Dear Bella Nonna,
I am worried my three year-old son might be hearing impaired. Sometimes when I call his name, I get no response. He will be playing on the floor not four feet from me and I will call his name and he just keeps on playing. He doesn't even look up. I had heard stories of mothers depriving their children of precious learning experiences by not realizing they were hearing impaired.
I mentioned this to his pediatrician at our last visit and she dismissed me with a wave of her hand and a grunt," New mothers… you all worry too much. Relax, he's fine."
I trust my son's doctor, but I still have this nagging feeling that something might not be right.
What do you think I should do?
Worried in Washington
Dearest Worried,
I went through the exact experience with my three sons. I would try to get their attention and they would often keep right on playing as if I wasn't there.
When Mickey was a toddler I decided to do my own hearing test. One day while he was playing in the living room, I went into the kitchen and opened a bag of cookies. Within seconds he came running in to get one for himself.
I have used this hearing test throughout my three sons' childhood. In fact, I just used it today. While they were outside working on their cars, the radio blasting, I went into the kitchen and opened up the last package of Tastykake. I am happy to report; all three of my sons have excellent hearing.
Take care,
Bella Nonna
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
The Campaign Speech
Grab your coat… I am heading off to the new high school. Jamila Williams just called to tell me Angelina McGuire is going to run for some sort of office. She is announcing it at the school board meeting tonight. Jamila said that Angelina is all fired up and that her campaign speech is going to be inspiring.
Great we are just in time; Angelina is up next. Let’s grab those two chairs on the left next to that exit door… in case we need to make a quick get-away.
Hello everyone, I am Angelina McGuire. I would like to climb up on my fertilizer bag and throw my potholder into the ring. I feel it is about time we address the issue of yet another species that is being driven to extinction… the stay-at-home mom. She is being slowly fazed-out, taken for granted and told she is obsolete. Her presence has been disappearing from our homes and our lives at an alarming rate.
I know many of you are probably saying to yourselves… No she’s not… She is at home right now… probably in the kitchen.
Is she? Have you taken a look lately? She is gone. The microwave, dishwasher and readymade flash frozen preservative laden somewhat edible food-like products have replaced her.
Now you are probably think … Well if she isn’t in the kitchen she must be in the family room listening to the children telling her about their day or maybe helping them with homework. She could be playing a game or building a puzzle. I know she use to love doing that.
Nope, she is not there either. I only see plush Italian leather furniture, a complete home entertainment center with Dolby Surround Sound, a video game console, a few dirty cups and an empty potato chip bag.
Some of you might be heading to your children’s bedrooms expecting her to be there getting them ready for bed. She will be putting them into their jammies, singing lullabies and telling them bedtime stories.
Let me save you the trip. All you will find is a perfectly decorated room with hardwood furniture and matching bedding and curtains that took three stores and two credit cards to pull off. You will probably find a CD player, personal computer and toys that do everything… including telling your children the bedtime stories she use to tell.
I can hear you all saying to yourselves… If we didn’t notice she was gone, she probable wasn’t all that important. So get off that fertilizer bag and spread it around your garden where it will do some good.
I will, but before I climb down I would like to ask how many of you remember how nice it was to have someone at home to greet you when you came home from school? I remember the huge smile on my mother’s face when I came bursting in with some great news or how comforting her hugs were when someone hurt my feelings. Do you remember how warm and cozy the kitchen was when your mom was baking a pie or some gooey chocolate chip cookies? When you get home and open your front door after a hard day, don’t you wish you could be greeted by the smell of dinner cooking in the oven? Ahhh…. memories.
Unfortunately some of you won’t remember these things because you didn’t have a stay at home mom. But don’t despair; it is not too late. You can save the stay-at-home mom and make these wonderful memories with your children. You may not be wealthy but you will be happy and enrich your life.
Oh… the oven timer just went off. I’ll climb down now. May I have my potholder back? I need it to take the cake out of the oven.
Thanks for listening and please pick up a flyer from the table in the back of the auditorium.
Dear Friends,
Today you have the opportunity to help not one, but two generations of people trying to survive in this modern world. Due to a fast pace life, with its many distractions, we have put a very important part of life on hold. We have misplaced our priorities in our quest to make our lives better… and are paying a very high price for it. Our society has misinformed us. Convincing us that we can have it all… money, power and respect. All we have to do is be willing to work for it. Unfortunately, in the process of “working for it”, we have traded the joy of a child’s laughter for the high quality sound of our IPod, the look on our baby’s face when they take their first steps for the clarity of our high definition televisions, the thrill and excitement of watching our children ride a bike without training wheels, hit a home run, score a touchdown, bake their first cake and finally make it to the top of the monkey bars for the thrill and excitement of closing the deal, doubling our profit and having a great stock portfolio. These are memories and experiences we will never get back.
My dear friends, we are human BEINGS. We need to take the time to just be. I know some of you are saying to yourselves, time is money, I can’t waste it playing. If you are measuring your life in terms of dollars and cents… I guess you are right. But if you choose to measure your life in terms of happiness and cherished memories, then the time you spend with your children is priceless.
For just minutes a day, the time it takes to play one game of cyber solitaire, you can make a difference in your child’s life. You can make YOUR world a brighter, happier, more loving place to live in… and will have memories that will last a lifetime.
So, won’t you please help? Make the commitment today. They are depending on YOU.
Wishing you love, laughter and many happy memories,
Angelina McGuire
----------------------------------------------------
Yes Angelina, I will help make a difference in my child’s life.
Enclose is my pledge to spend more time with my children.
