Category: Home

Being conscious of treasures

Leave a comment

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.  ~Thornton Wilder

I am making a conscious effort each day to step back at certain moments in time, be it with the kids or work colleagues or Jon or by myself, and appreciate the moment for what it offers to me.  These small retreats build up, and by the time evening rolls in and I am putting on my pjs alongside Maria and Mario, I generally feel grateful for what life has offered me through the day (there are those rare evenings where even a day full of wonderful moments can be demolished by a child going through a temper tantrum). 

There are tons of books and magazines and blog sites touting the benefits of gratitude but it’s not until you actually make that conscious effort of practicing it that it hits home.  I feel more serene when I go to sleep, more hopeful during my day, more positive in my outlook.  Overall, I guess I would say I am more “happy” – whatever that looks like. I simply feel more alive and more connected.

Today, I got to take a run in the morning for the first time in two weeks.  Jon stayed with Mario while I ran through the neighborhood and lifted weights at the gym.  Listening to NPR for 45 minutes was the best gift I could receive from Jon.  On my run home, as I listened to Michael Jackson’s Beat It and looked at the gardens lining our street, I had one of those step-back moments.  I felt an intense swelling of gratitude for Jon, and his selflessness in letting me get up in the mornings to do the thing I love to do.  I also felt grateful for my legs – yeah, my legs!  For allowing me to be able to run the distance I am able to run and let my mind drift as I listen to stories and news on NPR.  It is such a treasure for me.

Later in the day, when I came home from work to find Mario and Jon already back from school, I felt that surge of gratitude rise again.  Mario popped out of the family room with a whopping smile on his face telling me to close my eyes.  When I opened, he had his home-made graduation cap on his head and the same smile across his face. 

“I graduated today, mom!”

Some in his class graduated to Kindergarten today but they let all of the kids make caps (always politically correct).  He was so proud of his creation.  We took a bike ride later to get his haircut, and while on the bike, he asked me to sing to him.  I sang him a rhyming song about how much I loved my boy cuz he was just like a toy, and his toes tasted like soy… (yeah, I know, pretty lame except to a four-year old), and he turned around laughing at me.  It was the sweetest moment.  I replay it in my head as I sit here tonight, and it still makes me smile as I think about it.  When we got to the salon, he made me move away from him while the gal cut his hair because he wanted to be alone with her.  He wanted to tell her how he wanted his hair.  I sat in the seat up front the entire time without him ever calling out for me.  When she finished, he got out of his chair, and walked over to me. 

“What do you think, mom?”

“You look awesome, dude.”

He walked over to the mirror and put his hand through his hair, and nodded his head up and down.  He knew he looked good.  Man, I am grateful for that nut. 

When we got home, Jon told me that he called Maria at Grandma Ionno’s house.  Patty told him how Maria kept her and Joe laughing throughout the day with her quips.  She was telling a story to Patty and Joe and Joe closed his eyes.  She looked at Patty and said “I guess the story was a little long – no wonder Grandpa fell asleep!”  That girl has got a personality to last a lifetime, and I am grateful beyond words to have her in my life (and I miss her like mad – get home, pumpkin girl!).

I am thankful for this consciousness of treasures I continue to sharpen in my daily life.  Now, off to a good-night’s sleep.

Is it really only 10:30 am?

Leave a comment

The kids and I went to Cincinnati last night for a family wedding.  Grandma Meg and Peepaw joined us for the festivities along with Meg’s sisters and their kids.  Meg’s sister, Mindy and her husband Danny hosted the gala for their daughter Amy.  Amy is a down-to-earth, sporty, happy gal who seems utterly smitten with her new husband, Todd.  Todd seems like a carbon copy of Amy (minus the “gal” and add “guy!”).  They smiled throughout the wedding ceremony and had a blast at the reception (Todd did a dirty dance in front of Amy before taking off the garter and Mario and Maria were completely entranced). 

The family partying it upMario played around with four or five boys who all knew each other from Todd’s side of the family.  They did not invite him in but Mr. Mario asked his Aunt Kathy if she would introduce him to the boys, which she did, and it was over from there.  He fit right in when he wanted to play with them (the only bit of crying came when he collided with an 80 pound kid and got knocked into the side of the door).  Maria was perfectly happy not conversing with any kids, but rather, hanging out with the adults.  She sat with Meg’s cousin, Suzanne and her husband.  She enjoyed ribbing Suzanne’s husband about anything she could, and sitting close to Suzanne to talk about video games.  After Suzanne, she moved onto Kathy’s stepson, Miles and his fiancée, dragging Miles on the dance floor and out to the pond.  They were all wonderful with her, and very patient. 

