a little normal

I feel like a did something normal finally. I sat and watched the Godfather with mom in her bedroom. We've been so busy unpacking and settling in our new house that I've taken very little time to enjoy simple, normal things.

It was great watching that movie with an Italian! She answered all my questions "What's a consiliary?" "What part of Sicily are they in?" "How do you translate that bad word?" I felt like an insider.

anniversary

Today marks the two week anniversary of moving our parents in. We celebrated with food, of course. I made a fun waffle and blueberry breakfast this morning. Dad's waffles were "raw" so I had to pop them back into the toaster oven. I'm learning how to perfect their favorite foods. They both like their waffles really brown.

Also learned not to put mayonnaise on their tuna salad sandwiches. The preference is olive oil and lemon. Makes sense, doesn't it?

Small spoon with ice cream, big spoon with cereal.

Real plate (not paper) with anything saucy.

Hunt's tomato sauce is the best.

Shepherd's bread for dad. Wheat for mom.

Whole milk for coffee.

Orange marmalade for dad. Strawberry for mom.

Thermostat set at 76 degrees.

Oh yeah, and toilet paper role with the paper rolling up and over not down and under.

After two weeks, I think I'm getting it down! (Patting myself on the back!)

We are all adjusting really well and everyone is settling in nicely.

Dad takes his daily walk out the back door, down one step, turn the corner, walk the side yard to the front gate and back inside.

Mom ventures out a little further. She takes her walker and one of my girls and walks the length of our street under the shade trees. I'm proud of her.

This week we are taking her to the movies to see Despicable Me and then out to lunch.

When her granddaughter comes in two weeks, we are planning on making pizza. OH! You haven't eaten pizza like this, I guarantee!

It's good to have things to look forward to.

I'm looking forward to dinner tonight, because we ordered in!

Brighton Ashleigh

Look out world, here she comes!

My cell phone rang this morning at 4 am. It was Ryan, my friend Listay's husband. "We are on our way to the hospital." I've been "on call" for a few weeks, as I have the amazing privilege of being in the birth room to support my friend through her labor.

I've never been on this end of it before and I'm very excited.

Right now it is 4:30 pm. Contractions are 1.5 minutes apart and the nurses think she will deliver before 6 pm.

This is their first baby. It's a girl. We all consider her a miracle. After years of trying with a lot of heartbreak, this little baby girl is a huge answer to prayer. So many of us have prayed for this baby girl for the entire 9 months, through every prenatal milestone and preterm contraction.

Now she's almost here. I can't wait to meet her!

Don't know her name yet, but the clue is she will be named after a coastal town with eight letters in it.

This day has been a wonderful reprieve from unpacking boxes. I haven't been this relaxed with this much time on my hands in months. I just thanked Listay for this great vacation day.

Ryan just told me that this baby will be the 10th generation born in San Jose from one of the original founders of this city. Pretty cool genealogy.

More pictures of our miracle baby to come....

Sunday Dinner

Mario's childhood is full of memories of his extended family gathering every Sunday for dinner, laughter and card playing. From what I see of old pictures, there were some fun, crazy Italian dinners. Now that his parents are here, we decided to do the same thing. We call it "Sunday Dinner". Clever, I know. We had our first official Sunday dinner last night. We ate, shared funny old stories, drank wine and enjoyed a summer evening together. Mom and Dad loved it. Maria was talking today about how nice all of our friend were. She was in a very happy mood today, so I know it lifted her spirits to have wonderful friends around the house. It had the same effect on all of us! It's a weekly event now. If you are reading this blog and post a comment, you just may get an invitation very soon!

Reflecting

I'm 41. It's been a long time since I've lived with a mother. I've been THE mother. But not anymore. This makes for a very interesting dynamic in our house ( I almost wrote my house, but this really is a joint living situation, so I write our). I've been criticized on several occasions this week over very small and funny things. (Why do I always under cook the pasta? Don't I know what al dente is? Why are the sheets wrinkled?) I've noticed the "little girl" in me wanting to fight back, defend, and pout. Isn't this the typical mother/daughter relationship? I see it happening between me and Madeline all the time. How strange to be in the daughter (albeit daughter-in-law) role! How very strange to be another daughter in the house. This was unexpected!

The beauty of this whole thing is that I'm not a little girl anymore. The woman in me has grown to a point where I do not have to give in to those feelings of wanting to fight back in retaliation. Or the even stronger feelings of RESENTMENT. Isn't it marvelous that I can recognize growth in myself? And here's the secret to the growth: I know who I am. I really do! I know that I am Cheryl, a beloved daughter of the Most High God. At my truest core of personhood, I belong to God and I am secure in the fact that He loves me with an intimate love, and a deep knowing. In Him I live and move and breathe. This crazy, deep, secure sense of well being makes it possible to withstand almost anything life throws my way. Even a little bit of criticism from my dear mom-in-law. She really is dear, you know.

So I will let her be one of the mothers in our house and love the time I get to spend with her. And once in a while, when I feel a little pouty-ness coming on, I will refer back to this blog to remind myself of what is true.

Morning happenings...

This morning after pancake saturday, Nonna and I made Beschamel sauce for tomorrow's Sunday Dinner. (Recipe to follow).

Nonno sat and

sketched his second canvas which he and I

are going to paint together. At 92, he's still

quite the artist!