I PLEDGE TO SPEND:
_____ Minutes a week reading a book to them.
_____ Minutes a week playing a game with them.
_____ Minutes a week talking with them.
_____ Minutes a week listening to them.
____A lifetime loving, laughing and enjoying life with them.
Great we are just in time; Angelina is up next. Let’s grab those two chairs on the left next to that exit door… in case we need to make a quick get-away.
Hello everyone, I am Angelina McGuire. I would like to climb up on my fertilizer bag and throw my potholder into the ring. I feel it is about time we address the issue of yet another species that is being driven to extinction… the stay-at-home mom. She is being slowly fazed-out, taken for granted and told she is obsolete. Her presence has been disappearing from our homes and our lives at an alarming rate.
I know many of you are probably saying to yourselves… No she’s not… She is at home right now… probably in the kitchen.
Is she? Have you taken a look lately? She is gone. The microwave, dishwasher and readymade flash frozen preservative laden somewhat edible food-like products have replaced her.
Now you are probably think … Well if she isn’t in the kitchen she must be in the family room listening to the children telling her about their day or maybe helping them with homework. She could be playing a game or building a puzzle. I know she use to love doing that.
Nope, she is not there either. I only see plush Italian leather furniture, a complete home entertainment center with Dolby Surround Sound, a video game console, a few dirty cups and an empty potato chip bag.
Some of you might be heading to your children’s bedrooms expecting her to be there getting them ready for bed. She will be putting them into their jammies, singing lullabies and telling them bedtime stories.
Let me save you the trip. All you will find is a perfectly decorated room with hardwood furniture and matching bedding and curtains that took three stores and two credit cards to pull off. You will probably find a CD player, personal computer and toys that do everything… including telling your children the bedtime stories she use to tell.
I can hear you all saying to yourselves… If we didn’t notice she was gone, she probable wasn’t all that important. So get off that fertilizer bag and spread it around your garden where it will do some good.
I will, but before I climb down I would like to ask how many of you remember how nice it was to have someone at home to greet you when you came home from school? I remember the huge smile on my mother’s face when I came bursting in with some great news or how comforting her hugs were when someone hurt my feelings. Do you remember how warm and cozy the kitchen was when your mom was baking a pie or some gooey chocolate chip cookies? When you get home and open your front door after a hard day, don’t you wish you could be greeted by the smell of dinner cooking in the oven? Ahhh…. memories.
Unfortunately some of you won’t remember these things because you didn’t have a stay at home mom. But don’t despair; it is not too late. You can save the stay-at-home mom and make these wonderful memories with your children. You may not be wealthy but you will be happy and enrich your life.
Oh… the oven timer just went off. I’ll climb down now. May I have my potholder back? I need it to take the cake out of the oven.
Thanks for listening and please pick up a flyer from the table in the back of the auditorium.
Dear Friends,
Today you have the opportunity to help not one, but two generations of people trying to survive in this modern world. Due to a fast pace life, with its many distractions, we have put a very important part of life on hold. We have misplaced our priorities in our quest to make our lives better… and are paying a very high price for it. Our society has misinformed us. Convincing us that we can have it all… money, power and respect. All we have to do is be willing to work for it. Unfortunately, in the process of “working for it”, we have traded the joy of a child’s laughter for the high quality sound of our IPod, the look on our baby’s face when they take their first steps for the clarity of our high definition televisions, the thrill and excitement of watching our children ride a bike without training wheels, hit a home run, score a touchdown, bake their first cake and finally make it to the top of the monkey bars for the thrill and excitement of closing the deal, doubling our profit and having a great stock portfolio. These are memories and experiences we will never get back.
My dear friends, we are human BEINGS. We need to take the time to just be. I know some of you are saying to yourselves, time is money, I can’t waste it playing. If you are measuring your life in terms of dollars and cents… I guess you are right. But if you choose to measure your life in terms of happiness and cherished memories, then the time you spend with your children is priceless.
For just minutes a day, the time it takes to play one game of cyber solitaire, you can make a difference in your child’s life. You can make YOUR world a brighter, happier, more loving place to live in… and will have memories that will last a lifetime.
So, won’t you please help? Make the commitment today. They are depending on YOU.
Wishing you love, laughter and many happy memories,
Angelina McGuire
----------------------------------------------------
Yes Angelina, I will help make a difference in my child’s life.
Enclose is my pledge to spend more time with my children.
I PLEDGE TO SPEND:
_____ Minutes a week reading a book to them.
_____ Minutes a week playing a game with them.
_____ Minutes a week talking with them.
_____ Minutes a week listening to them.
____A lifetime loving, laughing and enjoying life with them.
Friday, October 29, 2010
The Pendulum Has Swung
Hello Willa, how are you doing on this beautiful autumn day?
I am pretty good Bella Nonna… I got my aches and pains but what's the use in complaining… everyone else seems to be doing enough of that. I was at the County Fair last week and all I heard was how rough parents have it with their children now a days. The way they yell at their children… it's heartbreaking.
I know what you mean Willa, for generations parents have uttered those threatening words "just wait until you have children of your own!" They have cursed their children with so many plagues and misfortunes; it's a wonder the human race is still in existence. I guess it's a good thing children rarely listen to their parent.
Although, over the past several years Willa I have noticed a trend; I find it is not the parents who are issuing the threats, but their children.
Really Bella Nonna…I hadn't noticed?
Oh yes, I heard a seven-year old child tearfully exclaim, "Just wait until I have children of my own and I'm reading them a bedtime story and you want me to sit outside with you and watch the sun set... I'll be the one saying not now... I'm too busy!"
Then three weeks ago while unclogging the mower deck of my garden tractor I heard my neighbor’s sixteen-year old son rattle off this threat, "Fine Dad, you don't have to teach me to drive. But one day I'm gonna have a son of my own and I’m going to teach him how to drive so HE can drive YOU to the old age home."
