Once Upon a Time at the Movies

Once Upon a Time I drove Timothy and a friend to the movie theater. Since it was the first time we allowed Timothy go to the movies alone, I walked them inside to make sure there were no problems with the tickets (which I had ordered earlier in the week) and to ... well ... watch them enter the theater.

We walked up to the lady who was scanning the tickets, and when she seemed puzzled that there were three of us standing there but only two tickets, I quickly explained what I was doing.

"Which one is your son?" she asked.

I pointed to Timothy.

"Do you know what a good mom you have?" she said to him.  "Your mom makes sure to know where you are, she knows your friends, she walks you inside to make sure there are no problems. What do you say?"

Poor Timothy looked like a deer in headlights.

"Thank you?" he sputtered.

"That will work," said the woman. "But you really need to say thank you GOD. You are a blessed to have a mom who takes care of you."

Well. How about that? I love people. 

I walked out to my car grinning like an idiot because sometimes …

sometimes it really does take a village. 

When I was Princess (a Once Upon a Time story)

Once upon a time we were sitting around the dinner table when I asked each of my boys (big and small) for one word that described me. I'm not sure why I did this, and in hindsight I see how this could have gone very badly, but I found their answers delightful. 

How my boys (big and small) described me ...

Joe: procrastinator

Nicholas: Italian

Jonathan: helpful

Timothy: a princess

Now, compared to Joe, the ENTIRE WORLD procrastinates, so I didn't take offense with his response, but for the record, I liked Timothy's answer best of all.

Then, a few weeks later we were driving to the beach when I had the following conversation with Timothy:

"Are you a princess?" he asked me.

"Well, actually I am a queen and Daddy is the king," I replied.

"A queen?!" he was indignant. "That's too old. Nope, you're a princess."

And there you have it. A princess. It may have been Once Upon a Time long, LONG ago ... but still. Once a princess, always a princess.

That's how it works in fairy tales.

The Story Behind a Book

Once upon a time, my high school Spanish club held a fund raiser which required each member to sell boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. This was so out of my comfort zone. We had only recently moved to Georgia and I was struggling – to fit in, to be less shy, to be happy when I just wanted my old life back in Italy. So the thought of going door-to-door selling doughnuts to strangers filled me with anxiety. In the end, I sold two boxes to an elderly couple who lived behind us and a few boxes to our neighbors across the street. I used my babysitting money to buy the rest. 

Why am I telling you this story?

This week I formally announced that my book, An Ocean, an Airplane, and Two Countries Fullof Kisses, was officially released and available for purchase. Truthfully, I could have made the announcement a week earlier, but I delayed because I wanted to do it in a way that didn’t make me feel as if I were selling those boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts.

And yet, if there is one thing I learned from writing this book is that I’m not that same person anymore. During those first years when I was trying to figure it all out, it was the written word—in all its forms—which gave me comfort. I read voraciously (my first job as a teenager was working in a library), I kept a journal, and I wrote stories. But mostly, it was the weekly letters from Nonna, my Italian grandmother, that gave me what I needed to keep trying. Nonna’s words (and her love) grounded me in ways nothing else could.

Eventually, I did find my way. Things became good, then better, and then even great.

It wasn’t until many years later when my mother and I were going through Nonna’s letters—years and years of letters—that I realized the true power of the written word. Just seeing Nonna’s handwriting helped me remember her hands, large and strong and thick-veined. Just reading her letters made me remember her passion, her laughter, and even what her voice sounded like. Her written words evoked memories, feelings, and more than a little nostalgia, and I recognized how so much of what she wrote and who she was could be woven into the fabric of my life—of who I was, am, and always will be.

The very next day I began writing An Ocean, an Airplane, and Two CountriesFull of Kisses.

So last week, while contemplating how to announce my book in a way that was meaningful, the image of the Spanish Club fundraiser and those pesky boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts popped into my mind. But you know what? The memory made me smile. I am not selling doughnuts anymore; in fact, I am so beyond those doughnuts.

I’m telling a story.

Because that’s who I am.

It’s that simple.

To purchase 

An Ocean, an Airplane, and Two Countries Full of Kisses 

visit any of the links below. 

(Incidentally, books last longer than doughnuts;-)

Amazon

https://www.marianovajosky.com/

(click on the "to purchase" button in the upper right hand corner)

Barnes & Noble

How Guys Pack (A Once Upon a Time Story)

Here's a story about Jonathan. I'm only posting it because he's received a lot of sympathy recently due to the extraction of his wisdom teeth this morning. But he's good with four less teeth because Jonathan is a MINIMALIST. Less is best. Why have extra teeth when four less will do?

