So in my introductory post, I mentioned "The Rules". These are my mother's rules that she has developed over time. Well, actually, that's not true. I swear she makes some up as she goes along - but either way - they are her RULES. And god HELP YOU if you don't know them and follow them! So - from time to time and as they come up I will post "The Rules" for you so that you too may become aware of them and learn to live a "better" life :) Welcome to My World!
Rule #1: How to Put the Garbage Out
Did you know there was a WAY that the garbage should go out? Well, there is and shame on you for not knowing it! Where we live, our garbage goes out twice a week. My son, being the only boy in the house, is tasked with the job. Now before someone goes ballistic and says why should he have to put the garbage out because he's the boy....let me just put it on the table. That's because that's the way it is!!! Even though I'm very clear that this is 2007, our old-fashioned, Italian ways are still integrated into our sense of right from wrong. Now, that's not to say that we (the girls in the house) NEVER put the garbage out, but still...for the most part - guy job. [I can hear my friend Jeff having a COMPLETE fit right now - he, though Italian himself, rebels against these notions. Pffftttt - poor thing - he's just confused :)]. But I'll save THIS topic for another day.
Ok - so back to the garbage. Twice a week. Now - my son will usually put the garbage out before he leaves for school. We have lived here for 6 years and of those 6 I would say he's been on garbage duty for probably the past 2. For every Monday and Thursday of those 2 years, my mother will make a special effort to come downstairs and tell him HOW to put the garbage out. And by how, I mean how to actually place the bags ON the grass for optimal pick-up! She doesn't really even trust any of us to load the smaller trash bags into our larger, black trash bags (we have a ridiculously small kitchen trash can that we line with plastic grocery bags, fill up, and then transfer to a larger trash bag a few times a day. Yeah - I know - you couldn't really call us an environmentally friendly bunch quite yet)!
So today is Thursday - Trash Day #2 for the week. Our non "recyclable" day (that pick up is only once/week on Monday). We had pizza last night for dinner so instead of holding onto the pizza boxes until Monday, my mother has decided it is necessary for us to HIDE the pizza boxes in a large black trash bag and wants my son to put THAT trash bag under the other trash bag so that the garbage men "won't really see it and maybe they'll take it". Now mind you, we're all at the breakfast table when she comes downstairs to give us this command. Because we're used to these types of commands, we all just sort of look at her, realize she's crazy, and continue on with our breakfast. But the best part is the look on her face. She has actually given this REAL THOUGHT! Like it would be some sort of real life accomplishment if we could just position these pizza boxes just the right way so that the garbage men will be lulled into thinking they were actual trash and not a recyclable item! No matter how often something like this happens, it still remains mind blowing to me that THIS is what occupies her time. Not things like, ok, I'm 77 - what can I do with the remainder of my life to really leave my mark on the world. How can I contribute something VALUABLE to society to make it a better place. Nope - not my mother. Her dying legacy will be a grandson who has been trained to deceive the government, ruin the environment, and neatly pile his trash! Then, just maybe then, will she be able to rest in peace! And the best part about this is, she will call in instructions on how to put the garbage out from VACATION! Yes, you heard it folks - from VACATION! I can't tell you how many phone calls I have received from her on Monday and Thursday mornings when she is away where she is actually panic stricken thinking that we might have done it wrong or (for those of you who are Catholic, you would cross yourself here) perhaps even FORGOT!
So - if for some reason you have been putting the garbage out WRONG after all of these years. Let me know. My mother can call you too and fill you in on the error of your ways. You will feel soooooooo much better for it..... NOT!
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
A Short Diatribe
My niece wrote this TWO YEARS AGO and I actually saved it because to this day it still cracks me up. Thought I would share it with all of you.