Just last week Carmen told me her fourteen-year old step-daughter issued this threat, "This is what I've made for dinner. When you start making the dinners, then YOU can decide what we're gonna eat... until then you have two choices...eat it or starve!"
I had no idea that this was happening Bella Nonna … but now that you mention it when I was at the library I watched in amazement as a frustration five-year old boy tried to zipper up his jacket. He kept pleading with his father to help him, but his father just kept reading his newspaper. After about fifteen minutes of unsuccessful trying, the little guy squared his shoulders and exploded, "FINE... the next time I'm reading my Ranger Rick magazine and you need help getting to the next level of your video game, don't expect ME to be there for YOU!" I don't think the little boy's father would have paid any attention to him if the librarian hadn't asked the man to keep his son quiet.
Willa, I have heard many threats being issued throughout my life… some were funny, some were frightening and some made absolutely no sense at all. In fact I thought I had heard them all until just last week while I was taking a walk, I saw a sweet little eighteen-month-old baby standing in the middle of her yard. A beautiful rainbow aura was surrounding her... I'm not sure if it was caused by her inner-spirit or an over loaded disposable diaper. As I was approaching her house I could hear her babbling away at the top of her lungs. How cute and what a vocabulary, I thought. But as I was passing her house I realized she was not babbling... she was setting forth a curse like you wouldn't believe.
"May your tummy come un-tucked in the middle of an important board meeting. May the FDA outlaw Botox and your face end up looking like a Shar-Pei. May you be forced to wear your adult diaper until it has enough tinkle in it to fill the Grand Canyon!" I wasn’t able to hear the rest of her threat because a thunderstorm suddenly came upon us and I had to hightail it back home… at least I think it was a thunderstorm.
Bella Nonna, do you remember when it was the parents that made the rules? What has happened? Somehow parents have lost their children's respect and faith in their wisdom. Why have adults become comfortable with the role of the buffoon in the TV programs children watch? When did letting a child run roughshod over your life become the norm? As a teenager I looked forward to the future with hope and excitement... now that I am here ... I'm not so sure. Parents better stepping up to the plate and start taking responsibility for their obligations to their children. They are not "toys", but precious lives that they were blessed with. It is time for these parents to grow up and shed their selfish ways. I know I sound preachy, but if the human race is to have a future we all better take care of the present generation.
I am pretty good Bella Nonna… I got my aches and pains but what's the use in complaining… everyone else seems to be doing enough of that. I was at the County Fair last week and all I heard was how rough parents have it with their children now a days. The way they yell at their children… it's heartbreaking.
I know what you mean Willa, for generations parents have uttered those threatening words "just wait until you have children of your own!" They have cursed their children with so many plagues and misfortunes; it's a wonder the human race is still in existence. I guess it's a good thing children rarely listen to their parent.
Although, over the past several years Willa I have noticed a trend; I find it is not the parents who are issuing the threats, but their children.
Really Bella Nonna…I hadn't noticed?
Oh yes, I heard a seven-year old child tearfully exclaim, "Just wait until I have children of my own and I'm reading them a bedtime story and you want me to sit outside with you and watch the sun set... I'll be the one saying not now... I'm too busy!"
Then three weeks ago while unclogging the mower deck of my garden tractor I heard my neighbor’s sixteen-year old son rattle off this threat, "Fine Dad, you don't have to teach me to drive. But one day I'm gonna have a son of my own and I’m going to teach him how to drive so HE can drive YOU to the old age home."
Just last week Carmen told me her fourteen-year old step-daughter issued this threat, "This is what I've made for dinner. When you start making the dinners, then YOU can decide what we're gonna eat... until then you have two choices...eat it or starve!"
I had no idea that this was happening Bella Nonna … but now that you mention it when I was at the library I watched in amazement as a frustration five-year old boy tried to zipper up his jacket. He kept pleading with his father to help him, but his father just kept reading his newspaper. After about fifteen minutes of unsuccessful trying, the little guy squared his shoulders and exploded, "FINE... the next time I'm reading my Ranger Rick magazine and you need help getting to the next level of your video game, don't expect ME to be there for YOU!" I don't think the little boy's father would have paid any attention to him if the librarian hadn't asked the man to keep his son quiet.
Willa, I have heard many threats being issued throughout my life… some were funny, some were frightening and some made absolutely no sense at all. In fact I thought I had heard them all until just last week while I was taking a walk, I saw a sweet little eighteen-month-old baby standing in the middle of her yard. A beautiful rainbow aura was surrounding her... I'm not sure if it was caused by her inner-spirit or an over loaded disposable diaper. As I was approaching her house I could hear her babbling away at the top of her lungs. How cute and what a vocabulary, I thought. But as I was passing her house I realized she was not babbling... she was setting forth a curse like you wouldn't believe.
"May your tummy come un-tucked in the middle of an important board meeting. May the FDA outlaw Botox and your face end up looking like a Shar-Pei. May you be forced to wear your adult diaper until it has enough tinkle in it to fill the Grand Canyon!" I wasn’t able to hear the rest of her threat because a thunderstorm suddenly came upon us and I had to hightail it back home… at least I think it was a thunderstorm.
Bella Nonna, do you remember when it was the parents that made the rules? What has happened? Somehow parents have lost their children's respect and faith in their wisdom. Why have adults become comfortable with the role of the buffoon in the TV programs children watch? When did letting a child run roughshod over your life become the norm? As a teenager I looked forward to the future with hope and excitement... now that I am here ... I'm not so sure. Parents better stepping up to the plate and start taking responsibility for their obligations to their children. They are not "toys", but precious lives that they were blessed with. It is time for these parents to grow up and shed their selfish ways. I know I sound preachy, but if the human race is to have a future we all better take care of the present generation.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Ask Bella Nonna
Dear Bella Nonna,
My three year old son refuses to potty train completely. He, for the most part, has mastered making poopy in the potty… but will not go pee pee in the potty. I have followed all the suggestions in all of my parenting books… from keeping track of when he drinks liquids to when he become wet to putting a bull's-eye in the bowl of the toilet. Please help…I am at my wits end and up to my waist in dirty laundry.
