I remember growing up in a strict Italian home where nothing was given for nothing. Things had to be earned and or appreciated. Gifts were given on birthdays or Christmas and a fruit roll up was something we saw on TV. “Money doesn’t grow on trees” was a stamp saying in our home and “go help your mother” was another. This was not rare or unheard of either, that was the “norm” for me and my friends.
Today, love is “measured” by how much we buy for your kids. “You don’t love me mommy, because if you did, you would buy me that” is what my soon to be 9 year old tells me. He can only get away with that for so long until I get fed up; open the sliding door (that backs on to a forest) and I literally whip whatever he has in hands into the deer -friendly woods. It’s not only my children who seem to just want everything they see. I witness it when I am out and about. Kids whining, kids begging, and then kids getting what they want.
I remember begging my mother...and I mean begging her for a pair of shoes that I just had to have. I didn’t need them, so to my mother’s logic, she was not going to buy me anything I did not need. There was no giving in; there was no pulling out a lollipop to calm me down. It was just plain old NO! If I didn’t stop whining, then when we got home I went straight to my room for adding extra drama on the outing.
Shopping was not a past time. My mother went shopping when we needed something. Maybe a dress for an upcoming wedding, or a pair of indoor runners or maybe a pair of warm winter boots. We did not go to the mall because she was bored and she felt like entertaining us, we went to the park (that was free) for that.
I sometimes get frustrated with my own children and then with myself. Yesterday, I tried to think of 5 things that I can do with my kids that I did not need to pull out my wallet for? I came up with a few but the point is, I do not usually do those things. My husband was working and it was a beautiful day. I wanted to take the kids for a walk, so I got them ready and we went. I did not leave without my wallet. I knew that I would be caught somewhere and I would need money. We ended up at La Paloma (an Italian much overpriced ice cream place). 3 small piccolo ice creams...$15!...My reaction....PRICELESS! I could not believe they raised their prices again. My kids took their ice cream and we went outside to enjoy the beautiful weather. They had no idea that I just spent almost $20 for 3 ice creams. My mother would have taken us to Miracle Mart, she would have bought 1 tub of Chapman’s, a pack of cones, and we would have eaten ice cream for the week... for $2!
I am not trying to say that my kids are spoiled, and do not appreciate things because they are good kids (when they sleep..lol) and they do respect when I say something or when I demand something, or when I ask them to do things. They get an allowance when they do their designated chores around the house because I feel like they will understand what it is to earn money. My daughter is so cute, when I told her La Paloma was so much money she said, “It’s ok mommy, I will pay with my money” She went upstairs to get her wallet. That made me smile because at least I knew she “understood”.
Sometimes I think that it is not our kids. In fact, I know it is not our kids. How do they know what “Diesel” is? How do they know what Juicy Couture is? We teach them. We teach them that they have to look nice. We teach them that shopping is a hobby and a necessity. Kids cannot learn that on their own. I know that I am guilty of overindulging my kids sometimes. It is not something I am proud of and I try to teach them that money is something you need to earn. I just hope that they do get it; I just hope that my kids will appreciate and respect everything, like when I was a kid. “Times are different” is what I tell my mother all the time. Yes times are different. I grew up in a time where love was shown with the wooden spoon on my ass..lol..Now it’s love “version 2010”. Love doesn’t change, the people do.
That’s my peace today!
Nutella filled Crepes
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/2 cup water
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter, melted
1 jar Nutella
Whisk all ingredients in a bowl (except Nutella). In a heated wide pan take a ladle of batter and pour. Lift pan and spread the batter so it goes all around in a thin layer. Cook about 2 min, loosen with spatula, flip and cook over side. Remove put in plate, spread as much nutella as desired and roll closed.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
A father's love for his son
On March 27th I attended my work’s annual Spring meeting. Along with all the work stuff and routine presentations, the CEO of our company invited a motivational speaker to talk to all the attendees. I was anticipating his presentation because my boss spoke so highly of him and his speeches.
As the day began we went through all the work stuff and our speaker was up. He told us some really motivational stories of survival and leadership. He told 1 story that touched my heart and changed me forever, and I would like to share this story will all of you.
This is the story of Rick and Dick Hoyt. Over 40 years ago Dick and his wife gave birth to a baby boy named Rick. There were complications with the umbilical cord and he did not receive enough oxygen to his brain; this caused permanent brain damage and an inability to move his limbs. The doctor explained to his parents that he would be a vegetable for the rest of his life, but Dick could not believe it.
When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help their son communicate. "No way,'' Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain.'' "Tell him a joke,'' Dick said. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. His first words he uttered were "Go Bruins!''
In high school, a fellow classmate became paralyzed due to an accident and the school was running a marathon for him to raise money. Rick told his dad he wanted to do that. Dick was unsure because he knew he would have to push his son’s wheelchair that day, he was not in any shape to do that. But he did it for Rick. That day changed Rick's life. "Dad,'' he typed, "When we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!'' And that sentence changed Dick's life forever. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such great shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon. Dick was told by an official that he would not be able to run in the marathon. The Hoyt's weren't a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. So, for the first few years, Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway.