After the wedding, we headed to my mom’s house to spend the night.  We petted Lou for a while since we had never been with him in his house.  He loved the kids.  We woke up at the break of dawn (6:45 am) and played with Lou and his tennis ball for an hour before getting ready to hit the road.  We had to go to Target first since Mario’s flip flops rubbed his feet wrong.  Next came McDonald’s for some quick breakfast.  Then, French Park. 

My old childhood park that I used to frequent with my best friend, Beth.  I love walking through that park.  My mom was quite impressed with it, too (as was Lou).  The trails are magnificent – patches of shade with huge fairy tale trees covering you, patches of bright sunlight with wildflowers, and patches of dark with troll bridges and ferns everywhere.  We walked the creek for a long time, too.  It had just enough walks to jump from to not get soaked but high enough standing water for the kids to get good splashes.  At the end of the trail, Maria took a good fall trying to climb onto a boulder and got a good chunk of skin off of her elbow and knee.  Nonetheless, as I always report, she is a machine and once the initial shock and cry hit, she was a trooper heading back to the car and into Grandma’s bathtub. 

On the way home, neither mom nor I was coherent.  We were exhausted from what felt like a “long day.” So how was it only 10:30 am?  Ridiculous.  There should be some rule that when kids get up so early and your day starts while most people are in REM sleep, you get to fast forward the clock 4 hours.  When we got home, the kids took and bath and played around.  Then we had to head up to Marx Bagels for some bagels and cream cheese (my favorite!). 

After bagels, we hung outside with Lou while the kids “spied” on us.  Julie got home in the meantime, and the kids begged to stay to see Baby Gracie.  She arrived a bit later and walked in the door exclaiming “Mary!”  How could I leave before hearing that punker-wunker call my name!?  The kids played downstairs while I cleaned and talked to Liz and Julie and helped Julie move coffee tables and tvs all around.  We left CIncy around 3:30 and within ten minutes, both Maria and Mario were sawing logs.  Out cold.  So I debated stopping at Pottery Barn outlet at Washington Courthouse but I could not resist.  When I stopped the car, and wiggled their legs to get up, they both bellowed “No!”  They cried and hit the seats with their feet.  They were pissed (now they get a taste of their medicine when they wake me up everyday at 6:30 am)! We finally made it into Pottery Barn (Mario on my right hip and Maria dragging beside me) only to find no good selection of rugs.  Ugh!

So, I treated them to McDonald’s Playland.  The Washington CH Playland just got renovated and it is actually quite nice.  Mario, again, made friends immediately with two other boys who were brothers.  Maria decided to stay by her mom because her side hurt from her fall.  After letting Mario play for a half hour we took off for Columbus.  Maria begged me from the back seat to let her give Mario the horn I bought him.  I bought it for him a week ago and told him if was good all week, he would get it.  Maria convinced me he had been good since he did not scream in the middle of the wedding, and he said “thank you” when Grandma Lolo gave him food.  Pretty high standards, heh?!

As soon as we stepped in the door, Maria grabbed the horn and gave it to Mario.  The whole neighborhood knew about the present because he honked it incessantly for ten minutes straight.  We hooked it on his bike (with training wheels) and took a two-mile bike ride to our old house and back.  When we got home, the kids rested to a tv show while I mowed the grass (which looked like the grasslands).  When I finished the lawn, Maria and I played baseball.  Mario watched his last Ben Ten.  We wrapped the night up with mac-n-cheese and chicken and two books about telling the truth and a pig going to camp.  Does it get any better than that? 

When I headed outside to take out the lawn clippings, my neighbor commented about how she couldn’t believe that I could mow the grass and water the lawn in such a speedy time.  I told her about our entire day and she laughed hysterically.  “Do you ever stop,” I believe she asked, but I was already at the top of the driveway grabbing the last lawn bag to put out front.

Gratitude Runneth Over

1 Comment

I have been struggling over the last few weeks with the meaning of my existence.  Ya know, just a light topic to ponder during the day.  Colleagues think I am a blast!  

My crewIn actuality, it is not so much pondering the meaning of my existence as it is pondering what I want to get out of this life.  What do I want to accomplish?  Where will I be in five years?  These heavy questions can weigh me down very quickly, and I have been searching for a way to lift myself out of it when I move from productive questioning to destructive judgment. 