Soggy in Saskatchewan
Dearest Soggy,
I know potty training can be very frustrating, having raised three sons of my own. My first bit of advice is to relax… I was going to suggest you take a deep breath but considering your current situation I'm afraid you might pass out from the toxic fumes.
Speaking of toxic fumes… Did you know that bleach mixed with little boy tinkle will produce a noxious gas? I nearly killed myself the first time I did a load of dirty diapers. I put the diapers into the washer, filled it with very hot water and as the washer agitated the diapers I poured in a generous cup of chlorine bleach. Within seconds my eyes started tearing and my lungs burned with each inhale… I flung the lid of the washer shut and literally crawled gagging and coughing out of the laundry room.
Okay, back to your problem. I have a secret to potty training that has been handed down from generation to generation. I call it the free-range method of potty training. This method of potty training can be started as early as 21 months of age.
On a warm sunny day dress your toddler in "big boy" undies and a T-shirt and let him play outside. When you notice "nature" about to call calmly ask if he has to go potty. Gently, but quickly, take him to the potty and let him go. If your bathroom is on the second floor of your house it would be helpful to have potty-chair close by.
Make sure you praise him for "holding it" until he got to the potty, as well as, after he has gone. Don't worry if you miss the warning signs and he has an accident. This helps your baby understand the concept of "having to go potty" by letting him see, as well as feel, what is happening to his little body.
Because there is less "mess" to clean up after an accident, you will find this method less stressful on you and your child.
My three year old son refuses to potty train completely. He, for the most part, has mastered making poopy in the potty… but will not go pee pee in the potty. I have followed all the suggestions in all of my parenting books… from keeping track of when he drinks liquids to when he become wet to putting a bull's-eye in the bowl of the toilet. Please help…I am at my wits end and up to my waist in dirty laundry.
Soggy in Saskatchewan
Dearest Soggy,
I know potty training can be very frustrating, having raised three sons of my own. My first bit of advice is to relax… I was going to suggest you take a deep breath but considering your current situation I'm afraid you might pass out from the toxic fumes.
Speaking of toxic fumes… Did you know that bleach mixed with little boy tinkle will produce a noxious gas? I nearly killed myself the first time I did a load of dirty diapers. I put the diapers into the washer, filled it with very hot water and as the washer agitated the diapers I poured in a generous cup of chlorine bleach. Within seconds my eyes started tearing and my lungs burned with each inhale… I flung the lid of the washer shut and literally crawled gagging and coughing out of the laundry room.
Okay, back to your problem. I have a secret to potty training that has been handed down from generation to generation. I call it the free-range method of potty training. This method of potty training can be started as early as 21 months of age.
On a warm sunny day dress your toddler in "big boy" undies and a T-shirt and let him play outside. When you notice "nature" about to call calmly ask if he has to go potty. Gently, but quickly, take him to the potty and let him go. If your bathroom is on the second floor of your house it would be helpful to have potty-chair close by.
Make sure you praise him for "holding it" until he got to the potty, as well as, after he has gone. Don't worry if you miss the warning signs and he has an accident. This helps your baby understand the concept of "having to go potty" by letting him see, as well as feel, what is happening to his little body.
Because there is less "mess" to clean up after an accident, you will find this method less stressful on you and your child.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Out In The Sun Too Long
I just had the weirdest dream. I dreamt the cast from the Wizard of Oz was running amuck in my ‘Garden of Weedin'.
Do you want to hear about it? Ok, get comfortable… Here goes.
I was walking back to my garden to do a little weeding when I came across The Cowardly Lion. He was standing in a field of dandelions frantically crying "pullem up…pullem up!" I told him I had a fancy tool that pull up dandelions by their root in the shed and I would gladly get it for him.
On the way to the shed I found Glenda, the Good Witch of the North, standing over my herb garden trying to decide if the caterpillar munching away on the parsley was a garden pest or a future butterfly. She kept asking it, "Are you a good worm or a bad worm?" I had a Farmer's Guide to Garden Pests book inside the house and offered to go and get it for her just as soon as I got the tool for the Cowardly Lion.
I continued on with my quest to get the dandelion tool when I saw The Scarecrow sitting on my back steps. He was soulfully singing, "I could do a lotta prunin', some cuttin' and dead headin' if I could only find my shears."
Just then The Tin Woodsman called out, "Oil can…oil can! I found your garden shears Scarecrow. You left them out in the rain again."
I told them about The Cowardly Lion's dilemma and they offer to take the dandelion tool over to him and give him a little help. I got the gardening book and gave it to Glenda. She said she could handle things from here and to go back to what I was doing. So off to my veggie garden I went.
To my horror, I found The Wicked Witch of the West gobbling up everything in sight. She kept cackling, "I'm gonna pick you my pretty and eatch too!"
I called to Dorothy for help, but she just stood there holding her little dog and crying, "Toto, I don't think we're gonna be cannin' anymore."
The next thing I knew, my little munchkins were calling for me. It was time for me to get up and make breakfast.
I guess my mother wasn't kidding when she told me to always wear a hat when you're out in the sun.
Before I go I'd like to leave you with a little piece of advice.... when life gets you down remember… there's no place like a garden…there's no place like a garden…there's no place like a garden.
Do you want to hear about it? Ok, get comfortable… Here goes.