Later, they would find a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year. Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?'' How was a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done over 200 triathlons, and if that wasn’t enough, they participated in more than a few grueling 15-hour Ironman competitions.
After many years of Dick and Rick running and inspiring, Dick had a massive heart attack due to a genetic disposition. Dick survived. The doctor explained to him that any “normal” man his age would have never survived a heart attack of that caliber, but because he was in such good shape, he lived. Had he not ran all these years pushing his son in all these races, he would have died before the age of 65. Rick needed Dick all those years for all the races, but in the end, it was Dick that thanked his son Rick for saving his own life.
This is the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt.
This real life story is a true example of unconditional love of a parent. This story touched me deeper than I could have imagined. We all know that our parents love us. We all know our parents would walk on fire for us. We all know that our parents would cut off their right arm for us. We all know the love of our own children, and we can only imagine how Dick felt when the doctors told him and his wife all those years ago that their son would be a vegetable. Rick Hoyt was not a vegetable. Rick Hoyt was not disabled. His father made him able. His father made him live. His father made him feel like he was running, when doctors said he never would.
This is a story of hope. This is a story of determination. This is a story of a father’s love for his son.
That’s my peace today!
Italian style grilled cheese
Thick toast bread
12 slices of provolone cheese
6 slices prosciutto cotto
2 large buffalo mozzarella sliced
1/4 cup butter
12 springs fresh basil
Take 2 slices per sandwich. Add 2 slices provolone, 2 slices of mozzarella and 1 slice of prosciutto and 2 slices of basil. Repeat for all 6 sandwiches. In a heated pan put the butter and add each sandwich, flipping after 3 minutes. Grill until both sides are golden and cheese is melted.
As the day began we went through all the work stuff and our speaker was up. He told us some really motivational stories of survival and leadership. He told 1 story that touched my heart and changed me forever, and I would like to share this story will all of you.
This is the story of Rick and Dick Hoyt. Over 40 years ago Dick and his wife gave birth to a baby boy named Rick. There were complications with the umbilical cord and he did not receive enough oxygen to his brain; this caused permanent brain damage and an inability to move his limbs. The doctor explained to his parents that he would be a vegetable for the rest of his life, but Dick could not believe it.
When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help their son communicate. "No way,'' Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain.'' "Tell him a joke,'' Dick said. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. His first words he uttered were "Go Bruins!''
In high school, a fellow classmate became paralyzed due to an accident and the school was running a marathon for him to raise money. Rick told his dad he wanted to do that. Dick was unsure because he knew he would have to push his son’s wheelchair that day, he was not in any shape to do that. But he did it for Rick. That day changed Rick's life. "Dad,'' he typed, "When we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!'' And that sentence changed Dick's life forever. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such great shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon. Dick was told by an official that he would not be able to run in the marathon. The Hoyt's weren't a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. So, for the first few years, Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway.
Later, they would find a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year. Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?'' How was a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done over 200 triathlons, and if that wasn’t enough, they participated in more than a few grueling 15-hour Ironman competitions.
After many years of Dick and Rick running and inspiring, Dick had a massive heart attack due to a genetic disposition. Dick survived. The doctor explained to him that any “normal” man his age would have never survived a heart attack of that caliber, but because he was in such good shape, he lived. Had he not ran all these years pushing his son in all these races, he would have died before the age of 65. Rick needed Dick all those years for all the races, but in the end, it was Dick that thanked his son Rick for saving his own life.
This is the story of Dick and Rick Hoyt.
This real life story is a true example of unconditional love of a parent. This story touched me deeper than I could have imagined. We all know that our parents love us. We all know our parents would walk on fire for us. We all know that our parents would cut off their right arm for us. We all know the love of our own children, and we can only imagine how Dick felt when the doctors told him and his wife all those years ago that their son would be a vegetable. Rick Hoyt was not a vegetable. Rick Hoyt was not disabled. His father made him able. His father made him live. His father made him feel like he was running, when doctors said he never would.
This is a story of hope. This is a story of determination. This is a story of a father’s love for his son.
That’s my peace today!
Italian style grilled cheese
Thick toast bread
12 slices of provolone cheese
6 slices prosciutto cotto
2 large buffalo mozzarella sliced
1/4 cup butter
12 springs fresh basil
Take 2 slices per sandwich. Add 2 slices provolone, 2 slices of mozzarella and 1 slice of prosciutto and 2 slices of basil. Repeat for all 6 sandwiches. In a heated pan put the butter and add each sandwich, flipping after 3 minutes. Grill until both sides are golden and cheese is melted.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
It's all in the way you see it
This past weekend we made a trip to Montreal to celebrate the Easter holiday. It has been a tradition in my father’s family for the past 44 years. We ventured off on Friday and planned to stay until Monday morning. We wanted to take advantage of also visiting my husband’s family.
We arrived on Friday and we had a very nice weekend with the family. Easter lunch went without a hitch and we all reunited with all of our aunts, uncles, and cousins. We had a wonderful meal and a wonderful weekend filled with family.