BATHROOM COMMENTARY
Let me preface this by saying with close family it's different. . . all social norms and graces can be ignored when it comes to close family. You grow up talking to people in the bathroom. I can even excuse the following situation if you actually walk to the bathroom with a friend, enter together, and know that you're going to leave together. But, can one of you please explain to me however why a coworker would decide to talk to you while you're trying to go the bathroom? Seriously, how are you supposed to handle that? First, it pretty much kills those of us that are bladder shy. Nothing can make me not have to go the bathroom quicker than knowing people are listening. Second, I always feel incredibly rude actually going to the bathroom at that point. "I have so much (insert bathroom type sound effect) work to do this week- (insert another bathroom type sound effect) end. How about you?" You become so conscious of every single sound! How are you supposed to concentrate on the details of the party your coworker is throwing for her graduating daughter, when all that is going through you head is "FOR GODS SAKE WOMAN, SHUT THE HELL UP AND LEAVE SO I CAN GO TO THE BATHROOM IN PEACE!!!"???
And then, lets say you finish first. Do you have to stand around and wait for them to finish so as not to leave in the middle of a conversation? I don't plan out that much bathroom time in a day! I happen to be more of an in and out type of person, less than a minute total. And then what if someone new walks in - do you have to fill them in on the details of the conversation as not to be rude and not include them? Being that the bathroom is sort of a rotating thing, you could be stuck there all day in an effort to be polite. I find myself desperately wishing that I worked in a building with 1 stall bathrooms!
Well, I must get back to work now. I'm going to go peek in the bathroom quickly and see if anyone is in there so that I can use it!
BATHROOM COMMENTARY
Let me preface this by saying with close family it's different. . . all social norms and graces can be ignored when it comes to close family. You grow up talking to people in the bathroom. I can even excuse the following situation if you actually walk to the bathroom with a friend, enter together, and know that you're going to leave together. But, can one of you please explain to me however why a coworker would decide to talk to you while you're trying to go the bathroom? Seriously, how are you supposed to handle that? First, it pretty much kills those of us that are bladder shy. Nothing can make me not have to go the bathroom quicker than knowing people are listening. Second, I always feel incredibly rude actually going to the bathroom at that point. "I have so much (insert bathroom type sound effect) work to do this week- (insert another bathroom type sound effect) end. How about you?" You become so conscious of every single sound! How are you supposed to concentrate on the details of the party your coworker is throwing for her graduating daughter, when all that is going through you head is "FOR GODS SAKE WOMAN, SHUT THE HELL UP AND LEAVE SO I CAN GO TO THE BATHROOM IN PEACE!!!"???
And then, lets say you finish first. Do you have to stand around and wait for them to finish so as not to leave in the middle of a conversation? I don't plan out that much bathroom time in a day! I happen to be more of an in and out type of person, less than a minute total. And then what if someone new walks in - do you have to fill them in on the details of the conversation as not to be rude and not include them? Being that the bathroom is sort of a rotating thing, you could be stuck there all day in an effort to be polite. I find myself desperately wishing that I worked in a building with 1 stall bathrooms!
Well, I must get back to work now. I'm going to go peek in the bathroom quickly and see if anyone is in there so that I can use it!
When Your Child Decides She's a "Dork"
So my daughter and I are in the car the other day and I'm asking her about her friends at school (yes, I've been paying attention when I hear that we are actually supposed to COMMUNICATE with these budding teenagers.... and god knows that is one thing I can actually manage!). I am inquiring about what kind of kids she hangs out with (secretly suspecting that I already know the answer... but still - maybe, just MAYBE I'm wrong). She tells me, very matter-of-factly, "Oh yeah Mama... we're the dorks." Now mind you, she says this, but with no shyness, no thought that is or could be anything but normal! So - now of course this is not my DREAM response for my child and I weigh my answer cautiously and reply, "WHAT? What do you MEAN you're dorks? Why would you say that?" (Have I mentioned how EXTREMELY patient I can be and how tact is one of my strong points?). Meanwhile, my mind is spiraling ahead in her life when she will be wearing braces, glasses and be dateless for the prom! But ok - reminder to self - she's 10. There is LOTS of time between now and when she's shopping for prom gowns and really - do I WANT her to go to the prom? But ok - she looks at me and just starts laughing! "Mama! Ya gotta be PROUD to be a dork!" Well that's it - I'm done. I just can't help but LAUGH with her!
