...and this is why we don't play football in the house!
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Goodbye, My Shadow
Dear Little One,
You know how Peter Pan felt when he lost his shadow? Well, that's how I feel today on this, your first day of preschool. For the past four years you have been my shadow, accompanying me everywhere: Bible Study, carpool, luncheons, weekday Mass, library. The one constant of my days has been you at my side.
This morning I went to the grocery store and you weren't there to mix up my coupons or beg for a matchbox car. I didn't have to explain in two words ("morning snack") to the checkout lady when she asks why the potato chips, the fruit snacks, or the animal cookies were all open.
And now you're off on your own, experiencing exciting adventures, meeting new friends, learning new things, and discovering the beautiful world that is out there. You will have fun, of that I am sure.
But I will miss you. It seems that once a mother gives birth, she then spends the rest of her life letting her baby go.
You know how Peter Pan felt when he lost his shadow? Well, that's how I feel today on this, your first day of preschool. For the past four years you have been my shadow, accompanying me everywhere: Bible Study, carpool, luncheons, weekday Mass, library. The one constant of my days has been you at my side.
This morning I went to the grocery store and you weren't there to mix up my coupons or beg for a matchbox car. I didn't have to explain in two words ("morning snack") to the checkout lady when she asks why the potato chips, the fruit snacks, or the animal cookies were all open.
And now you're off on your own, experiencing exciting adventures, meeting new friends, learning new things, and discovering the beautiful world that is out there. You will have fun, of that I am sure.
But I will miss you. It seems that once a mother gives birth, she then spends the rest of her life letting her baby go.
mille bacioni,
Mommy
Thursday, August 28, 2008
And he picked me
I was all set to write about Mr. Benanti who still ranks as my #1 favorite teacher of all time, but today I want to share the story of another teacher. He was my teacher one Friday afternoon in my last class of the day. I don't remember what he specifically taught...and to this day I don't even know his name.
When we moved back to the U.S. at the beginning of high school, I was enrolled in a new school in the middle of the December. I was painfully shy, and terribly homesick for the life I had in Vicenza, Italy. And because classes were overfilled, the guidance counselor stuck me in a drama class.
Me. In drama class. With 28 loud, dramatic students who had known each other since kindergarten. Every single day I dreaded that class.
One Friday afternoon the drama teacher announced that we would be having a guest speaker: a Shakespearean actor from a company performing at our local college. When he walked into the classroom all the girls sighed. He was tall, blond, very, very handsome, and quoted Shakespeare. Thinking back on it today, I suppose he looked a little like John Tesh.
I was so enthralled listening to him...that is, right until the moment he asked for a volunteer. My heart stopped beating. Twenty-eight enthusiastic hands shot up into the air while I mentally pleaded, Please-please-please don't pick me.
The Shakespearean actor looked around, walked all the way to the back of the classroom, took my hand, and escorted me to a small stage in front of the classroom.
Amazingly, I didn't have to say a word. He was speaking of body language on stage and wanted the class to help stage/direct us. So he sat me turned away from him and asked the class how he could get my attention. Following directions from the other students he walked around me and sat facing me; he took me by the shoulders to make a point; he gently put his hand on my chin and turned my head to face him.
At the end of the lesson he took my hand as I stepped down from the stage. He escorted me back to my seat, and in a very Shakespearean gesture dramatically kissed my hand as a thank you.
To this day I still remember that moment. A handsome actor, teaching Shakespeare for one hour to some high school students, did a miraculous thing for a quiet, lonely, terribly shy teenager. He helped transform her from someone who was pleading please, please don't pick me, to someone who later walked out of that classroom thinking HE PICKED ME!
(Note: Today's homage to great teachers is hosted by Laura at Catholic Teacher Musings. Check out her site for other beautiful stories on inspirational teachers, and/or leave a link with her to share one of your own. Have you hugged a teacher today?)
When we moved back to the U.S. at the beginning of high school, I was enrolled in a new school in the middle of the December. I was painfully shy, and terribly homesick for the life I had in Vicenza, Italy. And because classes were overfilled, the guidance counselor stuck me in a drama class.
Me. In drama class. With 28 loud, dramatic students who had known each other since kindergarten. Every single day I dreaded that class.
One Friday afternoon the drama teacher announced that we would be having a guest speaker: a Shakespearean actor from a company performing at our local college. When he walked into the classroom all the girls sighed. He was tall, blond, very, very handsome, and quoted Shakespeare. Thinking back on it today, I suppose he looked a little like John Tesh.