On Monday morning we were getting ready to come back home. My husband noticed that the front tires needed some air. As he goes to add air, I hear a panicked husband. Apparently the valve that holds the pin closed at the tire was all corroded. He couldn’t believe what he saw, and as he looked at the other tires, he noticed all 4 tires had the same problem. He began to freak. Apparently if the pin comes out, the whole tire will blow out air at once...obviously not good. The reason why he was angry was because he just brought the car in on Wednesday for a tire rotation to get ready for the long distance drive. It was at that moment that he realized that the dealership did not do their job. When you rotate tires you are supposed to check tire pressure, and if they did that, they would have seen this huge problem. My mommy mobile is not even 2 years old; it should not have this kind of problem.
To fast forward the story, we ended up driving to the closest dealership to get this dangerous problem fixed. We had 4 kids in the car, and the last thing we wanted to do was to take a chance at driving on the 401 with unsafe tires. When we got to the dealership (after driving for over an hour to find it) my husband went into the shop. My kids were already rowdy and fed up. We had already been in the car for almost 2 hours driving, and waiting. My twins were on their second set of clothes and their 4th diaper. The older 2 were fighting because they wanted to choose the next movie. So he comes out...and....it was 12:15 and the only time they were able to squeeze us in....1:30pm!!! Another 1 hour and 15 minutes of waiting, and then at least another hour before the tires were fixed. It started raining so we went t inside, well that didn’t turn out well either. There was a tiny waiting room...with only 4 chairs. 2 were taken and I didn’t think the women waiting would like to be stuck in a tiny room with 4 whining kids.
We made our way back outside, as we were sitting on the bench a man who drove a shuttle service for the dealership asked us if we wanted a ride somewhere. Did we want a ride somewhere????? A yaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! He was able to drive us to my sister-in-laws place. We were there all day; our truck was ready at 4:30p! The mechanic who fixed our car told my husband we made the right decision to get the tires fixed. He told him he had never seen that before and that all 4 tire vales were damaged. We ended up staying in Montreal 1 more night just not to drive at night.
The day was long, and it was pretty annoying. My kids were tried, wanted to get out of the car, and so did I. My first thought when this all happened was, “Oh great, just our luck.” We planned on going home on Monday but as we all know, sometimes things just don’t work out like we plan. I then paused and tried to look at the “good” in all of it. I then thought, “Thank God Franco noticed something was wrong with the tires because it could have been dangerous.” We were saved from something worse. We were lucky enough to be stuck in the dingy, small, dealership waiting room. We were lucky enough to be eating our packed lunch while we were waiting in the rain for our truck to get fixed.
Life is all about these little “lucky” breaks we get. If we take a situation that sucks and look at it from a different angle, it all seems a lot less crappy. Big deal that we lost a day by sitting and waiting, big deal that my kids had 4 dirty diapers within 1 hour, and big deal that I stepped in the mud before getting into my truck. The end result was that my family was safe. The end result is that we got what we needed and we had the right people to help us do that. I guess for a moment on Monday morning I thought our luck was not our way. If I would have seen it for what it was, I would have known in an instant that we were very lucky on Monday morning.
That’s my peace today!
Panzarotti Mushroom Roll
1 pizza dough
2 cups shredded mozzarella
4 cups mixed mushrooms
1/4 olive oil
salt and pepper
1/4 c chopped parsley
1 clove chopped parsley
Cut dough into 6 pieces. Roll out on counter using flour, make as thin as possible. Meanwhile in a pan add oil, garlic and mushrooms, salt and pepper and parsley. Remove from heat. Divide in 6 parts. In centre of dough add mushrooms and 1/ 6th mozzarella, rolling from one end until completely rolled into a log. Place in oven at 425 degrees for 20 minutes or until golden.
We arrived on Friday and we had a very nice weekend with the family. Easter lunch went without a hitch and we all reunited with all of our aunts, uncles, and cousins. We had a wonderful meal and a wonderful weekend filled with family.
On Monday morning we were getting ready to come back home. My husband noticed that the front tires needed some air. As he goes to add air, I hear a panicked husband. Apparently the valve that holds the pin closed at the tire was all corroded. He couldn’t believe what he saw, and as he looked at the other tires, he noticed all 4 tires had the same problem. He began to freak. Apparently if the pin comes out, the whole tire will blow out air at once...obviously not good. The reason why he was angry was because he just brought the car in on Wednesday for a tire rotation to get ready for the long distance drive. It was at that moment that he realized that the dealership did not do their job. When you rotate tires you are supposed to check tire pressure, and if they did that, they would have seen this huge problem. My mommy mobile is not even 2 years old; it should not have this kind of problem.
