Arrivederci Ronald McDonald!

How about a McItaly for supper?

The new burger, introduced at a McDonald's restaurant in Rome near the historic Piazza di Spagna, features Italian beef, Asiago cheese, and an artichoke spread.

But I'll have to take their word for it. Going to Italy to eat at McDonald's...why, that's sacriligeous.



BTW, this very same McDonald's restaurant, with its columns, marble floors, and Roman statues, was voted the most beautiful McDonald's in the world by the Travel Channel.

Forty-One Days after Christmas

Okay. My loving, kind, dear sweet zia Tiziana is going to kill me. She is, really.

Every time my sister and I visit, we insist on looking at her and zio Luciano's wedding album. She hates her wedding photos, and here I am posting them on my blog.

And what's really annoying is that I am doing so to honor her birthday...except that it isn't her birthday.

Huh?!

You see, last year I wrote birthday posts to honor my zia Paola, my zio Silvio, and my zio Luciano. Tiziana did not get a birthday post because her birthday very inconveniently falls on the day after Christmas. I don't know what my Nonna was thinking.

Tiziana probably thought I forgot but, being the quiet person that she is, was probably also somewhat relieved.

But, fair's fair and this is her birthday post.

It is a well-known fact that I have hair issues, and as a little girl I was always envious of Paola's Cleopatra hair and Tizi's hair, which was a delicious strawberry blond...something my sister and I liked to point out to her all the time.

Us: Do you know what color your hair is? It's...
Tizi, interrupting with a sigh: Yes, yes I know. Strawberry blond.

And then we would sing Strawberry Fields, Forever to her, which was terribly annoying.

When I was pregnant with our first child (Nonna's first great-grandchild), my husband and I visited Italy during one of the hottest summers in history. We stayed with my aunt who, in spite of the tremendous heat wave, cooked us the most delicious meals. Later, we found out that during the entire time of our visit, my aunt also was pregnant...and she never said a word.

Today, I have a cousin that is my son's age. Pretty neat.

The most interesting thing about Tiziana, one that you don't at first notice because she is, after all, married to crazy zio Luciano, is that she has a wonderful sense of humor; really, she leaves me the funniest comments like this, this, and this. She even wrote a fantastic poem about Nutella.

Buon Compleanno, Tiziana! Next time you come, I'll show you our wedding album...bleck, ick, patooey.



And to make it up to you, I am also posting a photo of me...with you on your wedding day, which is cheating, I know. To be clear, the fashionable bride is my aunt, the cute blond is my sister, and I am the terribly awkward-looking one with the dark hair.

What's the lesson here . . .

for the young athlete who shows up for each and every basketball practice, but doesn't get noticed?

for the parents who cheer from the stands, clapping at each and every basket . . . none of them the young athlete's because he's sitting on the bench?

for the young athlete who sits on the bench, high fiving subs as they come in and out of the game?

for the parents who smile, painfully aware that the young athlete only played a minute in the first quarter, four minutes the entire game, or not at all?

for the young athlete who really is quite good but, for whatever reason, is never allowed to prove himself?

for the parents who contribute to the coach's gift, despite the fact he never gives the young athlete a chance?

for the young athlete who, after celebrating with the team, gets into the car discouraged and feeling inadequate?

for the parents who don't know what to say to him?

What's the lesson here?

If you have one, tell me, because I surely don't know.

Tuesdays with Nonna (part 2)

************************************
Tonight is Jonathan's turn.

Breakfast in a Cup

Last Sunday we stopped to get gas on the way home from church. My sons noticed an advertisement for breakfast in a cup, and they thought it the coolest idea ever.

Now, let me say right here and now that we are a cereal-granola-yougurt-fruit for breakfast kind of family. On weekends we might have muffins, but for the most part we get a good portion of our fruit, whole grains, and dairy servings for the day with this one meal.

The thought of breakfast in a cup -- scrambled eggs mixed with sausage pieces, all served in a leeching styrofoam cup with a plastic spoon -- made my skin crawl. And the fact that it was cooked and served in a gas station gave me indigestion.

I mean, ewwwww. Yuck.

But the boys talked about breakfast in a cup all. day. long. At noon, they suggested returning to the gas station and having breakfast in a cup for lunch. The subject came up again at dinner. Really, I was starting to feel like a mean, bad mommy.

So, this morning the boys came down to this...

Breakfast in a Cup, (the Mom version)

Sometimes One is not Enough

boys' school schedule, boys' sports schedule, dental appointments, social inc. schedule, joe's travel schedule, kindergarten volunteer schedule, birthdays, anniversaries . . . there just wasn't enough room on one calendar anymore.

so, i added another bulletin board and filled out two calendars: one for the boys' school/sports schedule, and one for everything else.

i even used color-coded pens (insert wink).

and that's what makes my monday: getting organized.

now go visit cheryl for some more makes my monday fun!

-grazie, jill, for the italia calendar
-grazie, dami & irene, for the canadian calendar!

My Husband Wants His Wisdom Teeth Pulled, Too

...especially when he saw this homemade card that Nonna and Nonno gave Nicholas post surgery.

Note reads:

Poor Nicholas! Ouch!

Sometimes Pain Pays!

Nonno and Nonna