Allow me to illustrate: this same cute, adorable Jonathan came home for the holidays and left half of his clothes back at school. Anyone else would have been scrambling to beg, borrow, or buy items of clothing, but not Jonathan. He had what he needed; besides, less clothes meant less packing and unpacking. So he's basically been wearing the same few outfits on repeat the entire time he's been home. Wear, wash, repeat. 

But I'm learning to look at the bright side. At least he came home with SOME clothes because ONCE UPON A TIME he didn't ...


Last weekend Jonathan came home for my birthday. He arrived Saturday before lunchtime and had plans to leave Sunday after lunch. (See what he did there? Impeccable meal timing.)

When he first walked in the door we chatted for a few minutes, after which I told him to go get his stuff out of the car.

"I don't have anything." he responded.

I stopped dead in my tracks. He was holding his phone, keys, and wallet. Nothing else.

"What are you wearing later?" I inquired.

"This," he said, gesturing to the clothes on his back.

"What are you going to wear to church tonight?" I wanted to know.

"This," he said, again with the gesture.

"Tomorrow?" I asked, knowing that the odds were not in my favor.

He didn't even respond. He just grinned.

And I was like ...

The Girl in Black Wears Blue

ONCE UPON A TIME I was walking through a department store between seasons (when winter merchandise is almost gone and spring merchandise is just starting to trickle in) when I spied this blue fitted wool coat on a clearance rack. It was the ONLY coat. The original price was a little over $200. I hadn't planned to buy a coat, but between the clearance markdown, a one-day sale, and a coupon it was marked down to ... wait for it ... $14. How could I resist? The fact is, I couldn't. THE END.

Like the Creepy Snake Scene from Indiana Jones

Once upon a time, after spotting a snake in our garage and watching it disappear into a hole in the wall, I wrote a post asking this question: Is it possible for snake to crawl up in the minivan's engine only to come slithering our of the air conditioning vent as I'm sitting in carpool line?

I really wanted to know, so I put the question out there.

Then I wished I hadn't. I got no reassurances whatsoever. Oh, the horror stories! A blogging friend of mine (a schoolmaster from Uruguay) summed it up like this: I'm sorry, Bia, but I think it's possible.

Huh. That will teach me to ask a question when I don't want to know the answer.

Then yesterday, I saw this outside our garage and it confirmed all my fears.

The Brawl on Main Street, USA (a Once Upon a Time story)

Once upon a time

... a mom and dad took their three sons to Disney World. It was a beautiful trip, truly magical, and they returned home with many, many happy memories.


Now, most people think Disney memories involve fairy dust, character hugs, prince and princesses, or pancakes, ice cream bars, and chicken nuggets shaped into Mickey Mouse ears. But for this family, the favorite, most stand-out memory involved a scuffle between two brothers, a scuffle which has since become the stuff of legends. It happened like this ...


One hot afternoon in the Magic Kingdom the family exited the Pirates of the Caribbean ride and spent some time browsing in the gift shop. (How do they do that? Every time you exit a ride --POOF! -- you're in a gift shop. It's magic, I tell you.) Anyway, Son #2 politely asked his parents for a Captain Jack Sparrow sword -- a three foot long Captain Jack Sparrow sword -- and since it was the last day of their vacation, and probably because the mom and dad were suffering from mild heat stroke, they agreed.


In hindsight ... WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?


That evening the family stayed to watch the nighttime parade and when it was over found themselves caught up with 500 million other people leaving the park at the same time. Sweaty people. Tired people. Lots of crying kids people. So the family shuffled shoulder to shoulder in a crowd of epic proportions until IT BEGAN.


"Stop it," said Son #1 to Son #2. "Your stupid sword is bumping into everybody."


Now, those were fighting words. A Captain Jack Sparrow Sword is most assuredly  NOT stupid and Son #2, who up to that point had been practically sleep walking, stood up straight and tall.


"You just need to move your stupid fat body," Son #2 shot back.


Some shoving ensued on both sides until all of a sudden Son #2  took a deep breath and morphed into Captain Jack Sparrow himself. (I'm pretty sure there were fireworks at this point). He drew his sword and, holding it with two hands, began swishing it about like the swashbuckler that he was. He lunged, he parried, and he swished.


Remember the crowds? Well, no one could move out of the way, so imagine if you will (and for effect imagine this in slow motion) everyone BENT BACKWARDS at the waist trying to avoid being decapitated. It was a very un-Disneylike moment.