To fast forward the story, we ended up driving to the closest dealership to get this dangerous problem fixed. We had 4 kids in the car, and the last thing we wanted to do was to take a chance at driving on the 401 with unsafe tires. When we got to the dealership (after driving for over an hour to find it) my husband went into the shop. My kids were already rowdy and fed up. We had already been in the car for almost 2 hours driving, and waiting. My twins were on their second set of clothes and their 4th diaper. The older 2 were fighting because they wanted to choose the next movie. So he comes out...and....it was 12:15 and the only time they were able to squeeze us in....1:30pm!!! Another 1 hour and 15 minutes of waiting, and then at least another hour before the tires were fixed. It started raining so we went t inside, well that didn’t turn out well either. There was a tiny waiting room...with only 4 chairs. 2 were taken and I didn’t think the women waiting would like to be stuck in a tiny room with 4 whining kids.
We made our way back outside, as we were sitting on the bench a man who drove a shuttle service for the dealership asked us if we wanted a ride somewhere. Did we want a ride somewhere????? A yaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! He was able to drive us to my sister-in-laws place. We were there all day; our truck was ready at 4:30p! The mechanic who fixed our car told my husband we made the right decision to get the tires fixed. He told him he had never seen that before and that all 4 tire vales were damaged. We ended up staying in Montreal 1 more night just not to drive at night.
The day was long, and it was pretty annoying. My kids were tried, wanted to get out of the car, and so did I. My first thought when this all happened was, “Oh great, just our luck.” We planned on going home on Monday but as we all know, sometimes things just don’t work out like we plan. I then paused and tried to look at the “good” in all of it. I then thought, “Thank God Franco noticed something was wrong with the tires because it could have been dangerous.” We were saved from something worse. We were lucky enough to be stuck in the dingy, small, dealership waiting room. We were lucky enough to be eating our packed lunch while we were waiting in the rain for our truck to get fixed.
Life is all about these little “lucky” breaks we get. If we take a situation that sucks and look at it from a different angle, it all seems a lot less crappy. Big deal that we lost a day by sitting and waiting, big deal that my kids had 4 dirty diapers within 1 hour, and big deal that I stepped in the mud before getting into my truck. The end result was that my family was safe. The end result is that we got what we needed and we had the right people to help us do that. I guess for a moment on Monday morning I thought our luck was not our way. If I would have seen it for what it was, I would have known in an instant that we were very lucky on Monday morning.
That’s my peace today!
Panzarotti Mushroom Roll
1 pizza dough
2 cups shredded mozzarella
4 cups mixed mushrooms
1/4 olive oil
salt and pepper
1/4 c chopped parsley
1 clove chopped parsley
Cut dough into 6 pieces. Roll out on counter using flour, make as thin as possible. Meanwhile in a pan add oil, garlic and mushrooms, salt and pepper and parsley. Remove from heat. Divide in 6 parts. In centre of dough add mushrooms and 1/ 6th mozzarella, rolling from one end until completely rolled into a log. Place in oven at 425 degrees for 20 minutes or until golden.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
33,945 days
Yesterday my paternal grandmother celebrated her 93rd birthday. She was luckily surrounded by family in Montreal, the city she immigrated to many, many years ago. She was born in Southern Italy in a small town called San Mango D ‘Aquino. She had all 4 children in this small town, in between the time her husband was away at war. Once my grandfather made the decision to move his family to the new land, they all followed.
My grandmother raised her kids in a time when homemade meals were a given, and dresses were sewn from local women. Necessity was food, milk, and the basics. Almost all the meals were made from scratch, while her husband was out at work. She experienced life without Interact, Laptops and Blackberries. She never drove a car, and she never shopped on credit. She made the best of her life, and she made the best of the things she did not have.
My grandmother has 14 grandchildren and 18 great grandchildren. She was married 70 years to the same man, when he sadly left the world almost 3 years ago. She still wakes up every morning, makes herself a coffee, turns on the radio and begins her day. Throughout the day, she makes calls..many, many calls..lol...to her family members and some friends. She hosts people when they come by to visit and she is very quick to make them a coffee, take out some cookies, and on many occasions..make a plate of fried potatoes (drenched in oil...mmmm...just the way we like it..lol) She still makes stuffed eggplants and green tomatoes in the oil.
I did not grow up in the same city as my father’s parents, but I often visited them, especially at Easter. Many years ago, when I was fresh out of College, I moved to Montreal to work at a radio station. Since I was raised in an Italian home, living on my own was unheard of, so I had to live with them, or I stayed home...that was the condition to moving away from home. So at 21, I moved in with my grandparents. I can tell you, besides getting together with my husband, it was 1 of the best summers I ever had. I was able to connect with 2 people that I very rarely spent time with. Every night my grandparents would wait for their “little” girl; with food that was prepared all day long. They were very proud to have the responsibity of “watching” me while I was in Montreal. My grandmother was so serious about her role that she felt it necessary to give me an 11 o’clock curfew..lol..I explained to her that at home, I came home much later than that. She did not care about that, I was living with her and I had to be home at that time..lol..I used to call my own father to tell his mother to loosen up..lol..she still did not budge. So I spent my nights that summer, arriving at 11pm, and then sticking my head out the window smoking my brains out..lol...ahhh the memories.
