It is very hard around here with all of this Halloween candy in my face. Usually, I don't think much about my favorite candy, milky ways. That's because during the year, I'm usually very careful not to let them in my house. But a few weeks before Halloween, I start stocking up on the stuff to give trick or treaters, and I buy them, lying to myself that they are just for giving out. By now, you would think I would know the drill, and buy something I don't like. But every year, I buy that bag of milky ways! It's like I'm looking for trouble.
I promise myself I'm not going to take even one bite, because I know if I get a taste, I'm going to want more and more. I even torture myself a little by not eating one right away. For a few days, I walk past the bag, I look at the bag, I smell the bag, but I don't give in just yet. When I feel myself becoming weak, I turn the bag over and look at the nutritional facts. I read all the reasons why I should stay away from the milky ways! It works for another few days. Then, and it happens this way every year, I have a stressful day, and start eyeballing that milky way. I convince myself that there's no harm in having "just one." I even convince myself that if I eat one, it will stop becoming something I obsess over, and maybe I can stop there. I am sure it will make me feel better, and I convince myself it won't become a habit.
I eat one, and even though I enjoy every bite, I feel gross inside. Was it worth it? Well, it was so good! I knew it would be!! You know how it goes, one leads to two and three, and pretty soon I devour the entire bag. I wake up thinking about what point in the day I'll have my milky way. If someone else asks to have one, I get a little possessive. I like to keep my milky ways all to myself. In fact, I hide them. I'm weak, I know, and I only hope that giving in doesn't ruin all my eating habits.
But after a while, after that bag has been emptied, and the guilt starts to fade, I come to terms with it. I realize it's okay to be a little self-indulgent once in a while, as long as I don't make it a daily habit the whole year through. I'm only human, and I'll be stronger next year!
I will, you'll see!
What's your candy weakness? Are you strong, or do you give in to temptation?
Monday, October 31, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Photos
I found a pile of old photos this morning. Of course they are photos of my kids. They were taken around six years ago, when the kids were 8, 5, and 2. In these photos, the kids are looking at each other, or one isn't looking at the camera, or the picture itself is off center. In some of them, someone is crying or pouting, and refusing to smile for the camera. I deemed this pile of photos not good enough to make it into the family album at the time, but as I look at them today, six years later, I realize they are more than perfect. They capture what the "perfect" album photos do not: reality.
Some of the photos I found were attempts to take a picture for our Christmas card. I remember how uncooperative the kids were being. One sat, two ran away. Two sat, one pulled off his tie; I remember sweating profusely! I was so concerned with getting the perfect photo, but what was I trying to do really? Was I trying to show the world an image of my life that didn't truly exist? Three perfectly coordinated outfits, on three freshly scrubbed, obedient children was not easy to achieve. Even on those occasions when I did get the shot, it wasn't reality. Five minutes later they had pulled off their itchy clothes and were screaming like maniacs again. I would never have dreamed of snapping a picture then!
A photo really is just a jump start for memories. Sometimes, looking at photos can make you happy. If you are re-living a vacation or a family celebration, this is usually the case. Other times, it can make you sad, as it did for me today. I wished I could just jump right back into those photos for a day knowing what I know now, that the frustration I felt when they wouldn't all sit still would one day seem silly. I know that the weariness I felt just parenting three young kids eventually goes away, only to be replaced with a new kind of tired as they grow older and have bigger needs. I wish I could go back and truly appreciate the moment, and not worry so much about the darn picture. I wish I could just hug their little bodies again.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but they don't tell you that some of those words just may be, "It took me an hour to get this photo!" I feel lucky to have found these "imperfect" photos from a time when I didn't have a digital camera. Nowadays, we can see when a picture didn't come out as we had hoped, and delete it on the spot. Maybe we should all be a little more selective before we hit that delete button, though. Some of those imperfect photos may have captured what we usually don't think to capture: real, uncensored moments in our lives.
