said he is a social butterfly and he loves to interact with his friends. She went on to say that he sometimes does not always behave maturely and that he seeks a lot of attention. As she was speaking, bells went off in my head. I always knew that he was an attention seeker because he behaves like that at home, but I never thought he would do the same at school. She went on to tell me that he loves to be praised (not in an arrogant way) but in a child like way, so she praises his good behaviour whenever she could.
I don’t know how I kept the tears from running down my face. I felt like a failure. I felt like someone just confirmed to me what I had known deep down inside, but always tried to ignore. I know that Joseph loves attention but I didn’t realize it was the same at school. The teacher was being sincere in her tone; she calmly suggested that maybe Joseph feels like he is not always heard and that maybe he feels like he has to fight for words at home and he is starting to the same here because he feels like he can never be heard. Again, tears almost began to form; I had to fight ever fibre of being not to cry. I felt like hiding under a rock and throwing stones at myself. I allowed her to finish. I did not get offended or defensive because I knew she meant every word she said with every care in the world. She told me that she thought he was a bright kid, a wonderful free spirited kid, but not always as mature as he should be.
Then it was my turn to speak. I guess I was ok to admit to myself and to her that I do not always give him the attention he needs. All kids are different. Maria-Alicia enjoys being independent she does not need me to praise her every second, Joseph is the opposite. And instead of me comparing him to her, I had to learn to embrace his differences and treat him with more of the love and attention he needed.
I felt empowered when I left the interview. I felt like I had just learned something new in this world of parenthood. As I was going to my daughter’s interview I bumped into another mom. I quickly explained to her the brief realization of my son and how I will not be able to pay as much attention to my other kids as much as I like. She said something really enlightening to me. She said, “Keep your energy and attention for her when she is a teenager because right now she obviously doesn’t need it, but when she does need it you will do just the same for her.” That again, almost made me cry.
I went home and Joseph eagerly asked me what his teacher had said. I sat him down and I told him that she said he is super bright and that she loves being his teacher. I then asked him if he felt like he didn’t get enough attention from us. He looked at me, almost in tears, and said, “Mommy you are always so busy with the babies and you don’t ever have time for us.” I explained to him that he is lucky to have his siblings and that sometimes time gets compromised because of it. But I also came up with a solution. I asked him if we can set aside 30 minutes together every day (just him and I) and we can do whatever he wants in that time. He was excited and said, “I would like that.”
I am starting today (he even reminded me this morning..lol) I try my best every day to be a good mother. I always thought that feeding them, washing their clothes, buying them the necessities was enough, but it is obviously not. I cannot change the way I have been with my son since the babies have arrived. I cannot turn around and give him more of my time that has already passed. What I can do is recognize that I do not spend any alone time with him. I do not sit with him at least once a day and do something with him. I do not have the time that I need to do that to all 4 of my kids. But I have to play it one kid at a time. I have to roll with the punches and fill in the gaps as they come. The other 3 may not need me as much now, my oldest son does.
A mother bites her tongue sometimes when another mother judges. A mother brushes off the comment her own mother makes about her parenting decisions. A mother like the last word when she is arguing with her spouse. Last night when I was sitting there in the small elementary chair and my son’s teacher was speaking, it became all clear to me, I need to enjoy this time with my child. He needs my advice, he needs to hear my thoughts, and he wants to take my advice, because before I know it, I will be the one begging him for just 30 minutes a day.
That's my peace today!
Shrimp and Linguini with Pesto
1 clove garlic crushed
1 tbsp olive oil
1 pack baby shrimps
2 tbs white wine
2 tbs lemon juice
5 tbsp of pesto
1 package linguini
In a pan put garlic and olive oil and heat. Add shrimp, lemon juice and wine. (if there is too much liquid drain some). Once shrimp is pink and cooked, add 1 tbsp of the pesto, toss and put aside. Boil the pasta, drain. In the same pot place the rest of the pesto and mix. Make sure the pasta is well coated with pesto. Top with shrimp.
Friday, November 5, 2010
The role of a mother
The role of a mother begins from the moment you find out you are going to have a baby. The thoughts, the worries, the planning and all the sleepless nights occur. From the second your child is born your role in life becomes that much more important. You vow to take care of this child for the rest of their life.
Many women I know constantly question the way they are raising their kids. They call me or other mothers and ask for advice when you don’t know if you made the right decision. You second guess every little choice you make and you worry over a virus as common as the cold.