I am so glad that I was able to spend my 21st summer year with my grandparents. I learned many things that summer. I learned that a grandmother can worry more than a parent does. I learned that the street lights do go out at 11pm,..lol..and I learned that a 79 year old can still make house rules. They taught me that attitude is everything. My grandmother was in her late 70’s and she was still preparing meals every night for me when I got home. They were always happy to see me, always happy to have me, and always happy to share stories of life with me.
The one thing I can tell you is, if you have your grandparents spend time with them. Find out about their life, the challenges they faced and the trials and tribulations they endured. They also have some juicy tales about some of the women in their town.lol..which is kind of interesting because now they are pretty wrinkly and you cannot imagine them being the town Goddess..lol.. I would just sit there and be amazed at all the things they knew. They didn’t know how to Google, and they didn’t know how to text. But they knew how to help a woman in need, a woman who didn’t have enough breast milk to feed her newborn..they would breastfeed that child. They grew up in a time where it was not 1 man for himself; it was, for all mankind. They should feel proud for all they learned in life, that no book could have ever taught them.
Today I wish my father’s mother a Happy 93rd birthday. In life we can only wish of meeting and holding our grandchildren’s children. In life we can only hope that we can be responsible for not only the lives of our children, but for the many more that follow. In life we can only strive to be happy and healthy every God given day. In life we can only hope that we can be surrounded by the people we raised and the people that they raised. In life, we can only dream of living a life almost as long as a century; 33,945 days to be exact.
That’s my peace today!
This recipe is my grandmother's Easter treat she makes for all her kids and grandkids.
Easter Bread Braid
6 eggs
1 pack yeast
1/4 cup olive oil
6 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 cups warm water (maybe more)
flour for dough
Put the yeast in the warm water. Let sit for 10 minutes or until bubbles. In a bowl mix flour, salt, sugar and blend. Make a hole in the middle and add the yeast with water. Mix and gradually add oil. You may need to add more water, the consistency should be like a pizza dough. On a floured surface, roll out dough. Cut a thick strip, make a 4 inch circle at the top of the strip, place egg and nest the egg. At the bottom of the nest, slice into 3 strips and braid it. With the rest of the dough cut into strip and make more braids, attach to the done braid and make 5 more egg nests surrounding. The end result should be a circle of 6 egg nests with braids holding it together...sound simple enough??lol...Buona Pasqua!
My grandmother raised her kids in a time when homemade meals were a given, and dresses were sewn from local women. Necessity was food, milk, and the basics. Almost all the meals were made from scratch, while her husband was out at work. She experienced life without Interact, Laptops and Blackberries. She never drove a car, and she never shopped on credit. She made the best of her life, and she made the best of the things she did not have.
My grandmother has 14 grandchildren and 18 great grandchildren. She was married 70 years to the same man, when he sadly left the world almost 3 years ago. She still wakes up every morning, makes herself a coffee, turns on the radio and begins her day. Throughout the day, she makes calls..many, many calls..lol...to her family members and some friends. She hosts people when they come by to visit and she is very quick to make them a coffee, take out some cookies, and on many occasions..make a plate of fried potatoes (drenched in oil...mmmm...just the way we like it..lol) She still makes stuffed eggplants and green tomatoes in the oil.
I did not grow up in the same city as my father’s parents, but I often visited them, especially at Easter. Many years ago, when I was fresh out of College, I moved to Montreal to work at a radio station. Since I was raised in an Italian home, living on my own was unheard of, so I had to live with them, or I stayed home...that was the condition to moving away from home. So at 21, I moved in with my grandparents. I can tell you, besides getting together with my husband, it was 1 of the best summers I ever had. I was able to connect with 2 people that I very rarely spent time with. Every night my grandparents would wait for their “little” girl; with food that was prepared all day long. They were very proud to have the responsibity of “watching” me while I was in Montreal. My grandmother was so serious about her role that she felt it necessary to give me an 11 o’clock curfew..lol..I explained to her that at home, I came home much later than that. She did not care about that, I was living with her and I had to be home at that time..lol..I used to call my own father to tell his mother to loosen up..lol..she still did not budge. So I spent my nights that summer, arriving at 11pm, and then sticking my head out the window smoking my brains out..lol...ahhh the memories.
I am so glad that I was able to spend my 21st summer year with my grandparents. I learned many things that summer. I learned that a grandmother can worry more than a parent does. I learned that the street lights do go out at 11pm,..lol..and I learned that a 79 year old can still make house rules. They taught me that attitude is everything. My grandmother was in her late 70’s and she was still preparing meals every night for me when I got home. They were always happy to see me, always happy to have me, and always happy to share stories of life with me.
The one thing I can tell you is, if you have your grandparents spend time with them. Find out about their life, the challenges they faced and the trials and tribulations they endured. They also have some juicy tales about some of the women in their town.lol..which is kind of interesting because now they are pretty wrinkly and you cannot imagine them being the town Goddess..lol.. I would just sit there and be amazed at all the things they knew. They didn’t know how to Google, and they didn’t know how to text. But they knew how to help a woman in need, a woman who didn’t have enough breast milk to feed her newborn..they would breastfeed that child. They grew up in a time where it was not 1 man for himself; it was, for all mankind. They should feel proud for all they learned in life, that no book could have ever taught them.