I have found that one exercise is particularly helpful in stabilizing me, at the least, and boosting me, at the most. It is the practice of gratitude.  As soon as I catch myself wallowing in self-pity or feeling like I am not contributing enough, I think of something for which I am grateful.  Today it was a family soccer game.  Jon tried to score on Mario.  Maria and I ran around waiting for our turn.  Jon and I tried to see how many head balls we could do to one another before the ball fell to the ground (don’t ask, it was not impressive).  We all laughed together at Mario’s dives and Maria’s antics.  It was a most enjoyable half of an hour as the sun began to set.  It allowed me to remember to not get so wrapped up in the analysis of everything but to just relax (not a mainstream word in my vocab).  

I have an incredible family and I have a wonderful home and I mean so much to M&M and Jon and friends and cousins.  I don’t have to solve world hunger in order to have accomplished something in my life.  That is not to say that I want to cease questioning where I am and what I want.  To the contrary, this practice of gratitude actually motivates me to want to do more, to challenge myself, to think about what I want to do in the years ahead.  

I am trying to consciously practice this art of gratitude everyday because I feel happier and less anxious when I do it.  It relaxes me.  And it is not that hard.  I could look solely to M&M everyday for something for which to be grateful but I can also look to Jon (most days!), colleagues, the grocery store, you name it.  I think we have so many things happen to us through the day, and we encounter so many people, that we could all fill up our lives practicing gratitude.

Remember that teenager who held the door for you or that old lady who smiled so sweetly at you?  Remember when someone laughed at your lame joke or told you how great you looked?  Remember when your child looked up at you and said “I love you?”  Remember when your partner gave you a goodbye kiss?  Remember when your favorite song came on the radio? Remember when you spotted a cardinal on the rose-bush?

Sitting still

Leave a comment

Maria and I hung out this evening while Jon and Mario drove to Marion. Prior to their drive to Marion, we made dinner.  Actually, I should say, Maria made dinner.  She overheard a lady at the salon talking about how she made dinner for her mom starting when she was 6 years old, and that was all it took to get Maria in that mindset. 

She poured pancake mix and water into a bowl.  She filled a bowl full of chocolate chips and tried to mash them.  When that didn’t work, she microwaved them (smart girl).  She added the chocolate into the pancake mix.  I poured them on the griddle and she flipped them.  She also made eggs (she microwaved them).  She got out our plates and syrup.  She nearly did it all!  Another year and I expect chicken parmesan and shrimp scampi….  And the chocolate pancakes were pretty darn good.  I could have stood a few chips in them too but overall they hit the spot.  Mario ate a few but he was too excited about going to Grandma Ionno’s house. 

After dinner, Maria took off with me on her bike.  We stopped at her friend’s house to play in the sprinkler (in her clothes) and by the time we left, it was close to 8:15.  We cranked it home and I pulled out the lawn mower.  I told Maria to grab a book or her markers and come outside while I mowed.  A few minutes later, I saw her on the deck with her water and crazy straw.  She sat on the deck chair watching me without any book or markers.  When I moved to the front, she moved with me sitting on the front step with, still,  just her water and straw.  I kept waiting for her to grab something from inside or complain about being bored but she didn’t.  She just waited for me to finish while sitting patiently and thinking about … well, I have no clue. And that is good.  It was her time to be still and mindful.  And I was so excited to see her be able to do this, and not be begging for the iPad or leapster or even a book. 

Something I have a hard time doing.  

But seeing her renewed my challenge to take that itme to be mindful myself.  Funny how your children look up to you without having any idea how much you learn from them.  And so tonight, I sat at the kitchen table for a whole five minutes before I scanned the computer for the latest news and updates.  Hey, it’s better than nothing!

Moral dilemmas over dinner

1 Comment

Jon’s brother, Kevin, posed a juicy moral dilemma situation to all of us as we sat around the kitchen table last night.  Now that is the way I could start my evening meal every night.

Kevin came to visit us from out-of-town with his wife, Margie, and their daughter Dagmawit.  Kevin’s oldest daughter, Shari, and her family came, too.  Mario loves Shari’s grandson, Isaiah, because he is spastic and loves to play fight just like Mario.  Maria loves Dagmawit and Shari’s two daughters, Emi and Eli because they play dress up and act silly and love to dance.  The kids ran all around the yard and the basement while we sat down and talked over a glass of wine and take-out from Aladdin’s. 