A mother is strong, not in strength, but in mind. They teach the family that love always comes first, and that a woman’s heart is her children. She teaches the family that the best people you will have in your life will be your siblings, and she will teach you that love can never be bought.
A mother’s day will be brightened by the simplest things; a good test mark, making the volleyball team, a compliment from another parent about your child, or the face she sees when her kids realize she made their favourite for dinner. Mothers are simple. They love and they need love back. They hug, and they need hugs back, they respect and they expect respect back.
A mother will never lie to you. A mother will never cheat on you, and a mother will never put anyone before you. A mother will cheer you on, even though you really suck at skating. A mother will stick up for you even though you really did break your brother’s hockey book. A mother will also always tell you that it’s not ok to be mean, and that it’s not ok to hurt someone’s feelings. A mother is there to sew your ripped sweater, or she is there to bring in to the cleaners to get fixed..lol. She will always find the way to make it right.
A mother will always wonder if she is doing the right thing. She will ask herself if her own mother would have done the same. A mother is a woman that is very important in your life. She is someone you want beside you every day when life is hard, or challenging, or just plain unfair.
I am sorry for all the friends I have, that have lost their mothers at a young age. I know that they miss them every day. I know that they think of them every day. I know that they strive to be like them every day. I cannot imagine the pain and the hurt someone feels when they lose their mother. The mother is the head of the household, the bricks in the home, and the soul of the family.
The only comfort I can offer to these dear friends of mine, is that the woman they miss is always there watching over them. She still is there to hold their hand when they are nervous for that interview. She is still there to make things feel better when they are hurt by someone’s ill intentions. She is still there to secretly advice them, when they don’t know what to do if their teenage child is out of line. A mother is a mother for life. When we are born she makes it understood that she is there for you always. You recognize her smell, her voice, and most importantly you recognize her love.
When we are little, our mothers are our hero’s. They are our mentors. They are our strength. Without you knowing, a mother teaches us that even though we don’t want to, we become them. A mother teaches us that we want to love so much more than we want to hate. A mother teaches us that they want so much more for us, than they ever had. A mother teaches us that even when they leave this earth, they are still guiding us. To all my friends that have lost their mothers, I commend your strength, I commend your courage, and I commend your spirits. You have been taught by her that she will by your side every day, that her job is never over and that she will be with you always. Because she assured you a long time before, that is her role as a mother.
That’s my peace today!
Apple Cake
5 apples diced
2 cups flour
2 cups sugar
1/2 tsp baking powder, salt, baking soda
2 tsp cinnimon
2 eggs
1 cup oil
1 tsp vanilla
in a bowl mix sugar, oil, vanilla, and eggs. In a seperate bowl mix dry ingredients. Add dry ingredients into egg mixture, mix with a spoon.Fold in apples. Bake at 350 degrees for 50 minutes in a 13x9 pan lined wth parchmen paper.
Many women I know constantly question the way they are raising their kids. They call me or other mothers and ask for advice when you don’t know if you made the right decision. You second guess every little choice you make and you worry over a virus as common as the cold.
A mother is strong, not in strength, but in mind. They teach the family that love always comes first, and that a woman’s heart is her children. She teaches the family that the best people you will have in your life will be your siblings, and she will teach you that love can never be bought.
A mother’s day will be brightened by the simplest things; a good test mark, making the volleyball team, a compliment from another parent about your child, or the face she sees when her kids realize she made their favourite for dinner. Mothers are simple. They love and they need love back. They hug, and they need hugs back, they respect and they expect respect back.
A mother will never lie to you. A mother will never cheat on you, and a mother will never put anyone before you. A mother will cheer you on, even though you really suck at skating. A mother will stick up for you even though you really did break your brother’s hockey book. A mother will also always tell you that it’s not ok to be mean, and that it’s not ok to hurt someone’s feelings. A mother is there to sew your ripped sweater, or she is there to bring in to the cleaners to get fixed..lol. She will always find the way to make it right.
A mother will always wonder if she is doing the right thing. She will ask herself if her own mother would have done the same. A mother is a woman that is very important in your life. She is someone you want beside you every day when life is hard, or challenging, or just plain unfair.