Today I wish my father’s mother a Happy 93rd birthday. In life we can only wish of meeting and holding our grandchildren’s children. In life we can only hope that we can be responsible for not only the lives of our children, but for the many more that follow. In life we can only strive to be happy and healthy every God given day. In life we can only hope that we can be surrounded by the people we raised and the people that they raised. In life, we can only dream of living a life almost as long as a century; 33,945 days to be exact.
That’s my peace today!
This recipe is my grandmother's Easter treat she makes for all her kids and grandkids.
Easter Bread Braid
6 eggs
1 pack yeast
1/4 cup olive oil
6 cups flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 cups warm water (maybe more)
flour for dough
Put the yeast in the warm water. Let sit for 10 minutes or until bubbles. In a bowl mix flour, salt, sugar and blend. Make a hole in the middle and add the yeast with water. Mix and gradually add oil. You may need to add more water, the consistency should be like a pizza dough. On a floured surface, roll out dough. Cut a thick strip, make a 4 inch circle at the top of the strip, place egg and nest the egg. At the bottom of the nest, slice into 3 strips and braid it. With the rest of the dough cut into strip and make more braids, attach to the done braid and make 5 more egg nests surrounding. The end result should be a circle of 6 egg nests with braids holding it together...sound simple enough??lol...Buona Pasqua!
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Pot of Gold
6 years ago today my first daughter was born. It was a cold snowy day in Montreal when I went in to get induced to welcome my second child into the world. My husband and I did not know what we were having, but because I had a son, I assumed my second would be another boy.
The day was long, induction, patocin, epidural..you name it, I was poked with needles. My mother had driven down to be with me for the arrival of my second child. She was waiting all day with me and my husband when she realized that it was time for my son to go to bed. She left and was to hurry back. The nurse told her she had plenty of time because I was still only 4 centimetres dilated. Just a few short 30 minutes later, I had my legs in the stir-ups and the process began. Thankfully, I did not have to push for very long, 10 minutes later and I was about to give my last push. Here I was, ready to welcome in what I thought was going to be, my second son. I was wrong. At 8:42pm (let’s see if any man remembers the time our kids were born..lol), the doctor placed a very squirmy baby on my stomach. When I looked down, I was shocked! "It's a girl"! I cried, my husband cried, and even 1 of the nurses cried..lol (she told me she was so happy for us) and there in that moment, my life changed forever.
I didn’t know how much I wanted a daughter, until she was born. I was raised in a home with all girls so when my son was born, it was a wonderful change. I was used to be a mom to a boy, so I couldn’t imagine being able to experience life with a daughter. Moments later, my mother walked in to see me holding my daughter. She was shocked that she missed the birth; she was shocked that I had a girl. The phone calls began to the family, and in a few minutes everyone knew my little girl was born.
Since then, I have enjoyed all the wonderful things that a daughter brings into your life. PINK...is all I have to say. That is all I bought for the first few months. It is so much fun to buy pink after you have a boy. The dresses, the hair ties, and of course like any good Italian girl...the earrings..lol.
I have to admit, girls are a little more demanding emotionally, than boys are. They need more love, assurance and affection. There is always a little more drama, more tears and a little more laundry, when you have girls. They have a few more catty “issues” at school, and a little more wardrobe malfunctions. They need more shoes, more skirts, and more pretty socks. They need more time in the morning because of their hair and outfits. They love to shop for themselves, and they love to shop for us. They think they have the best advice and they think they got the whole “love” thing down packed. My daughter is convinced she is going to marry Anthony in her class..he just doesn’t know it yet..lol.
My daughter brings me joy, she brings me love and she brings me wonderful fashion tips. She is my little girl that is growing up. She is getting smarter by the day. Maria-Alicia is my oldest daughter. She is 6 years old today and I can’t believe how big she is getting. I want to enjoy these days of her younger years and I want her to as well. Last night before she went to bed I whispered to her, “tonight is the last night you will ever be 5..forever and ever.” She smiled because she was so excited. I paused because I can’t believe that all the days have passed from that snowy day in Montreal when the doctor placed her on my stomach and we all screamed... “It’s a girl!” On March 17th, 2004, I received my very own pot of gold!
That’s my peace today!
Rapini and Sausage Roll
2 bunches rapini boiled and drained and salted
2 Italian sausages (skin removed)
2 cups shredded mozzarella
1 pizza dough
1/4 cup olive oil
Roll out dough on counter as thin as you can get it, brush with oil. Meanwhile in a pan add remaining oil add rapini and crushed garlic and cook for about 7 min, place in bowl. Add sausage and cook for about 15 min (until fully cooked), add to rapini. Spread both sausage, rapini and mozzarella on flat dough (leaving 1/2 on each side of the dough). Start rolling from 1 end as tight as you can until you have a log. Place in preheated oven 425 for about 15-20 minutes. (until bread is lightly browned.