I was so enthralled listening to him...that is, right until the moment he asked for a volunteer. My heart stopped beating. Twenty-eight enthusiastic hands shot up into the air while I mentally pleaded, Please-please-please don't pick me.
The Shakespearean actor looked around, walked all the way to the back of the classroom, took my hand, and escorted me to a small stage in front of the classroom.
Amazingly, I didn't have to say a word. He was speaking of body language on stage and wanted the class to help stage/direct us. So he sat me turned away from him and asked the class how he could get my attention. Following directions from the other students he walked around me and sat facing me; he took me by the shoulders to make a point; he gently put his hand on my chin and turned my head to face him.
At the end of the lesson he took my hand as I stepped down from the stage. He escorted me back to my seat, and in a very Shakespearean gesture dramatically kissed my hand as a thank you.
To this day I still remember that moment. A handsome actor, teaching Shakespeare for one hour to some high school students, did a miraculous thing for a quiet, lonely, terribly shy teenager. He helped transform her from someone who was pleading please, please don't pick me, to someone who later walked out of that classroom thinking HE PICKED ME!
(Note: Today's homage to great teachers is hosted by Laura at Catholic Teacher Musings. Check out her site for other beautiful stories on inspirational teachers, and/or leave a link with her to share one of your own. Have you hugged a teacher today?)
Monday, August 25, 2008
The Case of the Super Wart
E-mail from my middle son to my brother, who is a doctor:
Dear Uncle David,
I need to chop off a wart. I tried freezing it 2 times and nothing happened. It only got a little smaller. Please tell me what to do!!!!!
JONATHAN with warty finga
My brother's reply:
Dear Jonathan with Nasty Warty Finga...
First of all, don't touch me. Don't even come near me with your Nasty Warty Finga.
And I hope you're not typing with your Finga, 'cause then the keyboard will get
all Nasty and grow warts, too...
Besides that, you should probably let a doctor freeze it off. The over-the-counter wart Freezer Thingies are not as strong. You probably shouldn't try it anymore on your own for that particular Superwart.
Call your doctor, but don't make The Wart mad, or else he'll Take Over the World.
Uncle Dave
Is He Even My Son?
Advice from Jonathan as we are walking into Lowe's to buy a new toilet seat.
"Don't buy a boring one. Get one with fur, or something."
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Dark Chocolate, Kisses, and...George Burns (?!)
My friend Laura has invited me to share with the entire blogging community six quirky traits...well, hold on to your hats. To start off the quirkiness I'm going to forgo the list and do a top six countdown to my #1 quirkiest trait.
6. No dark chocolate for me...only milk chocolate.
5. I've never purchased a Lottery ticket.
4. I can't eat a sandwich if I don't have potato chips to go with it.
3. Unmade beds drive me crazy. We make our beds every morning, and if for some weird reason it doesn't get done, that night I will totally make it before getting into bed.
2. When I kiss my boys on the cheek I just can't kiss them once. I have to give them two or three kisses, one right after another. Being boys they don't like it. But I can't help myself. It's written in my genes...my Nonna used to do the same thing.
1. My #1 quirky trait? I have the most fantastic, vivid dreams. For example, last night I had a dream that I was at a picnic held in a giant field. Everyone was sitting on blankets, but for some reason I was walking somewhere. Suddenly, George Burns steps in front of me, says that he's been looking for someone to dance with, and then starts dancing and twirling me around the field while everyone claps. Now, you would think that with it being a dream I could have my pick of dance partners like...oh, I don't know...MATT DAMON or MR. DARCY. But no, I had to dance with George Burns who I'm not even sure is still alive. (Maybe my dream made a mistake and got the wrong George...it's George Clooney, silly me. Not George Burns!) Well, to make it even more strange, George was wearing a white glove and I remember thinking (in my dream): I am dancing with George Burns who is channeling Michael Jackson.
Believe me, I couldn't make this stuff up. Just ask my husband...he's used to it. This morning when I asked him if he wanted to hear my dream about George Burns it didn't even phase him.
Now, consider yourself tagged.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Hoodwinked
Our four year old has been saying "no" to everything.
In exasperation we finally said, "You, Mister Fister, are not allowed to say 'no' anymore."
"YES I CAN!" he yelled. (He was not having a good day.)
"Excellent! We like how you just said yes," we replied calmly.
To which he looked thoroughly confused and slightly insulted...as if we tricked him, or something.
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