Life is made up of a lot of "big" moments. Usually, these big ones get photographed and shown to friends and family. But there are many "not so big" moments that blend together as a mother struggles to find the strength to make it through each day. We find ourselves under mounds of laundry, housework, and bills. We have groceries to buy, and meals to cook. Diapers need to be changed, and car pools driven. We usually don't take our cameras out for those events. But that is real life. And do you know what? I think our kids are going to remember many more of those moments than anything else.
Think about your own life. I truly don't remember each and every family Communion or Easter from my childhood, even though I have have photos of those days. But I remember the tray of freshly baked cookies, and the shoes my dad used to wear. I remember seeing my mom at the kitchen sink each night as she cleaned up after dinner. I can close my eyes right now and feel my mother's cheek on my forehead and see the concern in her eyes as she checked me for fever, and I don't have a photo of any of those things!
So if you are a young mom, take some advice from a veteran: Don't worry about capturing the perfect scene, with perfect hair and smiles. Enjoy living the ordinary moments as they happen, because years from now you won't need a picture to remember them. That's the truth.
Some of the photos I found were attempts to take a picture for our Christmas card. I remember how uncooperative the kids were being. One sat, two ran away. Two sat, one pulled off his tie; I remember sweating profusely! I was so concerned with getting the perfect photo, but what was I trying to do really? Was I trying to show the world an image of my life that didn't truly exist? Three perfectly coordinated outfits, on three freshly scrubbed, obedient children was not easy to achieve. Even on those occasions when I did get the shot, it wasn't reality. Five minutes later they had pulled off their itchy clothes and were screaming like maniacs again. I would never have dreamed of snapping a picture then!
A photo really is just a jump start for memories. Sometimes, looking at photos can make you happy. If you are re-living a vacation or a family celebration, this is usually the case. Other times, it can make you sad, as it did for me today. I wished I could just jump right back into those photos for a day knowing what I know now, that the frustration I felt when they wouldn't all sit still would one day seem silly. I know that the weariness I felt just parenting three young kids eventually goes away, only to be replaced with a new kind of tired as they grow older and have bigger needs. I wish I could go back and truly appreciate the moment, and not worry so much about the darn picture. I wish I could just hug their little bodies again.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words, but they don't tell you that some of those words just may be, "It took me an hour to get this photo!" I feel lucky to have found these "imperfect" photos from a time when I didn't have a digital camera. Nowadays, we can see when a picture didn't come out as we had hoped, and delete it on the spot. Maybe we should all be a little more selective before we hit that delete button, though. Some of those imperfect photos may have captured what we usually don't think to capture: real, uncensored moments in our lives.
Life is made up of a lot of "big" moments. Usually, these big ones get photographed and shown to friends and family. But there are many "not so big" moments that blend together as a mother struggles to find the strength to make it through each day. We find ourselves under mounds of laundry, housework, and bills. We have groceries to buy, and meals to cook. Diapers need to be changed, and car pools driven. We usually don't take our cameras out for those events. But that is real life. And do you know what? I think our kids are going to remember many more of those moments than anything else.
Think about your own life. I truly don't remember each and every family Communion or Easter from my childhood, even though I have have photos of those days. But I remember the tray of freshly baked cookies, and the shoes my dad used to wear. I remember seeing my mom at the kitchen sink each night as she cleaned up after dinner. I can close my eyes right now and feel my mother's cheek on my forehead and see the concern in her eyes as she checked me for fever, and I don't have a photo of any of those things!
So if you are a young mom, take some advice from a veteran: Don't worry about capturing the perfect scene, with perfect hair and smiles. Enjoy living the ordinary moments as they happen, because years from now you won't need a picture to remember them. That's the truth.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Cousins
My dad was one of eight children. Two of his brothers passed away when he was young: Saverio, as a child, and Vincent (Jimmy), in WWII. The remaining 6 siblings stayed close, all living most of their lives on Long Island: Rose, Lena, Vito (Bill), Nick, Sal, and my dad, Joe. Together they had 21 children. The sad truth is that these days I only see most of my extended family at wakes and weddings, and the former is the most common. We always promise to get together more often, but we are all so busy with our own lives that it rarely happens. I have lost two more uncles and an aunt already, and my own parents are in their eighties. It is starting to seem more important that we get our family together a bit more often. In that spirit, my sister held a "reunion" at her home for my aunts, uncles, and cousins last month.