The day was long, induction, patocin, epidural..you name it, I was poked with needles. My mother had driven down to be with me for the arrival of my second child. She was waiting all day with me and my husband when she realized that it was time for my son to go to bed. She left and was to hurry back. The nurse told her she had plenty of time because I was still only 4 centimetres dilated. Just a few short 30 minutes later, I had my legs in the stir-ups and the process began. Thankfully, I did not have to push for very long, 10 minutes later and I was about to give my last push. Here I was, ready to welcome in what I thought was going to be, my second son. I was wrong. At 8:42pm (let’s see if any man remembers the time our kids were born..lol), the doctor placed a very squirmy baby on my stomach. When I looked down, I was shocked! "It's a girl"! I cried, my husband cried, and even 1 of the nurses cried..lol (she told me she was so happy for us) and there in that moment, my life changed forever.
I didn’t know how much I wanted a daughter, until she was born. I was raised in a home with all girls so when my son was born, it was a wonderful change. I was used to be a mom to a boy, so I couldn’t imagine being able to experience life with a daughter. Moments later, my mother walked in to see me holding my daughter. She was shocked that she missed the birth; she was shocked that I had a girl. The phone calls began to the family, and in a few minutes everyone knew my little girl was born.
Since then, I have enjoyed all the wonderful things that a daughter brings into your life. PINK...is all I have to say. That is all I bought for the first few months. It is so much fun to buy pink after you have a boy. The dresses, the hair ties, and of course like any good Italian girl...the earrings..lol.
I have to admit, girls are a little more demanding emotionally, than boys are. They need more love, assurance and affection. There is always a little more drama, more tears and a little more laundry, when you have girls. They have a few more catty “issues” at school, and a little more wardrobe malfunctions. They need more shoes, more skirts, and more pretty socks. They need more time in the morning because of their hair and outfits. They love to shop for themselves, and they love to shop for us. They think they have the best advice and they think they got the whole “love” thing down packed. My daughter is convinced she is going to marry Anthony in her class..he just doesn’t know it yet..lol.
My daughter brings me joy, she brings me love and she brings me wonderful fashion tips. She is my little girl that is growing up. She is getting smarter by the day. Maria-Alicia is my oldest daughter. She is 6 years old today and I can’t believe how big she is getting. I want to enjoy these days of her younger years and I want her to as well. Last night before she went to bed I whispered to her, “tonight is the last night you will ever be 5..forever and ever.” She smiled because she was so excited. I paused because I can’t believe that all the days have passed from that snowy day in Montreal when the doctor placed her on my stomach and we all screamed... “It’s a girl!” On March 17th, 2004, I received my very own pot of gold!
That’s my peace today!
Rapini and Sausage Roll
2 bunches rapini boiled and drained and salted
2 Italian sausages (skin removed)
2 cups shredded mozzarella
1 pizza dough
1/4 cup olive oil
Roll out dough on counter as thin as you can get it, brush with oil. Meanwhile in a pan add remaining oil add rapini and crushed garlic and cook for about 7 min, place in bowl. Add sausage and cook for about 15 min (until fully cooked), add to rapini. Spread both sausage, rapini and mozzarella on flat dough (leaving 1/2 on each side of the dough). Start rolling from 1 end as tight as you can until you have a log. Place in preheated oven 425 for about 15-20 minutes. (until bread is lightly browned.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
It hurts me a lot more than it hurts you
So this is the last time I will write about Joseph and his hockey..lol...I promise. This past weekend we had the semi-finals (we won) and then on Sunday we had the finals. You can tell in the dressing room before the game began, all the kids were very nervous. They made it to the finals and they wanted to win the cup; the championship. When you work really hard at something, the biggest reward is recognition. So anyway, the coach prepped them up with a little chat, and away they went to play the last game of the season.
It was supposed to be an easy game for us. We had played this team in the playoffs and we beat them pretty badly. Our goalie was a lot better than theirs..lol.(wink wink). So the game began and what a game it was. It was one of the most nail biting, stressful games thus far. In the end, they beat us 2-1. 1 goal away from winning first place.
After the game was over, the kids with their heads down, poured into the dressing room, and if I think about their little faces I can just cry. They were all crying, some hysterically, some quietly. There was no room for positive talk, or words of “You guys did great!” They did not want to hear it. I will admit they did not play a strong game; the other team was all over us. We seem to forget that kids are just kids. They were nervous and could not handle the pressure. Our team would normally score at least 3-4 goals a game, but not this game. The only shot they took on the goalie was the only goal we got.
As parents, we never like to see our kids cry, or be sad. As much as we can tell them that they did well, or that we are proud of them, we cannot take the hurt away. All the parents that day were trying their best to take away the tears. The boys were sad and they wanted to be sad. They didn’t look at it that they won second overall (which is awesome), they looked at it that they lost. There was no celebrating “silver”, they wanted “gold”.