Now, let me give you a little background on this story. This is her first year in public school. Up until now she's been in a VERY SMALL, religiously based school. You could almost go so far to say that she was practically home schooled, because yes, when my kids went to school, so did I. I was their teacher for a time, part of the administration, the librarian, the computer teacher. You name it, I did it just so that I could be near and around them (Hmmm - so the crazy apple from my mother's tree didn't really roll away, it might have just thudded to the ground!). When I wasn't their teacher, their teachers were my best friends. I was always around and was able to gently caress their friendships, their activities in school, and how their classroom life was (gently caress just POSSIBLY could equate to control.... but... that's just a guess.. hehehe).
So this year, 5th grade for my daughter and 6th grade for my son, I decide it's time for them to join the rest of the planet in (can you hear it... dun dun DUN... scary movie sound track playing) public school! This was the HARDEST decision I have had to make yet in their little lives. So much of what our lives were about was wrapped up in the school they were going to. Our friends were there, all of my control (did I say that out loud???)..... you get the picture. Now - I went to public school and I wasn't popular, but I wasn't a dork either. I was a floater. I was smart, so I could hang out with the brainy crowd who just happened to be part of the athletic crowd too. I wasn't a MAJOR over achiever so I had the "middle rung" friends too. I went to a small school so the only kids I guess I really did NOT hang out with were the "druggies" (you know the ones - the kids who smoked and were the predacessors to the kids today the FBI keeps a file on). But when I decided to send the kids public school, all of the times I ever got picked on or teased or WISHED I had been TRULY "popular" came flooding back to me.
We live in a fairly affluent area so all I have ever heard about the public school system here is that its a building full of the have's and have nots. Even the guidance counselor said that the only negative he could think of with the school was that there was a "social structure" at the school based on the financial backgrounds of the parents (can you BELIEVE that!??) Financially, we're the have nots (at THIS point we're the have nots but - I keep repeating my mantra ... make money to pay for therapy for the kids later.... make money to pay for therapy for the kids later. It's a hell of an incentive!) so I have been FRANTICALLY trying to figure out how to get in with the "right crowd" so that my children would have the "right" friends (I know - you're shaking your head. I am too as I'm writing this.... but I have promised to be honest when I do this so I need to tell you the REAL story so that the end makes sense!). So, for the first few months of school I went to all the events, smiled nicely, and tried to talk to some of the other parents who seemed to be "in the know". But their "have" radar must have been on or something because THAT didn't work. Invites to join this committee or that committee or could my children come over to play just didn't pour in. So ok, I refocused my efforts. At this point, I decided, let's just focus on making sure the kids adjust and don't become one of the FBI friendly kids.
So I back peddled. I slowly but surely relinquished my fantasized control and decided to let the kids manage their own social lives for the first time. BUT LOOK WHAT HAPPENED WHEN I DID!!! She's a DORK! And PROUD OF IT!!! *sighing and laughing*..... Oh well - if truth be told....we're a family of dorks and I have lived by the same motto she is standing by today. I'm a dork - and I'm PROUD to be a dork. I managed to get through middle school, high school, and my brief sojourn at college being a dork and I still talk to various WONDERFUL friends that I made a long the way. As an adult, I'm comfortable with my "dorkness" for the most part, and have wonderful friends in spite of myself. But as parents, don't we all hope that our kids will be higher up the social ladder of success than we were? Wasn't the plan to live vicariously THROUGH them to correct the pletura of social blunders we made ourselves? Ok - maybe not so much.... but it would have been nice, wouldn't it? I love my children and I don't really care whether they are "dorks" or not. I want them to be happy and make good choices. I've given up on hoping they will be well adjusted because, let's face it, I AM their mother afterall! (repeating mantra....make money to pay for the kids therapy later.... make money to pay for the kids therapy later...).