I was walking back to my garden to do a little weeding when I came across The Cowardly Lion. He was standing in a field of dandelions frantically crying "pullem up…pullem up!" I told him I had a fancy tool that pull up dandelions by their root in the shed and I would gladly get it for him.
On the way to the shed I found Glenda, the Good Witch of the North, standing over my herb garden trying to decide if the caterpillar munching away on the parsley was a garden pest or a future butterfly. She kept asking it, "Are you a good worm or a bad worm?" I had a Farmer's Guide to Garden Pests book inside the house and offered to go and get it for her just as soon as I got the tool for the Cowardly Lion.
I continued on with my quest to get the dandelion tool when I saw The Scarecrow sitting on my back steps. He was soulfully singing, "I could do a lotta prunin', some cuttin' and dead headin' if I could only find my shears."
Just then The Tin Woodsman called out, "Oil can…oil can! I found your garden shears Scarecrow. You left them out in the rain again."
I told them about The Cowardly Lion's dilemma and they offer to take the dandelion tool over to him and give him a little help. I got the gardening book and gave it to Glenda. She said she could handle things from here and to go back to what I was doing. So off to my veggie garden I went.
To my horror, I found The Wicked Witch of the West gobbling up everything in sight. She kept cackling, "I'm gonna pick you my pretty and eatch too!"
I called to Dorothy for help, but she just stood there holding her little dog and crying, "Toto, I don't think we're gonna be cannin' anymore."
The next thing I knew, my little munchkins were calling for me. It was time for me to get up and make breakfast.
I guess my mother wasn't kidding when she told me to always wear a hat when you're out in the sun.
Before I go I'd like to leave you with a little piece of advice.... when life gets you down remember… there's no place like a garden…there's no place like a garden…there's no place like a garden.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Is It A Guy Thing?
Alisa so nice to see you…
Hi Bella Nonna, how are you today?
I am doing well… thanks for asking. How are you? You look a little frazzled.
Oh, I'm fine… it just the boys have me going a little crazy.
Come in and tell me all about it.
Bella Nonna it is not my intention to offend all those thoughtful and considerate guys out there that are totally innocent of this offence, nor do I mean to infer that this is only a guy thing, but being the only female in a house full of males I know that I alone am completely innocent of this heinous crime.
What is this horrible crime of which I speak you might ask?
It's leaving the last little tiny minuscule amount of something in a container.
I am solely responsible for the hunting and gathering in my family... a job that I do not take lightly. For years I have prided myself on always having the staples in our home in spite of our financial circumstances.
Now that my guys are older and our finances are on the rise, you would think that our food supply would always be in abundance.
Today I decided to follow Oprah's advice and not only eat breakfast, something I'm ashamed to admit I rarely do, but to make it special. I went into my china cabinet and took out one of my "for special company only" crystal salad bowls and a silver teaspoon. I lovingly placed them on the kitchen counter and went into the pantry to get the box of Frosted Mini Wheat. I opened the box and poured the contents into my bowl, out tumbled three mutilated little biscuits and a pile of shredded wheat. Thank goodness I was using one of my "for special company only" crystal bowls, I was able to overcome my disappointment and continue on with my special "I owe it to myself" breakfast.
Even with the sun glistening all around my bowl, the cereal looked lost. I decided to add in some raisins. I opened up the cupboard door and lift out the canister of raisins. When I lifted off the lid I found a single raisin residing inside. I added this pitiful contribution to my bowl.
Still determined to have a full bowl of food, I headed for my supply of nuts. Apparently the gerbils had called dibs on all but four almonds and a bunch of walnut dust.
You might think that having an almost empty cereal bowl and an over-loaded trash bag would have dampened my resolve, but it didn't. I looked at my beautiful bowl with its meager contents and headed to the refrigerator for some milk. Yep, you guessed it. The bottle held about an eyedropper full of milk.
For years I overlooked potato chip bags with two chips in them, ice cream container with only a spoonful left and empty Tastykake boxes left on the shelf telling myself, "It's for the best... I didn't need the calories".
I have replaced empty toilet tissue rolls and tissue boxes with a sigh..."It's all in a day work".
I tried to be a good sport when I went to the refrigerator for some lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers to make a salad for Sunday dinner and found the crisper empty leaving me no alternative but run out in the pouring rain in my church clothes to collect some from the garden.
When I found the shampoo bottle empty and was forced to use hand soap to wash my hair, did I complain? Okay, I did. But who could blame me...my hair ended up looking like straw.
Will someone kindly explain this phenomenon to me? Is this a question of nature versus nurture? Am I expecting too much from the men in my life... are they incapable of throwing things away by themselves?
I threw the contents of my cereal bowl out to the birds and decide to take a walk to ponder these questions. I guess I just subconsciously headed to your house looking for the answers. You are living in an all male household… I was hoping you could reassure me that my guys will outgrow this behavior.
You poor baby… I know how you feel. When my sons were little I always knew what I had on hand, but ever since they became teenagers everything in the house mysteriously disappears.
Alisa, you never had your special breakfast…let me make you an omelet.
ALRIGHT…WHO LEFT THE EMPTY EGG CARTON IN THE REFRIGERATOR?
Hi Bella Nonna, how are you today?
I am doing well… thanks for asking. How are you? You look a little frazzled.
Oh, I'm fine… it just the boys have me going a little crazy.
Come in and tell me all about it.
Bella Nonna it is not my intention to offend all those thoughtful and considerate guys out there that are totally innocent of this offence, nor do I mean to infer that this is only a guy thing, but being the only female in a house full of males I know that I alone am completely innocent of this heinous crime.
What is this horrible crime of which I speak you might ask?
It's leaving the last little tiny minuscule amount of something in a container.
I am solely responsible for the hunting and gathering in my family... a job that I do not take lightly. For years I have prided myself on always having the staples in our home in spite of our financial circumstances.