I am sorry for all the friends I have, that have lost their mothers at a young age. I know that they miss them every day. I know that they think of them every day. I know that they strive to be like them every day. I cannot imagine the pain and the hurt someone feels when they lose their mother. The mother is the head of the household, the bricks in the home, and the soul of the family.
The only comfort I can offer to these dear friends of mine, is that the woman they miss is always there watching over them. She still is there to hold their hand when they are nervous for that interview. She is still there to make things feel better when they are hurt by someone’s ill intentions. She is still there to secretly advice them, when they don’t know what to do if their teenage child is out of line. A mother is a mother for life. When we are born she makes it understood that she is there for you always. You recognize her smell, her voice, and most importantly you recognize her love.
When we are little, our mothers are our hero’s. They are our mentors. They are our strength. Without you knowing, a mother teaches us that even though we don’t want to, we become them. A mother teaches us that we want to love so much more than we want to hate. A mother teaches us that they want so much more for us, than they ever had. A mother teaches us that even when they leave this earth, they are still guiding us. To all my friends that have lost their mothers, I commend your strength, I commend your courage, and I commend your spirits. You have been taught by her that she will by your side every day, that her job is never over and that she will be with you always. Because she assured you a long time before, that is her role as a mother.
That’s my peace today!
Apple Cake
5 apples diced
2 cups flour
2 cups sugar
1/2 tsp baking powder, salt, baking soda
2 tsp cinnimon
2 eggs
1 cup oil
1 tsp vanilla
in a bowl mix sugar, oil, vanilla, and eggs. In a seperate bowl mix dry ingredients. Add dry ingredients into egg mixture, mix with a spoon.Fold in apples. Bake at 350 degrees for 50 minutes in a 13x9 pan lined wth parchmen paper.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Scars and Stretch marks do not make you a mother; Love does
There was a point in my life (for 6 years) when I lived in Montreal. I had just gotten married and was ready to start a new life. I was working in an Advertising Agency and I was doing what I loved most. 10 months after marriage, I got pregnant with my first child, and 9 months after that, I had Joseph.
After 18 months of an extended Mat leave, I came back to work to find many changes in the office. There was new people and new accounts. Our company had replaced my direct manager with some new chick from the States..lol.
At first, Jackie was tough and direct, not really letting me into her personal life. I remember a moment in her office when I began to open up to her and get more personal. I knew she was married and that she didn’t have any children. So I asked her if she wanted any. She replied with, “No, I am quite content with my husband Tony.” She had moved all the way from Atlanta, Georgia to be with her husband. I went on to tell her how wonderful motherhood was and how it changed my life and so on and so on. She just looked at me, smiled, and changed the subject. I did not want to tell her at the time, but I thought she was kind of cold to openly say she had no desire for children.
Call me naive, or call me rude, but I feel like it should be a woman’s natural instinct to want to be a mother. Sometimes in life, things happen, and our road does not lead us down that path, but to openly admit that you do not want kids ever, felt strange to me.
After a few months of working together, Jackie and I became 2 peas in a pod. I embraced her strong Atlanta accent, and she embraced my Italian Toronto accent. It was great, I taught her how to make tomato sauce and jarred olives, and she taught me that not all African American people liked the reggae singer “Shaggy.”..lol. We grew to be very close. Eventually Jackie admitted to me that she and Tony really wanted children and they were exploring the option of adoption.
It was the end of summer, turning into fall when she buzzed me into her office. She was on the phone; I walked up to her desk and on a sticky note, in her beautiful penmanship, she wrote, “It’s a boy.” I gasped, tears in my eyes began to form, and just like that, Jackie was a mom.
Her baby boy was born September 4th, 2003 and 8 days later he was at home with his new mommy and daddy. All those years of wondering if she would ever know the feeling of love for her own child, just came true.
They decided to name their new son Keenan. She was giving a home to this little boy that was being given up for adoption, not because he was not loved by his biological mother, but because she knew that Jackie and Tony would be able to care for him so much more than she could.
Baby Keenan was welcomed home by his grandmothers, his aunties, and his cousins. He had so much love around him, and not 1 person treated him any differently than had Jackie delivered him herself. Jackie took an 8 month maternity leave which turned into an entirety leave...lol. She left our company because she decided to stay home with the new love of her life. I remember one day when I was speaking to her after one of her first few days at home and she told me this, “I cannot believe how much I love this little boy, I always knew I wanted to be a mother but I didn’t know I would be so lucky to have him as MY son.” She was so proud that he was hers, and that she was given the opportunity to raise him.