Now, let me give you a little background on this story. This is her first year in public school. Up until now she's been in a VERY SMALL, religiously based school. You could almost go so far to say that she was practically home schooled, because yes, when my kids went to school, so did I. I was their teacher for a time, part of the administration, the librarian, the computer teacher. You name it, I did it just so that I could be near and around them (Hmmm - so the crazy apple from my mother's tree didn't really roll away, it might have just thudded to the ground!). When I wasn't their teacher, their teachers were my best friends. I was always around and was able to gently caress their friendships, their activities in school, and how their classroom life was (gently caress just POSSIBLY could equate to control.... but... that's just a guess.. hehehe).
So this year, 5th grade for my daughter and 6th grade for my son, I decide it's time for them to join the rest of the planet in (can you hear it... dun dun DUN... scary movie sound track playing) public school! This was the HARDEST decision I have had to make yet in their little lives. So much of what our lives were about was wrapped up in the school they were going to. Our friends were there, all of my control (did I say that out loud???)..... you get the picture. Now - I went to public school and I wasn't popular, but I wasn't a dork either. I was a floater. I was smart, so I could hang out with the brainy crowd who just happened to be part of the athletic crowd too. I wasn't a MAJOR over achiever so I had the "middle rung" friends too. I went to a small school so the only kids I guess I really did NOT hang out with were the "druggies" (you know the ones - the kids who smoked and were the predacessors to the kids today the FBI keeps a file on). But when I decided to send the kids public school, all of the times I ever got picked on or teased or WISHED I had been TRULY "popular" came flooding back to me.
We live in a fairly affluent area so all I have ever heard about the public school system here is that its a building full of the have's and have nots. Even the guidance counselor said that the only negative he could think of with the school was that there was a "social structure" at the school based on the financial backgrounds of the parents (can you BELIEVE that!??) Financially, we're the have nots (at THIS point we're the have nots but - I keep repeating my mantra ... make money to pay for therapy for the kids later.... make money to pay for therapy for the kids later. It's a hell of an incentive!) so I have been FRANTICALLY trying to figure out how to get in with the "right crowd" so that my children would have the "right" friends (I know - you're shaking your head. I am too as I'm writing this.... but I have promised to be honest when I do this so I need to tell you the REAL story so that the end makes sense!). So, for the first few months of school I went to all the events, smiled nicely, and tried to talk to some of the other parents who seemed to be "in the know". But their "have" radar must have been on or something because THAT didn't work. Invites to join this committee or that committee or could my children come over to play just didn't pour in. So ok, I refocused my efforts. At this point, I decided, let's just focus on making sure the kids adjust and don't become one of the FBI friendly kids.
So I back peddled. I slowly but surely relinquished my fantasized control and decided to let the kids manage their own social lives for the first time. BUT LOOK WHAT HAPPENED WHEN I DID!!! She's a DORK! And PROUD OF IT!!! *sighing and laughing*..... Oh well - if truth be told....we're a family of dorks and I have lived by the same motto she is standing by today. I'm a dork - and I'm PROUD to be a dork. I managed to get through middle school, high school, and my brief sojourn at college being a dork and I still talk to various WONDERFUL friends that I made a long the way. As an adult, I'm comfortable with my "dorkness" for the most part, and have wonderful friends in spite of myself. But as parents, don't we all hope that our kids will be higher up the social ladder of success than we were? Wasn't the plan to live vicariously THROUGH them to correct the pletura of social blunders we made ourselves? Ok - maybe not so much.... but it would have been nice, wouldn't it? I love my children and I don't really care whether they are "dorks" or not. I want them to be happy and make good choices. I've given up on hoping they will be well adjusted because, let's face it, I AM their mother afterall! (repeating mantra....make money to pay for the kids therapy later.... make money to pay for the kids therapy later...).