Kevin’s question sure got the talking started, and set up an engaging, thoughtful dialogue about all sorts of things.  The conversation provided a breath of fresh air, and I enjoyed sitting around with a group of intelligent adults talking about religion and politics and the economy.  Jon and I don’t get out enough with friends and family to do that.  We get so caught up in the thick of work and homework and baths and laundry that we forget to communicate about the latest social issues and news.  I used to have conversations like that all the time when I was younger and I don’t want to lose that engagement in my “old age” or should I say my “parenting age.”   

The Cousins (and Micah butting in the picture!)Meanwhile, the girls were dressing up in short dresses and heels and spreading bright pink lipstick on their lips.  The boys darted in the room with matching spiderman costumes.  They all enjoy each other’s company, and I appreciate that we have a family that gets along so well.  Maria was so bummed when they left for the night – she talked about how much fun she had with Dagmawit and Emi and Eli.  She reiterated a wish that she has expressed before; to have a sister.  When I pressed her about how great Mario was, she finally conceded that she loves him to death but that she would also love to have a sister around the house.  When I told her that sisters can get in fights a lot, she says she is used to it because her and Mario fight a lot.  She always has a retort.  Mario begged to have Isiah over for a play date again.  I wish we could borrow Isaiah for two hours every night so Mario could get out all of his energy by wrestling him, and get to bed at a decent hour.  

The night ended with a resolution to talk more with Jon about the latest world event and issues to make sure we keep these brains or ours a rollin’ with something other than parenting concerns of who paid the tuition and whether the kids’ school shirt got washed.  And god knows there is no dearth of issues to keep us from talking….

Sweet Mornings

Leave a comment

Mario kills me. I know one day he will stop doing what he has been doing for the last few months but I hope it is far into the future because it makes my morning.  

Doll Baby BoyMost mornings I take Maria to school and Jon takes Mario.  Maria and I get out the door first since she needs to be at school at 8:10.  Nearly every morning, Mario yells “Mom” before I close the door.  I peek inside and he is holding his arms wide with his little boxers on and his baby skin glistening.  I run to where he is planted, and he gives me the hugest bear hug he can muster.  Then he plants a perfect peck of a kiss on my cheek.  He tops it off with a “Have a good day, mom.  I love you.” 

Really?  Does it get any better than that to start your day?  I know, I know, I can hear my friends with teenage boys now: “enjoy it while you can because pretty soon he will be sweaty and gross and not want you to talk to him.”  Probably true so I am making sure to plant these morning moments in my head so I can look back years from now and still revel in them.

You may be a redneck…

1 Comment

I was supposed to go to dinner with a friend tonight (that fiasco is a long story not to be told tonight) so I had Maggie come over to babysit.  She sent me this picture via text:

All I could hear was Jeff Foxworthy in my head saying “You may be a redneck if… you enjoy sitting in your bean bag on the sidewalk in front of your house.”

At least they were “reading” novels and not wrestling magazines (Mario’s favorite when we go to Kroger’s).  However, I now understand why Jon always gets on me about making them play in the backyard!

Mario Returns

Leave a comment

Mario returned home from Grandma and Grandpa Ionno’s house this evening.  He wasn’t in the door for ten minutes before he asked them to go back to their house.  I have no doubt that he would be just fine visiting us every other weekend and living day in and day out with Patty and Joe. 

He hid from me when I got home from work and only when I faked crying for two minutes did he come out from his hiding place and give me a big ol’ smooch and hug.  His arms wrapped around me felt like a piece of heaven.  Could I just bottle up that feeling and open it up on those days I feel like jumping out my window?! 

But within 30 seconds of giving me a hug, he begged me to wrestle him.  That is all he wants to do anymore.  Wrestle or box.  He could do it all day long.  I can last about 15 minutes.  Maria joined in after 15 minutes and within 5 minutes, Mario hit Maria in the mouth (truly an accident, I think) and she slapped him the face.  The crying and screaming ensued.  I wrapped up the WWF and moved us up to the bath where I hoped the warm bath water would calm them down. It did nothing but cause water to be splashed everywhere. 