Tony, Jackie and Keenan eventually moved back to Atlanta, and I eventually moved back to Toronto. But for those years that we lived in the same city we learned a lot from each other. I taught her that not all blondes are ditsy...lol..(ok maybe some more than others)and she taught me that you do not have to give birth to a child to become a mother.
It has been over 7 years since little Keenan was brought into this world, and one day he will learn how much love he brought to a couple that longed for him for so long. He will learn that he made Jackie a mom; and he will learn that her life means so much more, now that he’s in it. He will learn that his biological mother gave Jackie a gift that was more important than any other gift she will receive. And one day little Keenan will learn that in life, scars and stretch marks do not make you a mother; love does.
That’s my peace today!
Jarred Olives
1 case of olives (seasonal in early all)
1 pack salt
1 container of fennel seeds
15 red chilli peppers (whole)
cold water
6 cloves garlic seperated in large pieces
1 egg
15 mason jars
With a mallot, smash the olives (not too hard, just hard enough to split open) keep the bone in. Once that is done, rinse the olives in cold water. In a clean bucket, add cold water (enough to fill 15 jars for the olives, place the egg in the bucket and add the salt. Once the egg surfaces to the top of the water you have put enough salt. Meanwhile, evenly put the fennel seeds, 1 pepper and garlic in jars. Begin to fill with the olives. Once all jars are full, pour the salted water in the jars (completely cover the olives) close the lids very tight. You can enjoy after about 4 months.
After 18 months of an extended Mat leave, I came back to work to find many changes in the office. There was new people and new accounts. Our company had replaced my direct manager with some new chick from the States..lol.
At first, Jackie was tough and direct, not really letting me into her personal life. I remember a moment in her office when I began to open up to her and get more personal. I knew she was married and that she didn’t have any children. So I asked her if she wanted any. She replied with, “No, I am quite content with my husband Tony.” She had moved all the way from Atlanta, Georgia to be with her husband. I went on to tell her how wonderful motherhood was and how it changed my life and so on and so on. She just looked at me, smiled, and changed the subject. I did not want to tell her at the time, but I thought she was kind of cold to openly say she had no desire for children.
Call me naive, or call me rude, but I feel like it should be a woman’s natural instinct to want to be a mother. Sometimes in life, things happen, and our road does not lead us down that path, but to openly admit that you do not want kids ever, felt strange to me.
After a few months of working together, Jackie and I became 2 peas in a pod. I embraced her strong Atlanta accent, and she embraced my Italian Toronto accent. It was great, I taught her how to make tomato sauce and jarred olives, and she taught me that not all African American people liked the reggae singer “Shaggy.”..lol. We grew to be very close. Eventually Jackie admitted to me that she and Tony really wanted children and they were exploring the option of adoption.
It was the end of summer, turning into fall when she buzzed me into her office. She was on the phone; I walked up to her desk and on a sticky note, in her beautiful penmanship, she wrote, “It’s a boy.” I gasped, tears in my eyes began to form, and just like that, Jackie was a mom.
Her baby boy was born September 4th, 2003 and 8 days later he was at home with his new mommy and daddy. All those years of wondering if she would ever know the feeling of love for her own child, just came true.
They decided to name their new son Keenan. She was giving a home to this little boy that was being given up for adoption, not because he was not loved by his biological mother, but because she knew that Jackie and Tony would be able to care for him so much more than she could.
Baby Keenan was welcomed home by his grandmothers, his aunties, and his cousins. He had so much love around him, and not 1 person treated him any differently than had Jackie delivered him herself. Jackie took an 8 month maternity leave which turned into an entirety leave...lol. She left our company because she decided to stay home with the new love of her life. I remember one day when I was speaking to her after one of her first few days at home and she told me this, “I cannot believe how much I love this little boy, I always knew I wanted to be a mother but I didn’t know I would be so lucky to have him as MY son.” She was so proud that he was hers, and that she was given the opportunity to raise him.
Tony, Jackie and Keenan eventually moved back to Atlanta, and I eventually moved back to Toronto. But for those years that we lived in the same city we learned a lot from each other. I taught her that not all blondes are ditsy...lol..(ok maybe some more than others)and she taught me that you do not have to give birth to a child to become a mother.