The good thing about being a kid is that they are resilient. After an hour of Joseph sulking and feeling sad, and a few tears..ok a lot of tears..lol..and him saying he did not want to be goalie anymore...he was laughing outside. He was still upset and was not thrilled they lost, but he decided he will continue to play in net. I know that is not something I want, but he wants it so I have to support that. We reassured him that he played an awesome game, and that if it was not for him we would have lost 20-1. We had to let him know that he did the best he could, but he was not the whole team. After a few hours we received an email from his coach addressed to him. They were words of encouragement and he explained to Joseph that if it was not for him, they would not have even made it to the finals. That made Joseph feel proud again, and confident again.
Parents are always there to wipe away the tears from their kid’s faces. They are always there to offer words of love and encouragement, and they are always there to see the bright side of things. Even though we hurt more than they do. Even though we feel like crying a lot harder for them, and even though we want more for them than they do. We must be strong, we must be teachers, and we must be leaders. We must show them that life is what you make it, life is how you see it, and life is full of the next best opportunity. So when Joseph said to me, “Mommy why aren’t you upset that we lost?” I wanted to scream out and cry with him, and hold his tiny little body and comfort him, but that’s not my job. My job is to stay strong, show him that it should be just for fun and to not take it to heart. I really wanted to respond to my little baby, “Oh Joseph, I feel so horrible you guys lost.” I wanted to tell him that it hurt me a lot more, than it hurt him, but I couldn’t.... because that’s not my job to do.
That’s my peace today!
Steak Sandwich
3-4 strip loin steaks cut into thin strips
2 red peppers cut into strips
1 whole onion cut thinly
2 cups sliced mushrooms
6-8 slices provolone cheese
olive oil for frying
6 italian buns
shredded lettuce and chopped tomatoes (optional)
Add 5 tbsp oil to pan and add steak, salt and pepper. Fry for about 5-7 minutes remove from pan. Add all veggies, add 2 tbsp oil to pan, fry for 7-8 minutes. Slice open buns stuff with steak and veggies, add sliced cheese. Put on a baking pan and broil in oven for 6 minutes at 400 degrees. Add lettuce and tomato(optional)
It was supposed to be an easy game for us. We had played this team in the playoffs and we beat them pretty badly. Our goalie was a lot better than theirs..lol.(wink wink). So the game began and what a game it was. It was one of the most nail biting, stressful games thus far. In the end, they beat us 2-1. 1 goal away from winning first place.
After the game was over, the kids with their heads down, poured into the dressing room, and if I think about their little faces I can just cry. They were all crying, some hysterically, some quietly. There was no room for positive talk, or words of “You guys did great!” They did not want to hear it. I will admit they did not play a strong game; the other team was all over us. We seem to forget that kids are just kids. They were nervous and could not handle the pressure. Our team would normally score at least 3-4 goals a game, but not this game. The only shot they took on the goalie was the only goal we got.
As parents, we never like to see our kids cry, or be sad. As much as we can tell them that they did well, or that we are proud of them, we cannot take the hurt away. All the parents that day were trying their best to take away the tears. The boys were sad and they wanted to be sad. They didn’t look at it that they won second overall (which is awesome), they looked at it that they lost. There was no celebrating “silver”, they wanted “gold”.
The good thing about being a kid is that they are resilient. After an hour of Joseph sulking and feeling sad, and a few tears..ok a lot of tears..lol..and him saying he did not want to be goalie anymore...he was laughing outside. He was still upset and was not thrilled they lost, but he decided he will continue to play in net. I know that is not something I want, but he wants it so I have to support that. We reassured him that he played an awesome game, and that if it was not for him we would have lost 20-1. We had to let him know that he did the best he could, but he was not the whole team. After a few hours we received an email from his coach addressed to him. They were words of encouragement and he explained to Joseph that if it was not for him, they would not have even made it to the finals. That made Joseph feel proud again, and confident again.
Parents are always there to wipe away the tears from their kid’s faces. They are always there to offer words of love and encouragement, and they are always there to see the bright side of things. Even though we hurt more than they do. Even though we feel like crying a lot harder for them, and even though we want more for them than they do. We must be strong, we must be teachers, and we must be leaders. We must show them that life is what you make it, life is how you see it, and life is full of the next best opportunity. So when Joseph said to me, “Mommy why aren’t you upset that we lost?” I wanted to scream out and cry with him, and hold his tiny little body and comfort him, but that’s not my job. My job is to stay strong, show him that it should be just for fun and to not take it to heart. I really wanted to respond to my little baby, “Oh Joseph, I feel so horrible you guys lost.” I wanted to tell him that it hurt me a lot more, than it hurt him, but I couldn’t.... because that’s not my job to do.
That’s my peace today!
Steak Sandwich
3-4 strip loin steaks cut into thin strips
2 red peppers cut into strips
1 whole onion cut thinly
2 cups sliced mushrooms
6-8 slices provolone cheese
olive oil for frying
6 italian buns
shredded lettuce and chopped tomatoes (optional)
Add 5 tbsp oil to pan and add steak, salt and pepper. Fry for about 5-7 minutes remove from pan. Add all veggies, add 2 tbsp oil to pan, fry for 7-8 minutes. Slice open buns stuff with steak and veggies, add sliced cheese. Put on a baking pan and broil in oven for 6 minutes at 400 degrees. Add lettuce and tomato(optional)
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