Nestle's
So - I'm browsing around the Nestle website and they have this section called "Free Stuff". One of the free things they offer are screen savers and wallpaper for your computer of BAKED GOODS.
Now - let me ask you this - what LUNATIC in their right mind would download WALLPAPER for their computer of baked goods so that they would have THAT subliminal message ALLLLL DAY????
Yeah - that is JUST what my ever expanding ass needs......LESS WILL POWER! *shaking my head and laughing*
Now some stupid woman is going to download that and say it's her INSPIRATION to stay THIN. How she uses the picture as a test of her WILL to see if she can resist temptation.
GIVE ME A BREAK!!!!!
Now - let me ask you this - what LUNATIC in their right mind would download WALLPAPER for their computer of baked goods so that they would have THAT subliminal message ALLLLL DAY????
Yeah - that is JUST what my ever expanding ass needs......LESS WILL POWER! *shaking my head and laughing*
Now some stupid woman is going to download that and say it's her INSPIRATION to stay THIN. How she uses the picture as a test of her WILL to see if she can resist temptation.
GIVE ME A BREAK!!!!!
And.... WE'RE OFF!
Wow! This is soooo exciting! My own Blog. I guess everyone says that when they first get started, don't they? So let's dive right in....
Chaos. I swear that should have been my middle name. It's as though I am a DRAMA MAGNET without even trying! Ok - not even trying, that may not be so true.
Since this is my first post I suppose I should tell you a little about myself before I get started. I'm 36 years old at the moment (wait - I'm pausing to have a self-induced STROKE when I think about the fact that I'm 4 years from OMG - 40!) and the mother of 2. My son is 11 3/4 (he adds the 3/4 now because he is just SO excited about being ALMOST 12. Glad SOMEONE is excited about it!) and my daughter is 10 1/2 (well - officially on the 22nd, but... let's not split hairs). I have been divorced since February, 2001 officially and moved home to my mother's house that same month. I am the baby of the family (which as time goes on you will see explains A LOT!) and come from a LONGGGGGG line of Italians. For the benefit of you that only know about Italian families from Godfather movies or the Sopranos let me enlighten you on what TRULY being from an Italian family means......Everything they say in the movies and on the TV show is TRUE! LOL! Ok - we don't KILL anyone but threaten....maybe not seriously but I'm not going to be the one to test that theory out! We laugh hard, we play hard, and we fight hard. It allllll comes out in the wash at some point! I love being from an Italian family though. I can't imagine how other families do things. How do those of you who are not from Italian families go through life without all of the "rules"? Remind me as the days go on to tell you about the "rules". They are a SCREAM and a language all of their own!
So my friend told me once I should write a book called "Living with Mama - the last 10 years". Of course, my mother isn't dead yet so how the last part made sense was beyond me, but you get the idea.
My mother is definitely an interesting woman. God love her, she took the kids and I in when we really needed the help and she supports me in all that I do but.... for a price. The price of my SANITY! She is convinced that at the age of 36, I'm a bumbling idiot who can barely tie my own shoes. Now mind you - she doesn't just think this about me lest you say she may indeed be telling the truth. My sister, who is 17 years my senior, living in her own home with her husband of 33 years and who raised THREE wonderful children.... is a complete idiot too according to our mother. Now - she loves us... ask her - she'll tell you time and time again how she gave her LIFE for her children (yeah - the Italian guilt is THICK around here - I swear it should be considered an ART form!) and to anyone outside of these 4 walls, we are miraculous. But to us.... blithering idiots - lol - both of us.