It has been over 7 years since little Keenan was brought into this world, and one day he will learn how much love he brought to a couple that longed for him for so long. He will learn that he made Jackie a mom; and he will learn that her life means so much more, now that he’s in it. He will learn that his biological mother gave Jackie a gift that was more important than any other gift she will receive. And one day little Keenan will learn that in life, scars and stretch marks do not make you a mother; love does.
That’s my peace today!
Jarred Olives
1 case of olives (seasonal in early all)
1 pack salt
1 container of fennel seeds
15 red chilli peppers (whole)
cold water
6 cloves garlic seperated in large pieces
1 egg
15 mason jars
With a mallot, smash the olives (not too hard, just hard enough to split open) keep the bone in. Once that is done, rinse the olives in cold water. In a clean bucket, add cold water (enough to fill 15 jars for the olives, place the egg in the bucket and add the salt. Once the egg surfaces to the top of the water you have put enough salt. Meanwhile, evenly put the fennel seeds, 1 pepper and garlic in jars. Begin to fill with the olives. Once all jars are full, pour the salted water in the jars (completely cover the olives) close the lids very tight. You can enjoy after about 4 months.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
It is confirmed...I am not the only one
We all like to think of ourselves as good people. We take pride in our accomplishments and we take pride in our family. We are taught from when we are little that we should mind our manners and be polite to others. We learn how to keep secrets, and we learn that we should not always tell our teachers what mommy and daddy say to each other when they are upset. We just learn to behave and conform to every one’s expectation of what “normal” is.
I can tell you, over 9 years ago, my “normal” changed. Not the definition of normal, but my normal with myself and others. I remember feeling overwhelmed and raw after I joined the world of motherhood. The feeling of naivety and paranoia. It is something I did not understand and even care to understand. I pretended to everyone that it was all good, and life was as “normal” as the next person.
We just assume that everyone else is doing a better job. We assume that their home is neater, cleaner and their children are more behaved than our own. I know I have told my own children things like, “Daniel would never say that to his mother” or “Daniel helps his mom out all the time” and when I say things like that, I guess I can say that I am only assuming. I don’t live in Daniel’s house, so I don’t know how Daniel treats his mom when I am not there.
I think that sometimes we (at least I am) too hard on ourselves. We want so much to be a good parent; a role model; a perfect wife that we don’t realize that we most likely are. Sometimes I question myself and my own thoughts. I wonder if it’s “normal” to want space from your child that is constantly begging you for next year’s birthday gift a day after this year’s birthday. I sometimes wonder if it’s “normal” to want to run up to bed before my husband, so I can get some well deserved sleep. And I also wonder if it’s “normal” to enjoy leaving my kids for an hour so I can go exercise.
We have friends that we confide in. Some of us are lucky enough to have sisters to talk to, and some even go to the extent of discussing these things with their own mothers..lol. And if you have great people in your life like I do, then they will tell you that everything we think and question and wonder is “normal”...is. They will back you up and tell you that they too have those feelings. They will not listen and silently judge, but instead, they will add in to the conversation and add some of their own frustrating examples of their own spouses and sometimes spoiled children. They will reassure you that you are a good mother, and you are not screwing your kids up by sending them to their room for being rude. They will reassure you that life is not always greener on the other side, and in fact, weeds grow much quicker on perfectly landscaped lawn, than on ones that are run on, rolled on, and laughed on.
Today, I am speaking for all the mothers that ever felt like they were alone. I am speaking for all the mothers who ever questioned if they were good mothers. I am speaking for all the mothers that have ever wondered if what they are feeling is “normal”. I am speaking for all mothers who actually THINK that mothers really do “Bake in heels”.
With age comes wrinkles, crow’s lines, and most importantly, what comes with age is experience. It is the experience to know that we are great at what we do, as long as we do it with good intention; love and strength. We learn that when we try our best, good things happen. We also learn that in our hectic lives of motherhood there are moments of reflection; moments of silence; and moments of gracefulness. And when sometimes you wonder or you question if what you are thinking, or what you just said to your child was a “normal” thing for a mother to say, then pick up the phone and call another mother. You will realize and it will be confirmed...that you are not the only one!
That’s my peace today!