Cousins are very special relatives, in my opinion. Cousins aren't in your face every day growing up the way a brother or sister is, therefore, you really don't have a chance to get on each other's nerves. However, because our parents are siblings, we have similar traditions. When I see my cousins, I am brought right back to my childhood, when our families would visit on Sundays. Times were different, and Sundays were sacred. Back then there wasn't any soccer, t-ball, flag football, or the myriad of things I know take up my own Sundays. There wasn't any rushing around to get the grocery shopping done either, because most stores weren't even open on Sundays. So people actually visited one another!
Our families got together and there was always a huge meal. We had small houses, so the kids didn't fit at the dining table. No one stressed about it, or put a huge addition on the house, we just had a kids' table set up somewhere else. There was always someone to play with, and boy, did we have fun! We played in the backyard, caught fireflies, toasted marshmallows on charcoal grills, and swam in above ground pools. We came inside only if the weather was bad, and played in the basement for hours. There were no electronics to distract us from interacting with one another. We loved every minute of it. It was perfect, but as is often the case in life, you really don't know what you have until it's gone.
I got very emotional when I saw one of my cousins in particular at the party. Anthony is my age, and we played together a lot while we were growing up. It seems that we visited his house the most. My dad would put my purple, hand-me-down bike with the banana seat in the trunk of his Chevelle, and off we would go to my cousins' house. There were five kids in that family, so it was always a lot of fun. They had a huge backyard where we spent many hours, making up all sorts of games. They had a big, above ground pool, and we swam for hours. My Aunt Maureen was the best cook in the world, and there was always more than enough food. I have the best memories of sitting cross-legged in front of their coffee table in the living room, eating dinner with my cousins. I swear I can still taste her roast beef and mashed potatoes right now. Sadly, my Aunt Maureen and Uncle Sal both passed away at an early age, and their passing left a huge gap in our family.
My dad and his brothers all look alike, so when my cousin Anthony and his brothers saw my dad at this party we just had, I could see them becoming emotional. They hugged and kissed my dad, and that scene nearly pushed me over the edge. It was like they were seeing part of their dad again.
Anthony looks like his dad as well, and has so many of his mannerisms that I found myself staring at him. We have a similar sense of humor, and when I see him, I feel like I'm ten again, and I act sort of goofy. We tease each other, and I remember all the games we used to play. I think I hugged him twenty times at my sister's house, as if the hugging would somehow transport us back to the time when we were young, and we didn't need to really think about much of anything, especially jobs, mortgages, and aging and deceased parents.
Seeing all my cousins again was a reality check. We are growing older, some of us have married children, and one is even a grandmother! My cousins and I are moving up a rung on that ladder of mortality. Our parents have either passed or are old. Those carefree days of being a child are way over for us, and those no-rush Sundays a thing of the past. Our families didn't have a lot, but it felt like we did. We had what was important. I kind of mourn the loss of those days, and wonder if my kids will look back on their childhood with the same sense of peace I do mine, despite this "gotta have it, gotta make it bigger, gotta get more of it" world.
Another cousin's daughter got married last weekend, so I got to see a few of my cousins again. When I said goodbye to my cousin Anthony, I felt really sad. I told him I didn't want to wait a whole year before I saw him again. He's got a great wife and two sons, and I have my own family. We will get busy again with life, and we probably won't see each other for a long while. But when I do see him, and all my other cousins, I will once again be reminded of who I was when I was small. I will recall a time when all of our parents were young and healthy, and life was not nearly as complicated as it is now. And I'll definitely hug him again.
Do you have special memories of your cousins?