Now that my guys are older and our finances are on the rise, you would think that our food supply would always be in abundance.
Today I decided to follow Oprah's advice and not only eat breakfast, something I'm ashamed to admit I rarely do, but to make it special. I went into my china cabinet and took out one of my "for special company only" crystal salad bowls and a silver teaspoon. I lovingly placed them on the kitchen counter and went into the pantry to get the box of Frosted Mini Wheat. I opened the box and poured the contents into my bowl, out tumbled three mutilated little biscuits and a pile of shredded wheat. Thank goodness I was using one of my "for special company only" crystal bowls, I was able to overcome my disappointment and continue on with my special "I owe it to myself" breakfast.
Even with the sun glistening all around my bowl, the cereal looked lost. I decided to add in some raisins. I opened up the cupboard door and lift out the canister of raisins. When I lifted off the lid I found a single raisin residing inside. I added this pitiful contribution to my bowl.
Still determined to have a full bowl of food, I headed for my supply of nuts. Apparently the gerbils had called dibs on all but four almonds and a bunch of walnut dust.
You might think that having an almost empty cereal bowl and an over-loaded trash bag would have dampened my resolve, but it didn't. I looked at my beautiful bowl with its meager contents and headed to the refrigerator for some milk. Yep, you guessed it. The bottle held about an eyedropper full of milk.
For years I overlooked potato chip bags with two chips in them, ice cream container with only a spoonful left and empty Tastykake boxes left on the shelf telling myself, "It's for the best... I didn't need the calories".
I have replaced empty toilet tissue rolls and tissue boxes with a sigh..."It's all in a day work".
I tried to be a good sport when I went to the refrigerator for some lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers to make a salad for Sunday dinner and found the crisper empty leaving me no alternative but run out in the pouring rain in my church clothes to collect some from the garden.
When I found the shampoo bottle empty and was forced to use hand soap to wash my hair, did I complain? Okay, I did. But who could blame me...my hair ended up looking like straw.
Will someone kindly explain this phenomenon to me? Is this a question of nature versus nurture? Am I expecting too much from the men in my life... are they incapable of throwing things away by themselves?
I threw the contents of my cereal bowl out to the birds and decide to take a walk to ponder these questions. I guess I just subconsciously headed to your house looking for the answers. You are living in an all male household… I was hoping you could reassure me that my guys will outgrow this behavior.
You poor baby… I know how you feel. When my sons were little I always knew what I had on hand, but ever since they became teenagers everything in the house mysteriously disappears.
Alisa, you never had your special breakfast…let me make you an omelet.
ALRIGHT…WHO LEFT THE EMPTY EGG CARTON IN THE REFRIGERATOR?
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Strength of Thousands
Put the kettle on Bella Nonna have I got a story to tell you!
Bernadette, it is 3:00 am!
I know Bella Nonna, I am sorry to wake you so early but I can’t sleep. I am too… blah… how can I describe it? I’m upset, guilty, excited, shook-up, and pissed-off… AACK my adrenaline is pumping so fast. I ran all the way here.
Okay Bernadette calm down I will make us some… I can’t think straight…decaf, definitely something decaffeinated. It is 3:00 in the morning… you do know most people are asleep at 3:00 am.
You ran here?...In all this snow? It’s snowing, you do know it is snowing?
Yes, yes I know but wait until you hear what just happened to me. You sit down and I will make the tea. Do you mind if I get something to eat? All this excitement has given me such an appetite.
No dear, help yourself.
Bella Nonna, you know how you hear stories of people being able to lift cars off of their love ones, scale a five story building to rescue someone from a burning building and swimming through raging currents to rescue a drowning person. I was always a little skeptical about the real facts. I believed people possess the ability to do extraordinary things when faced with a crisis, but to have the strength of thousands... I didn't think so.
Well this morning at 2:15 am I became a true believer in that fact. My guys were all sound asleep in their beds and it had been snowing for over two hours. I had just finished folding the last load of laundry. As I sat there watching the snow fall, enjoying all the peace and quiet, I thought of poor Patrick having to shovel all the snow off the walk and his car before going into work. So I decided to shovel the walkway down to the car before going to bed.
I took the laundry upstairs and checked on the children to make sure they were all safe and sound in their beds.... you know my kids, they have a habit of escaping from their beds and ending up under someone else.
You don’t have to tell me Bernadette… I remember frantically searching for Bridget for over fifteen minutes last year when I babysat for you. I no sooner got her back to sleep and the twins disappeared out of their beds and I found them asleep under your bed.
I am sorry for giggling Bella Nonna… I know how frightened you were. We should have warned you.
Okay back to my story. I donned my hat and gloves and headed out to shovel the walkway. I left the front door slightly ajar so I could hear if one of the kids got up... wait, my father just sat bolt upright in bed. He is screaming at my mother, “Saints preserve us Elizabeth that child of ours is heating the whole outside!” I had the kerosene heater on low in the living room to keep the house warm... besides our bedroom windows let out more heat than that.
Bernadette!... a lit kerosene heater in the house… unattended! Sorry I think I just channeled your mother. Go ahead with your story.
Where was I? Oh yeah, I was shoveling away and every fifteen minutes or so I would pop my head inside to check on things. I had been at it for an hour and was just about to quit when I saw Timmy standing in front of the living room window. As I was scurrying up the walk to the front door, Timmy slammed it shut. My heart leapt into my throat when I heard him push the dead bolt closed. At three and a half years old, Timmy has the ability to close the dead bolt but lacks the ability to OPEN the dead bolt.
"Timmy," I pleaded, "Push the latch up."
"What Mommy?"
"Turn the leaver up!" I screamed.