Roasted Red Pepper Panino
3 red peppers
2 cloves garlic
6 large springs of basil
1/4 cup olive oil
salt and oregano
4 large buns
Roast peppers on grill or in oven, for at least 30 minutes (flip half wa through) let cool. Peel skin off peppers and with your hands, seperate peppers in strips. Place in a bowl. Add cut garlic, oil, salt, oregano and basil. Toss to make sure it is well coated. (you can add more oil if it is not oily enough) Divide evenly into 4 large buns. You can grill on a presser if you choose too.
I can tell you, over 9 years ago, my “normal” changed. Not the definition of normal, but my normal with myself and others. I remember feeling overwhelmed and raw after I joined the world of motherhood. The feeling of naivety and paranoia. It is something I did not understand and even care to understand. I pretended to everyone that it was all good, and life was as “normal” as the next person.
We just assume that everyone else is doing a better job. We assume that their home is neater, cleaner and their children are more behaved than our own. I know I have told my own children things like, “Daniel would never say that to his mother” or “Daniel helps his mom out all the time” and when I say things like that, I guess I can say that I am only assuming. I don’t live in Daniel’s house, so I don’t know how Daniel treats his mom when I am not there.
I think that sometimes we (at least I am) too hard on ourselves. We want so much to be a good parent; a role model; a perfect wife that we don’t realize that we most likely are. Sometimes I question myself and my own thoughts. I wonder if it’s “normal” to want space from your child that is constantly begging you for next year’s birthday gift a day after this year’s birthday. I sometimes wonder if it’s “normal” to want to run up to bed before my husband, so I can get some well deserved sleep. And I also wonder if it’s “normal” to enjoy leaving my kids for an hour so I can go exercise.
We have friends that we confide in. Some of us are lucky enough to have sisters to talk to, and some even go to the extent of discussing these things with their own mothers..lol. And if you have great people in your life like I do, then they will tell you that everything we think and question and wonder is “normal”...is. They will back you up and tell you that they too have those feelings. They will not listen and silently judge, but instead, they will add in to the conversation and add some of their own frustrating examples of their own spouses and sometimes spoiled children. They will reassure you that you are a good mother, and you are not screwing your kids up by sending them to their room for being rude. They will reassure you that life is not always greener on the other side, and in fact, weeds grow much quicker on perfectly landscaped lawn, than on ones that are run on, rolled on, and laughed on.
Today, I am speaking for all the mothers that ever felt like they were alone. I am speaking for all the mothers who ever questioned if they were good mothers. I am speaking for all the mothers that have ever wondered if what they are feeling is “normal”. I am speaking for all mothers who actually THINK that mothers really do “Bake in heels”.
With age comes wrinkles, crow’s lines, and most importantly, what comes with age is experience. It is the experience to know that we are great at what we do, as long as we do it with good intention; love and strength. We learn that when we try our best, good things happen. We also learn that in our hectic lives of motherhood there are moments of reflection; moments of silence; and moments of gracefulness. And when sometimes you wonder or you question if what you are thinking, or what you just said to your child was a “normal” thing for a mother to say, then pick up the phone and call another mother. You will realize and it will be confirmed...that you are not the only one!
That’s my peace today!
Roasted Red Pepper Panino
3 red peppers
2 cloves garlic
6 large springs of basil
1/4 cup olive oil
salt and oregano
4 large buns
Roast peppers on grill or in oven, for at least 30 minutes (flip half wa through) let cool. Peel skin off peppers and with your hands, seperate peppers in strips. Place in a bowl. Add cut garlic, oil, salt, oregano and basil. Toss to make sure it is well coated. (you can add more oil if it is not oily enough) Divide evenly into 4 large buns. You can grill on a presser if you choose too.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Momma said there'd be days like this
Being a parent is not easy. You have good days, and you have bad days...and then you have really bad days. Sometimes I wonder why there isn’t warning labels on pregnancy tests. Something like “WARNING...your future will forever change and there aint no way of turning back so hold on, and don’t ever let go”. We are warned by many of our peers, and from our very own mothers, but for some reason it doesn’t mean anything until you go through it.
Over the weekend I was at my parent’s house. My husband was working and I was there with the twins. Merly and Joseph had gone out with my sister and aunt. My dad was upstairs doing some stuff and me and my mom were in the basement, just chatting. I was looking at the weekly flyers and my mother was sitting on the couch. Michael and Jenna decided to play. When I say play, I mean, they decided to stand on the couch and jump. In one second, I hear a bang; I jump up and see Jenna had fallen backwards flat on her head from the couch. The basement has ceramic tiles, with a thin area rug. I ran towards her, she was crying a little and then...OMG...I was not prepared for what happened next.