After our bath, we headed downstairs for the most random combination of dinner food possible.  Pancakes, hash browns, hot dogs, hot pockets, cottage cheese and cheesy veggies.  Just the sound of the combination makes me gag but it wasn’t bad while we were eating it.  I grabbed two loads of laundry that needed folding and brought it into the family room to fold while we watched Blues Clues (haven’t watched that show in two years).  I didn’t have to say a word to Mario and he dove right in to help me fold.  Maria not so much.  She draws the line at certain chores and laundry is one of them.  She gets away with it for now but another few months and she is in for a rude awakening.

Mario is the most meticulous clothes folder I have met.  Even a more amazing feat when you consider that he is four years old.  He folds clothes over three or four times and makes sure that there are no edges sticking out before he hands them over to me to put in the pile.  It is hilarious.  He is going to be one of those people whose closets are in such complete and total order that you wonder how they function in the real world.  Then again, I am probably completely off base because I see his closet and floor and they are both a disaster area full of unkept clothes and shoes. 

After folding, we drew pictures.  Maria drew me a picture of roses and I drew her a picture of a tree and birds and a swingset.  I exhibit the poorest, saddest, drawing ever for a forty-year old.  The drawing look identical to drawings I made at age 8.  At least my writing is a tad better.  Mario drew a picture of a sunflower for Grandma and Grandpa to thank them for having him over this week.  It was precious.  We missed the little bugger although it was nice for Jon and I to relax together from 9 pm onward.  Maria always fell asleep at a normal hour.  Here we are tonight as I write this with Mario dancing around the downstairs waving his arms and singing “I’m sexy and I know it!”  It is 10:45 pm.

Broken windows and dreams

Leave a comment

We survived the holiday weekend.  Maria’s cousin, Alana stayed with us from Saturday through Monday morning.  I love having her over because the girls get along so well.  They go up to Ri’s room and play barbies or listen to Justin Bieber or play Pet Shop in the basement.  I can actually read a little bit of a book or clean the house without having Maria at my heels asking me to play.  Alleluia.  And I love that they are so close.  I wish I would have been as close to my cousin when I was little.  They are good for each other, too.  Maria shows Alana how to be more daring and Alana shows Maria how to play something for more than three minutes.

Mario stayed at Grandma Ionno’s house on Saturday night until Sunday.  He loves himself some Grandma and Grandpa time because he is all by himself and spoiled to death.  He gets to wrestle, show-off, watch tv, and lay around in his pjs.  Not a bad life.  He did want to come home on Sunday night, however, because he knew Alana would be there.  Jon explained to him that the girls may want alone time and Mario chirped back “Alana will want to play with me because she tells me all the time how cute I am.” Oh, ok…. We gotta watch that head of his.

When he walked in, the girls showered him with hugs and love (no wonder his head is big).  They all went upstairs and played “Big Time Rush”. This game consists of Maria and Alana being themselves and Mario being one of the BTR singers.  He played James when we saw him.  He walked by us with his nose in the air as Maria and Alana fawned over him.  It seemed to come natural to him – scary.

I walked up to Stauf’s to do some reading around 5 pm.  Jon watched the kids.  I got a call around 5:45 from Jon.  “Get home now” he stated firmly.  “Mario punched his window out.” My mind leapt to blood everywhere, glass shattered all over.  Luckily, his had suffered a couple of cuts with no glass in them and the glass mostly landed on the roof.  Jon had already subjected him to the wall when I arrived home.  He held a tissue on his hand.  He looked like a mean mama-jamba.  He looked like a prize-fighter.  Jon and I are in for it.  I made him put alcohol on it so that he felt the sting – until that time, he really didn’t see any negative consequences to his behavior.  After I stung him with the alcohol, he cried and shouted “I don’t want to do that again!”  When Jon asked him why he would want to punch his window, this was his response: “I wanted to get on the news.” Oh, are we truly in trouble.

Mario showing his wounds

After that chaos, the kids fell asleep in Maria’s room; Maria and Alana in the bed and Mario on the floor in his sleeping bag and band-aid. 

On Monday, we all talked about what an incredible figure Martin Luther King was and is in our society.  Both girls knew what he stood for and what he fought against.  I told Maria how we walked across the Broad Street bridge when she was one year old in order to honor him.  She couldn’t remember.  Mario knew that MLK “had a dream.” I told him how I remember going to his classroom when he was two and seeing his picture on the bulletin board.  The teachers had taught the kids about MLK’s famous “I have a dream” speech.  They then had the kids tell them what they dreamed of.  The words underneath Mario’s picture were “I dream of ‘popsicles’!” 

Thanks for giving us dreams, Martin Luther King, Jr.