Since I am, let's just say, the noisier of the 2 of us and actually LIVE with our mother, I, Oh joy Oh Joy!, get the lion's share of our mother's "praise". Did you ever see the show Gilmore Girls? Yeah - that's us but w/o the seperate homes or the New England reserve thrown in for good measure. And I, being the well-trained daughter that I am, unfortunately, usually answer my mother in kind. She would say that I'm "fresh and disrespectful". I would say for the most part, she is probably right. But as the 4th generation of women living with their mothers.... I say I earned my stripes. You see, my grandmother lived with her mother, my mother lived with her mother, and I am living with MY mother! Of course, I am the only one who did it solo, but still.... see the pattern? I'm convinced that I am going to HAVE to be independently wealthy to pay for my children's therapy as they get older. It's a sin the poor things....LOL... they are going to need LOTS of it!
So - this is the START of my attempt to chronical the chaos. Stay tuned, share your own stories, and buckle up because one thing I can promise you is - life with MamaS is ALWAYS exciting!
Chaos. I swear that should have been my middle name. It's as though I am a DRAMA MAGNET without even trying! Ok - not even trying, that may not be so true.
Since this is my first post I suppose I should tell you a little about myself before I get started. I'm 36 years old at the moment (wait - I'm pausing to have a self-induced STROKE when I think about the fact that I'm 4 years from OMG - 40!) and the mother of 2. My son is 11 3/4 (he adds the 3/4 now because he is just SO excited about being ALMOST 12. Glad SOMEONE is excited about it!) and my daughter is 10 1/2 (well - officially on the 22nd, but... let's not split hairs). I have been divorced since February, 2001 officially and moved home to my mother's house that same month. I am the baby of the family (which as time goes on you will see explains A LOT!) and come from a LONGGGGGG line of Italians. For the benefit of you that only know about Italian families from Godfather movies or the Sopranos let me enlighten you on what TRULY being from an Italian family means......Everything they say in the movies and on the TV show is TRUE! LOL! Ok - we don't KILL anyone but threaten....maybe not seriously but I'm not going to be the one to test that theory out! We laugh hard, we play hard, and we fight hard. It allllll comes out in the wash at some point! I love being from an Italian family though. I can't imagine how other families do things. How do those of you who are not from Italian families go through life without all of the "rules"? Remind me as the days go on to tell you about the "rules". They are a SCREAM and a language all of their own!
So my friend told me once I should write a book called "Living with Mama - the last 10 years". Of course, my mother isn't dead yet so how the last part made sense was beyond me, but you get the idea.
My mother is definitely an interesting woman. God love her, she took the kids and I in when we really needed the help and she supports me in all that I do but.... for a price. The price of my SANITY! She is convinced that at the age of 36, I'm a bumbling idiot who can barely tie my own shoes. Now mind you - she doesn't just think this about me lest you say she may indeed be telling the truth. My sister, who is 17 years my senior, living in her own home with her husband of 33 years and who raised THREE wonderful children.... is a complete idiot too according to our mother. Now - she loves us... ask her - she'll tell you time and time again how she gave her LIFE for her children (yeah - the Italian guilt is THICK around here - I swear it should be considered an ART form!) and to anyone outside of these 4 walls, we are miraculous. But to us.... blithering idiots - lol - both of us.
Since I am, let's just say, the noisier of the 2 of us and actually LIVE with our mother, I, Oh joy Oh Joy!, get the lion's share of our mother's "praise". Did you ever see the show Gilmore Girls? Yeah - that's us but w/o the seperate homes or the New England reserve thrown in for good measure. And I, being the well-trained daughter that I am, unfortunately, usually answer my mother in kind. She would say that I'm "fresh and disrespectful". I would say for the most part, she is probably right. But as the 4th generation of women living with their mothers.... I say I earned my stripes. You see, my grandmother lived with her mother, my mother lived with her mother, and I am living with MY mother! Of course, I am the only one who did it solo, but still.... see the pattern? I'm convinced that I am going to HAVE to be independently wealthy to pay for my children's therapy as they get older. It's a sin the poor things....LOL... they are going to need LOTS of it!
So - this is the START of my attempt to chronical the chaos. Stay tuned, share your own stories, and buckle up because one thing I can promise you is - life with MamaS is ALWAYS exciting!
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