Jenna‘s eyes began to roll in the back of her head and her whole body went limp, she looked like she stopped breathing. I ran with my mother to the sink, Jenna in arms, and we threw water on her face. Nothing! She was not moving, she was not responsive. I panicked! I began screaming, “Call 911, Call 911!” My father ran downstairs because he heard all the commotion. He took over. I was on the phone with 911:
“911...what’s your emergency?”
“My daughter fell, she’s not breathing, she’s not responding”
“Ok Mom, calm down.”
At that moment, my dad yelled out, “She’s breathing, she’s breathing.” I gasp and told the operator she was now breathing. “Paramedics are on the way.” Is what she assured me. My daughter looked frail and week; I could not believe what had just happened.
Kids fall all the time, they bump their heads; they cry; you put ice on the bump; and they are ok. Not this time. When I looked at my daughter, I thought we had lost her. I thought she hit her tiny little head so hard that it was just too much for her to handle. I don’t know what I was thinking at the moment I was screaming to call 911, and I don’t know how I even had the brains to find the phone, I just kept thinking in my mind, “this can’t be happening, how could this be happening?” We were just sitting there doing nothing, how can we now be calling the ambulance.
The fire department arrived first. (911 now knew she was responsive). They assessed her, and we waiting for the EMT. They then arrived, assessed her and reassured me she was ok. The paramedics explained to me that she most likely got the wind knocked out of her because she did not have a bump on her head. He then said to me that kid’s bones are a lot more resilient than we think. He did tell me to keep an eye on her and to wake her up several times that night to make sure she was responsive. In the meantime, my other daughter arrived back with my aunt, and my sister arrived back with Joseph. Everyone was surprised to see what the heck they had missed. My poor little 6 year old began to cry when she found out her baby sister had fallen. Ironically enough, she had just come back from buying a very shiny sticker that said, “I love my sister.”
As we were sitting there with the firefighters, paramedics, and police people (yes they came too). They said exactly what I was thinking; “When you have children, you have to expect things like this. They will fall, and they will scare you when they do, the only important thing is that you can joke about it after, and if you can, you know it’s just part of the process.”
When you become a parent you are never prepared for all the “unfun” things of it. You buy diapers for their pee and poo; you buy baby body wash for their baths; and you buy pj’s for their naps. You never want to prepare for the moments you will be screaming, searching for the phone, and calling 911. These are the things we wish we can skip. These are the parts of parenthood that we never want to go through. But I guess what doesn’t kill you, does make you stronger..I hope.
I cannot explain to you the feeling I had when I thought my Jenna was not going to make it. It was surreal, it was unimaginable, I wanted to just shake it all off and pretend it was not happening. The worst thing they tell you not to do in a situation is panic. But how can you not panic when you see your 2 year old daughter limp, and unresponsive? It’s harder than you can imagine.
I later asked Jenna where she did “boo boo”? and she pointed to her back. Your back? What? I guess that’s why she did not have a bump, and I guess she really did get the wind knocked out of her. Thank God my father was there to take over because me and mother needed our own resuscitator to help us breathe..lol. I am glad I can now laugh about it, and I can now add it to the list of things I get to tell my kids when they are older why they almost gave me heart failures. I guess I will just add it to the list of life, and mother hood. I guess I will just define it as one of those days... because my momma said there’d be days like this, and I guess we both should have known that.
That’s my peace today!
Rustica
1 pizza dough
8 slices of provonle cheese
1 cup shredded mozzarella and fontina cheese
8 slices ham
1 tub ricotta
1 egg white, 1 tsp water for glazing
Roll out dough to thin round circle. Lay the ham and provolone cheese around the outer part, spread mozzarella and fontina cheese evenly. Pour the ricotta in the middle. Invisibly divide the dough into 4 pieces, fold over each piece, leaving the ricotta in the middle exposed. The dough should look like a wreath, with a whole in the middle. Glaze the outside with the egg wash. Place in oven at 425 degrees for 15 minutes or until golden brown.