I could hear Timmy's playful giggles from behind the door. I peeked in the front window and could just about see Timmy by the door. I also spied the kerosene heater still on inside our fake fireplace. I started to panic inside.
"TIMMY, GO GET DADDY FOR ME!" I screamed.
"Daddy 'leeping," Timmy happily informed me.
"I know honey... WAKE HIM UP!" I called, still trying to keep my eye on Timmy from outside the front window.
I saw Timmy head up the steps to get Patrick. I waited for what seemed like an eternity... no Patrick or Timmy. I started to panic... I HAD to get Patrick up. I threw a snowball at our bedroom window... nothing. I threw some pebbles... nothing. I threw a rock at the aluminum siding that was around the window near his side of the bed... STILL NOTHING! I ran back to the front door, pounding and screaming for Patrick. I looked in the front window, no Timmy...I ran around the side of the house to look in the dining room window, no one. I ran around the back of the house and pounded on the kitchen door, nothing. I ran back around to the front of the house... more pounding and screaming. Frantic, I started heaving huge clumps of dirt at my nice clean bedroom windows. With every thwack of the massive clumps of dirt that hit the windows, one of the snowflake decorations I taped to the window fell ... still nothing. Somewhere between the fifth or sixth clump, I looked up and saw Timmy standing at the front window laughing with delight at my antics. As I approached the front window, Timmy took one of the throw pillows off the couch, spun around and flung it at the window. Totally delighted with himself he proceeded to get another... despite my frantic pleading, "GET YOUR DADDY NOW! DO YOU HEAR ME?
This was it... do or die time! Something had to be done. If he missed the window and the pillow hit the heater... I'm getting palpitations just thinking about it.
I had to get Timmy away from the front door so I bribed him. I told him to go get Maggie and Bridget. I said they would like to have fun too and that I would make hot chocolate for all of them when I got back inside. I told him to run as fast as his little legs could carry him and get them for me now.
I watched as Timmy scurried up the steps and with one mighty blow I busted the door open! It swung back against the wall so hard that the doorknob punched a hole in it. Wood, bricks and plaster covered the floor. I had ripped the doorjamb completely out of the wall. As I stood there surveying the damage, the girls came running down the steps.
"Mommy... what happened?" Maggie asked wide-eyed looking at the mess on the floor.
"What the H... is going on down there?" Patrick bellowed from our bedroom.
"It's just me. I got locked out and had to break in the door," I nonchalantly replied.
"Oh, okay... tell the kids to keep it down. I have to go to work tomorrow."
I told Patrick that he should call off work today because we have a little problem with the front door.
"Problem," Patrick mumbled as he headed down the stairs.
He stood at the foot of the steps, blinking in disbelief. "What happened?"
I explained how I was shoveling the walkway and got locked out. Timmy woke up and I tried to wake him up to let me in. The kerosene heater was on and I was afraid Tim might get hurt.
I could see Patrick’s nostrils start to flare. I thought he was about to blow his top so I went into hyper mode.
I stared straight at him and in my best you don’t want to mess with me voice I said, “I tried my best to wake you... just look at our bedroom windows and you'll see how hard. I know you heard me!"
Patrick didn't say another word. I'm not sure if he was in shock, still half asleep or scared to death of me... I did just Kung Foo in a solid wooden door!
"Look, the dead bolt worked, it is still locked," I nervously giggled. “Wouldn't this make a great commercial?"
Patrick just kept staring at all the rubble. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry… so I made hot chocolate for everyone and cleaned up most the debris while Patrick went to the garage and got a huge piece of plastic to cover the gaping hole left by the missing doorjamb.
Thankfully we are able to close the door. I tucked everyone in bed again and tried to go to sleep but I just can’t... you would think having the strength of thousands would take a lot out of a girl...but I feel like I could climb a mountain.
Oh my goodness Bernadette, it sounds like you had quite a night. I am so relieved that everyone is alright. Is the house warm enough? Do you need any help with the house or the children?
Everything is fine for right now. The hole is sealed up and everyone was asleep when I left. I feel a little guilty that I woke you up.
Don’t give it another thought. I will just chalk it up to my learning another life lesson. The next time someone tells me they do not believe a person could possess the strength of a thousand people; I will tell them your story.
And if they don’t believe you, just send them down to me… I will have the repair bills to prove it!
Bernadette, it is 3:00 am!
I know Bella Nonna, I am sorry to wake you so early but I can’t sleep. I am too… blah… how can I describe it? I’m upset, guilty, excited, shook-up, and pissed-off… AACK my adrenaline is pumping so fast. I ran all the way here.
Okay Bernadette calm down I will make us some… I can’t think straight…decaf, definitely something decaffeinated. It is 3:00 in the morning… you do know most people are asleep at 3:00 am.
You ran here?...In all this snow? It’s snowing, you do know it is snowing?
Yes, yes I know but wait until you hear what just happened to me. You sit down and I will make the tea. Do you mind if I get something to eat? All this excitement has given me such an appetite.
No dear, help yourself.
Bella Nonna, you know how you hear stories of people being able to lift cars off of their love ones, scale a five story building to rescue someone from a burning building and swimming through raging currents to rescue a drowning person. I was always a little skeptical about the real facts. I believed people possess the ability to do extraordinary things when faced with a crisis, but to have the strength of thousands... I didn't think so.
Well this morning at 2:15 am I became a true believer in that fact. My guys were all sound asleep in their beds and it had been snowing for over two hours. I had just finished folding the last load of laundry. As I sat there watching the snow fall, enjoying all the peace and quiet, I thought of poor Patrick having to shovel all the snow off the walk and his car before going into work. So I decided to shovel the walkway down to the car before going to bed.
I took the laundry upstairs and checked on the children to make sure they were all safe and sound in their beds.... you know my kids, they have a habit of escaping from their beds and ending up under someone else.