Cousins are very special relatives, in my opinion. Cousins aren't in your face every day growing up the way a brother or sister is, therefore, you really don't have a chance to get on each other's nerves. However, because our parents are siblings, we have similar traditions. When I see my cousins, I am brought right back to my childhood, when our families would visit on Sundays. Times were different, and Sundays were sacred. Back then there wasn't any soccer, t-ball, flag football, or the myriad of things I know take up my own Sundays. There wasn't any rushing around to get the grocery shopping done either, because most stores weren't even open on Sundays. So people actually visited one another!
Our families got together and there was always a huge meal. We had small houses, so the kids didn't fit at the dining table. No one stressed about it, or put a huge addition on the house, we just had a kids' table set up somewhere else. There was always someone to play with, and boy, did we have fun! We played in the backyard, caught fireflies, toasted marshmallows on charcoal grills, and swam in above ground pools. We came inside only if the weather was bad, and played in the basement for hours. There were no electronics to distract us from interacting with one another. We loved every minute of it. It was perfect, but as is often the case in life, you really don't know what you have until it's gone.
I got very emotional when I saw one of my cousins in particular at the party. Anthony is my age, and we played together a lot while we were growing up. It seems that we visited his house the most. My dad would put my purple, hand-me-down bike with the banana seat in the trunk of his Chevelle, and off we would go to my cousins' house. There were five kids in that family, so it was always a lot of fun. They had a huge backyard where we spent many hours, making up all sorts of games. They had a big, above ground pool, and we swam for hours. My Aunt Maureen was the best cook in the world, and there was always more than enough food. I have the best memories of sitting cross-legged in front of their coffee table in the living room, eating dinner with my cousins. I swear I can still taste her roast beef and mashed potatoes right now. Sadly, my Aunt Maureen and Uncle Sal both passed away at an early age, and their passing left a huge gap in our family.
My dad and his brothers all look alike, so when my cousin Anthony and his brothers saw my dad at this party we just had, I could see them becoming emotional. They hugged and kissed my dad, and that scene nearly pushed me over the edge. It was like they were seeing part of their dad again.
Anthony looks like his dad as well, and has so many of his mannerisms that I found myself staring at him. We have a similar sense of humor, and when I see him, I feel like I'm ten again, and I act sort of goofy. We tease each other, and I remember all the games we used to play. I think I hugged him twenty times at my sister's house, as if the hugging would somehow transport us back to the time when we were young, and we didn't need to really think about much of anything, especially jobs, mortgages, and aging and deceased parents.
Seeing all my cousins again was a reality check. We are growing older, some of us have married children, and one is even a grandmother! My cousins and I are moving up a rung on that ladder of mortality. Our parents have either passed or are old. Those carefree days of being a child are way over for us, and those no-rush Sundays a thing of the past. Our families didn't have a lot, but it felt like we did. We had what was important. I kind of mourn the loss of those days, and wonder if my kids will look back on their childhood with the same sense of peace I do mine, despite this "gotta have it, gotta make it bigger, gotta get more of it" world.
Another cousin's daughter got married last weekend, so I got to see a few of my cousins again. When I said goodbye to my cousin Anthony, I felt really sad. I told him I didn't want to wait a whole year before I saw him again. He's got a great wife and two sons, and I have my own family. We will get busy again with life, and we probably won't see each other for a long while. But when I do see him, and all my other cousins, I will once again be reminded of who I was when I was small. I will recall a time when all of our parents were young and healthy, and life was not nearly as complicated as it is now. And I'll definitely hug him again.
Do you have special memories of your cousins?
Monday, October 3, 2011
The Rush
It has been longer than I expected since my last post. All day, every day, I write stories in my head, but never seem to have time to sit down at this darn computer. This past weekend was a busy one for my family, no busier than any other, mind you, but it just felt exhausting. I'm sure most of you have the same type of weekends, and if you have kids who are involved in sports and activities, you are probably exhausted right now as well.
I've always been against overscheduling kids with too many activities, and I honestly don't think my children are involved in too much--separately, that is. The problem lies in having three children who have different things going on, often at the same time! My daughter is involved in the least amount of things, but is always dragged around to her brothers' sporting events. This weekend I felt particularly sorry for her because all she wanted to do was lie on the couch and read. She wanted and needed a day to just relax, which we all could use, but I couldn't give it to her.