Over the weekend I was at my parent’s house. My husband was working and I was there with the twins. Merly and Joseph had gone out with my sister and aunt. My dad was upstairs doing some stuff and me and my mom were in the basement, just chatting. I was looking at the weekly flyers and my mother was sitting on the couch. Michael and Jenna decided to play. When I say play, I mean, they decided to stand on the couch and jump. In one second, I hear a bang; I jump up and see Jenna had fallen backwards flat on her head from the couch. The basement has ceramic tiles, with a thin area rug. I ran towards her, she was crying a little and then...OMG...I was not prepared for what happened next.
Jenna‘s eyes began to roll in the back of her head and her whole body went limp, she looked like she stopped breathing. I ran with my mother to the sink, Jenna in arms, and we threw water on her face. Nothing! She was not moving, she was not responsive. I panicked! I began screaming, “Call 911, Call 911!” My father ran downstairs because he heard all the commotion. He took over. I was on the phone with 911:
“911...what’s your emergency?”
“My daughter fell, she’s not breathing, she’s not responding”
“Ok Mom, calm down.”
At that moment, my dad yelled out, “She’s breathing, she’s breathing.” I gasp and told the operator she was now breathing. “Paramedics are on the way.” Is what she assured me. My daughter looked frail and week; I could not believe what had just happened.
Kids fall all the time, they bump their heads; they cry; you put ice on the bump; and they are ok. Not this time. When I looked at my daughter, I thought we had lost her. I thought she hit her tiny little head so hard that it was just too much for her to handle. I don’t know what I was thinking at the moment I was screaming to call 911, and I don’t know how I even had the brains to find the phone, I just kept thinking in my mind, “this can’t be happening, how could this be happening?” We were just sitting there doing nothing, how can we now be calling the ambulance.
The fire department arrived first. (911 now knew she was responsive). They assessed her, and we waiting for the EMT. They then arrived, assessed her and reassured me she was ok. The paramedics explained to me that she most likely got the wind knocked out of her because she did not have a bump on her head. He then said to me that kid’s bones are a lot more resilient than we think. He did tell me to keep an eye on her and to wake her up several times that night to make sure she was responsive. In the meantime, my other daughter arrived back with my aunt, and my sister arrived back with Joseph. Everyone was surprised to see what the heck they had missed. My poor little 6 year old began to cry when she found out her baby sister had fallen. Ironically enough, she had just come back from buying a very shiny sticker that said, “I love my sister.”
As we were sitting there with the firefighters, paramedics, and police people (yes they came too). They said exactly what I was thinking; “When you have children, you have to expect things like this. They will fall, and they will scare you when they do, the only important thing is that you can joke about it after, and if you can, you know it’s just part of the process.”
When you become a parent you are never prepared for all the “unfun” things of it. You buy diapers for their pee and poo; you buy baby body wash for their baths; and you buy pj’s for their naps. You never want to prepare for the moments you will be screaming, searching for the phone, and calling 911. These are the things we wish we can skip. These are the parts of parenthood that we never want to go through. But I guess what doesn’t kill you, does make you stronger..I hope.
I cannot explain to you the feeling I had when I thought my Jenna was not going to make it. It was surreal, it was unimaginable, I wanted to just shake it all off and pretend it was not happening. The worst thing they tell you not to do in a situation is panic. But how can you not panic when you see your 2 year old daughter limp, and unresponsive? It’s harder than you can imagine.
I later asked Jenna where she did “boo boo”? and she pointed to her back. Your back? What? I guess that’s why she did not have a bump, and I guess she really did get the wind knocked out of her. Thank God my father was there to take over because me and mother needed our own resuscitator to help us breathe..lol. I am glad I can now laugh about it, and I can now add it to the list of things I get to tell my kids when they are older why they almost gave me heart failures. I guess I will just add it to the list of life, and mother hood. I guess I will just define it as one of those days... because my momma said there’d be days like this, and I guess we both should have known that.
That’s my peace today!
Rustica
1 pizza dough
8 slices of provonle cheese
1 cup shredded mozzarella and fontina cheese
8 slices ham
1 tub ricotta
1 egg white, 1 tsp water for glazing
Roll out dough to thin round circle. Lay the ham and provolone cheese around the outer part, spread mozzarella and fontina cheese evenly. Pour the ricotta in the middle. Invisibly divide the dough into 4 pieces, fold over each piece, leaving the ricotta in the middle exposed. The dough should look like a wreath, with a whole in the middle. Glaze the outside with the egg wash. Place in oven at 425 degrees for 15 minutes or until golden brown.
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