You don’t have to tell me Bernadette… I remember frantically searching for Bridget for over fifteen minutes last year when I babysat for you. I no sooner got her back to sleep and the twins disappeared out of their beds and I found them asleep under your bed.
I am sorry for giggling Bella Nonna… I know how frightened you were. We should have warned you.
Okay back to my story. I donned my hat and gloves and headed out to shovel the walkway. I left the front door slightly ajar so I could hear if one of the kids got up... wait, my father just sat bolt upright in bed. He is screaming at my mother, “Saints preserve us Elizabeth that child of ours is heating the whole outside!” I had the kerosene heater on low in the living room to keep the house warm... besides our bedroom windows let out more heat than that.
Bernadette!... a lit kerosene heater in the house… unattended! Sorry I think I just channeled your mother. Go ahead with your story.
Where was I? Oh yeah, I was shoveling away and every fifteen minutes or so I would pop my head inside to check on things. I had been at it for an hour and was just about to quit when I saw Timmy standing in front of the living room window. As I was scurrying up the walk to the front door, Timmy slammed it shut. My heart leapt into my throat when I heard him push the dead bolt closed. At three and a half years old, Timmy has the ability to close the dead bolt but lacks the ability to OPEN the dead bolt.
"Timmy," I pleaded, "Push the latch up."
"What Mommy?"
"Turn the leaver up!" I screamed.
I could hear Timmy's playful giggles from behind the door. I peeked in the front window and could just about see Timmy by the door. I also spied the kerosene heater still on inside our fake fireplace. I started to panic inside.
"TIMMY, GO GET DADDY FOR ME!" I screamed.
"Daddy 'leeping," Timmy happily informed me.
"I know honey... WAKE HIM UP!" I called, still trying to keep my eye on Timmy from outside the front window.
I saw Timmy head up the steps to get Patrick. I waited for what seemed like an eternity... no Patrick or Timmy. I started to panic... I HAD to get Patrick up. I threw a snowball at our bedroom window... nothing. I threw some pebbles... nothing. I threw a rock at the aluminum siding that was around the window near his side of the bed... STILL NOTHING! I ran back to the front door, pounding and screaming for Patrick. I looked in the front window, no Timmy...I ran around the side of the house to look in the dining room window, no one. I ran around the back of the house and pounded on the kitchen door, nothing. I ran back around to the front of the house... more pounding and screaming. Frantic, I started heaving huge clumps of dirt at my nice clean bedroom windows. With every thwack of the massive clumps of dirt that hit the windows, one of the snowflake decorations I taped to the window fell ... still nothing. Somewhere between the fifth or sixth clump, I looked up and saw Timmy standing at the front window laughing with delight at my antics. As I approached the front window, Timmy took one of the throw pillows off the couch, spun around and flung it at the window. Totally delighted with himself he proceeded to get another... despite my frantic pleading, "GET YOUR DADDY NOW! DO YOU HEAR ME?
This was it... do or die time! Something had to be done. If he missed the window and the pillow hit the heater... I'm getting palpitations just thinking about it.
I had to get Timmy away from the front door so I bribed him. I told him to go get Maggie and Bridget. I said they would like to have fun too and that I would make hot chocolate for all of them when I got back inside. I told him to run as fast as his little legs could carry him and get them for me now.
I watched as Timmy scurried up the steps and with one mighty blow I busted the door open! It swung back against the wall so hard that the doorknob punched a hole in it. Wood, bricks and plaster covered the floor. I had ripped the doorjamb completely out of the wall. As I stood there surveying the damage, the girls came running down the steps.
"Mommy... what happened?" Maggie asked wide-eyed looking at the mess on the floor.
"What the H... is going on down there?" Patrick bellowed from our bedroom.
"It's just me. I got locked out and had to break in the door," I nonchalantly replied.
"Oh, okay... tell the kids to keep it down. I have to go to work tomorrow."
I told Patrick that he should call off work today because we have a little problem with the front door.
"Problem," Patrick mumbled as he headed down the stairs.
He stood at the foot of the steps, blinking in disbelief. "What happened?"
I explained how I was shoveling the walkway and got locked out. Timmy woke up and I tried to wake him up to let me in. The kerosene heater was on and I was afraid Tim might get hurt.
I could see Patrick’s nostrils start to flare. I thought he was about to blow his top so I went into hyper mode.
I stared straight at him and in my best you don’t want to mess with me voice I said, “I tried my best to wake you... just look at our bedroom windows and you'll see how hard. I know you heard me!"
Patrick didn't say another word. I'm not sure if he was in shock, still half asleep or scared to death of me... I did just Kung Foo in a solid wooden door!
"Look, the dead bolt worked, it is still locked," I nervously giggled. “Wouldn't this make a great commercial?"
Patrick just kept staring at all the rubble. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry… so I made hot chocolate for everyone and cleaned up most the debris while Patrick went to the garage and got a huge piece of plastic to cover the gaping hole left by the missing doorjamb.
Thankfully we are able to close the door. I tucked everyone in bed again and tried to go to sleep but I just can’t... you would think having the strength of thousands would take a lot out of a girl...but I feel like I could climb a mountain.
Oh my goodness Bernadette, it sounds like you had quite a night. I am so relieved that everyone is alright. Is the house warm enough? Do you need any help with the house or the children?
Everything is fine for right now. The hole is sealed up and everyone was asleep when I left. I feel a little guilty that I woke you up.
Don’t give it another thought. I will just chalk it up to my learning another life lesson. The next time someone tells me they do not believe a person could possess the strength of a thousand people; I will tell them your story.
And if they don’t believe you, just send them down to me… I will have the repair bills to prove it!
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