Although these activities are fun for the kids, and keep them healthy and active, sometimes it can feel like we live in the car, rushing from one thing to another. Think about it, how many times a day do you say, "hurry up" to your kids? I can't be alone in this. "Hurry up, the bus is coming, Hurry up, put on your cleats, Hurry up, get in the car!" I know I sound like a broken record, and that can't be fun to hear. To top it all off, in between sports, there was food shopping that needed to get done, so I was feeling pretty much like burnt toast when I arrived at the food store to grab the cold cuts for this week's sandwiches.
One of the first people I saw was a neighbor from down the street. Ray's youngest is in college now. "How's it going?" he asked. "I don't know which end is up," I blurted out. "We've been running from one thing to another all day with the kids!" I must have looked like a mom about to lose it, because Ray looked at me thoughtfully and said. "It's a lot, I know, but it's just like my lawn." I looked at him quizzically, not having the slightest idea what he was talking about. All I could think was I still had shopping to do, dinner to make, and my older son still had a football game. "My wife used to get so angry because our lawn wouldn't grow," Ray continued. "She used to complain that all the kids were always running all over the lawn, and it looked terrible. I told her one day she would miss that." Ray paused and said quietly, "I have a great lawn now."
Oh, sometimes we can't see the forest for the trees. I trip over toys that keep reappearing in areas I've just cleaned, dirty handprints are all over the glass door, and I run from morning till night, doing laundry, making meals, volunteering at school. There are days, as I'm sure you will agree, when you have so much to do that you wish the day was over before it even gets started. Tryng to coordinate schedules and rides, and who needs to get where is a stressful job. But it does sadden me when I realize it won't be forever.
Thanks to a reality check provided by a wise neighbor, at least for a few minutes today, I'm going to go outside and give thanks for that imperfect lawn of mine.
I've always been against overscheduling kids with too many activities, and I honestly don't think my children are involved in too much--separately, that is. The problem lies in having three children who have different things going on, often at the same time! My daughter is involved in the least amount of things, but is always dragged around to her brothers' sporting events. This weekend I felt particularly sorry for her because all she wanted to do was lie on the couch and read. She wanted and needed a day to just relax, which we all could use, but I couldn't give it to her.
Although these activities are fun for the kids, and keep them healthy and active, sometimes it can feel like we live in the car, rushing from one thing to another. Think about it, how many times a day do you say, "hurry up" to your kids? I can't be alone in this. "Hurry up, the bus is coming, Hurry up, put on your cleats, Hurry up, get in the car!" I know I sound like a broken record, and that can't be fun to hear. To top it all off, in between sports, there was food shopping that needed to get done, so I was feeling pretty much like burnt toast when I arrived at the food store to grab the cold cuts for this week's sandwiches.
One of the first people I saw was a neighbor from down the street. Ray's youngest is in college now. "How's it going?" he asked. "I don't know which end is up," I blurted out. "We've been running from one thing to another all day with the kids!" I must have looked like a mom about to lose it, because Ray looked at me thoughtfully and said. "It's a lot, I know, but it's just like my lawn." I looked at him quizzically, not having the slightest idea what he was talking about. All I could think was I still had shopping to do, dinner to make, and my older son still had a football game. "My wife used to get so angry because our lawn wouldn't grow," Ray continued. "She used to complain that all the kids were always running all over the lawn, and it looked terrible. I told her one day she would miss that." Ray paused and said quietly, "I have a great lawn now."
Oh, sometimes we can't see the forest for the trees. I trip over toys that keep reappearing in areas I've just cleaned, dirty handprints are all over the glass door, and I run from morning till night, doing laundry, making meals, volunteering at school. There are days, as I'm sure you will agree, when you have so much to do that you wish the day was over before it even gets started. Tryng to coordinate schedules and rides, and who needs to get where is a stressful job. But it does sadden me when I realize it won't be forever.
Thanks to a reality check provided by a wise neighbor, at least for a few minutes today, I'm going to go outside and give thanks for that imperfect lawn of mine.
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