Things were spiraling out of control, so the dad stepped into the fray and for a few moments all I could see was one set of long daddy arms, two sets of little boy arms, and the flashing sword. The dad finally managed to grab the sword and silence ensued. The battle was over. And as they shuffled along Son #1 was crying, Son #2 was crying, and the dad was carrying a Captain Jack Sparrow Sword over his shoulder.


And the mom? What was she doing?


She couldn't help it, she was laughing. The entire episode was so ridiculous it was funny.

The End

Bia the brunette, Ua the Blonde

Once upon a time

there were two sisters named Maria and Laura, except to their families they were known as Bia the Brunette and Ua the Blonde.

One day the sisters met for lunch in Aiken, SC to celebrate Bia's birthday. It had been three whole weeks since they last saw each other, and twelve hours since they last spoke on the phone, so they had a lot of catching up to do. They walked around the beautiful downtown area, talked about everything, and wandered in and out of the quaint shops lining the main street. At one point they were browsing in an art store featuring local artists.


"Hey Ua!" Bia called. "Come and look at this. It's us!"


She pointed to the wall where two pieces of weathered wood were hanging, one with a painting of a blonde girl, and the other a brunette. And it was true, they were Ua and Bia! The sisters laughed at their discovery and then headed to lunch at Malia's.


After a marvelous meal, and after sharing a huge slice of peanut butter pie, the two sisters kissed each other goodbye and headed home.


Two days later Bia the Brunette saw a package on her front porch. Curious, she carried it inside to open it.


It was from Ua the Blonde, and the contents made Bia both laugh and cry.

The End

Once Upon a Time We Bought a Car

Once upon a time (seventeen years ago, to be exact) we bought a car. The Dodge Neon wasn’t fancy, and it lacked all the bells and whistles which are the norm today (such as automatic door locks and windows), but it was sensible, affordable, and very, very reliable.

The original invoice

At the time of purchase, Nicholas was five years old, Jonathan was three, and Timothy wasn’t even born yet which (as Joe would say) meant he was -4 years old. And while the Neon technically wasn’t the “family car” (we had our van for that) it played an important role in our family and marked certain rites of passage.

In 2006 and 2009 Joe took the boys to a bowl game to see Penn State play (first Tampa then Orlando, both wins and both games played in the pouring rain). During both trips the boys were buckled in the back seat of the Neon wearing their Penn State sweatshirts and clutching their Penn State pillows.

Bowl Bound

They boys also learned all about car maintenance – how to change and rotate tires, check the oil, add washer fluid, and change the air filter. A few years later, both Nicholas and Jonathan learned to drive with the Neon, and it was the car they used once they earned their driver's license. 

Car Maintenance 101

I can do this!

Learning life skills

When the boys entered high school, we were still a two car family but on the days Joe’s carpool picked him up the boys used the Neon to drive to Aquinas, dropping off their little brother at St. Mary’s and picking him up again in the afternoon. They drove the Neon to prom, to work (Jonathan at Arby’s and Nicholas at Mellow Mushroom), and to their high school graduation.

Eventually we purchased a third car, enabling the boys (at different times) to have the Neon with them at college.

Heading to the Senior Prom

High School Graduation

All those years the Neon was also the date/getaway car for whenever Joe and I went out to dinner to celebrate an anniversary, or whenever the two of us had a weekend getaway (without the boys!) to Charleston, Asheville or Hilton Head.

Over time our trusty Neon began to show some wear and tear: bare patches in the paint, clouded headlights, a leaky floorboard, glitchy locks, a faded interior. The engine burned oil. It certainly wasn’t pretty, but it was still peppy and it could accelerate like nobody’s business.

Then last month while driving home from SRS, the Neon gave a little hiccup and simply quit, drifting slowly and laboriously to the edge of the road. Later that night we watched our trusty Neon, which had never broken down before, be hoisted onto a tow truck; the next day we listened to the mechanic as he told us that the timing belt was broken and couldn’t be replaced; and just like that, without any fanfare, we realized that our trusty Neon was no more.

It was salvaged for $350.

in the garage

When we went to the garage to sign the paperwork, there was our car – broken, taken apart, reduced to bits and pieces of this and that. We retrieved the phone charger, the jumper cables, a St. Christopher medal. We took some photos.

bits and pieces of this and that

saying goodbye to our trusty Neon

And we walked out thinking how Once upon a time – 17 tears ago, to be exact – we bought a car.

Afterword: After the Neon died, we did not purchase a new car . . . but Nicholas did; however, that is another story -- filed under Novajosky News -- coming up soon.