Maria’s White sauce for baked Pasta al forno

½ cup butter melted in a pot

add ½ flour to make a rue

In separate pot, heat ½ gallon whole milk

Add to rue a ladle at a time

Add to rue and milk mixture a piece of onion, one bay leaf, salt and pepper to taste , a pinch of nutmeg and ½ cup of grated parm. Cheese.

Stir constantly until sauce is slightly thickened. Allow to cool in pot. Cover and Place in refrigerator until ready to use.

4 square meals

One of the hardest adjustments in caring for mom and dad so far is living and working by a schedule. My free spirit is definitely resisting this. But deep down I know it's good for me. Each meal must be planned in advance because they eat four times a day at very specific times. (This does not include Dad's 4:30 am morning coffee, which I prepare in the automatic coffee maker the night before.)

• Breakfast at 8 am. (Except for Pancake Saturdays, typical fare is oatmeal, toast and coffee, and maybe a fig or two)
• Lunch at 12:30 (They like soup twice a week, and also enjoy cold cuts and leftovers)
• A quiet rest between 1 and 4 pm. (No little boys running up and down the stairs...we try to keep it quiet in the house, or at least make this our errand time).
• Afternoon tea at 4 pm (with honey and milk and a little sweet cookie)
• Dinner at 6 pm (This is where I get to learn new recipes from mom like those cool stuffed artichokes.)
• A wild-sometimes-yelling-match game of cards after dinner.
• Retire to separate rooms for TV until 9 pm.

Whew! I'm tired just reading this. Tomorrow is our week anniversary....(Parents-in-law moved in last Saturday). After a few weeks, I think we will all get very used to this and even really like it. It takes the mystery out of each day to be sure!

A note to my family who reads this: Mom and Dad are settling down and resting well each day. They seem very happy, though Mom is in obvious pain from her back and shoulder. She just bought a very good full size bed at Sleep Train that will be delivered on Sunday. We've had her in a twin which is just too small for her. She was so fun to shop with. She kept talking the lady down on the price of the mattress and headboard and got a great deal! I loved watching her negotiate. She's a pro!

A Whole New World

Its been a quiet few days in our home. I think I needed a bit of quiet. AHHH!! (sigh) My biggest challenge has been finding room for all the new grocery items nonna and nonno require in their daily routine. I'm learning all about the miracle medicinal uses of certain fruit juices: Prune and Grape! They really are miracle working juices! I could get used to this. These may actually allow me to eat more gorgonzola and other favorite stinky cheeses!

I'm also learning some really fun new ways to prepare the foods I like. This dish is stuffed artichokes with cheese, breadcrumbs, onion and garlic. Steamed for one hour in salted water. Delicioso!

Good Morning Meltdown

I'm not too keen on admitting when I have a meltdown. But today I take exception. This whole year has been one huge transition after the next. I will always think of 2010 and the year of incredible change. Where there is change, there is stress. On the whole I feel like I've done very well managing the stress of caring for two family members post surgery, leaving the church/job we've been at for 10 years to pursue a new career path, staging our house, selling our house, searching for a new house, buying that house, having 10 days to move in and prepare it for Mario's parents (with new construction to meet their needs), flying down to Orange County to finish packing them, and then of course, the whole airport incident. A very crazy 2010. But this morning I cracked. I woke up to hearing my name being yelled from the bottom of the stairs and of course rushed down to see what happened. Poor Mod was trying to juggle washing Gianni's soiled bed sheets, the crew of men beginning to install our central air conditioning, and his parent's breakfast preparation. Madeline was in charge of making eggs for everyone but had abandoned her post in the kitchen to brush her hair upstairs. Nonna took over egg duty but panicked a little when the eggs started sticking to the bottom of the pan. (Not enough olive oil). Mod definitely needed reinforcements when the toaster started smoking just as his mom was calling for help. Where was I? Enjoying a peaceful time in my room with the door shut, listening to Shubert, putting on a little extra makeup. Bliss. Like I said, poor Mod! Oh yeah, and poor Madeline! She got an earful from both of us about leaving her post at the egg and toast station. In our defense, though, last week after she melted a plastic plate on our new electric flat top stove, we laid down a new rule: NEVER leave the kitchen while cooking. We were a bit too hard on her this morning, though, because she ended up in tears. I think we overlooked the fact that she has been through as much stress as we have. Poor Maddi. In the midst of the chaos of this crazy scene, Mod lost his patience with me and Maddi and looked like he was about to have a heart attack. He even said the word "Fricken", but I knew what he really meant. My stress level was at a 9.5 but I kept it together until Nonno started asking for Donuts, and could I please find his free Dunkin' Donut coupon that he packed somewhere. Because he is a bit hard of hearing, he was happily immune to the craziness. When the kids were settled and Nonna and Nonno were happily playing cards, Mod and I had a meeting. He asked me how I was doing. I had the kind of meltdown where you laugh and cry at the same time. The kind that makes you think, "Ok, this is either a really healthy outlet, or I am in danger of being institutionalized." Mod laughed as I recalled the Donut comment and hugged me until I had let it all out. I think this whole year just caught up with me. Right now, it is an hour later and from where I am sitting, I can see Gianni and Emily playing Italian cards with their grandparents. It's peaceful in the house. The kitchen is a mess. There are boxes everywhere, but God is good and He is right in the middle of the mess, isn't He? He's also the source of all this peace right now and I am really thankful for that. My meltdown was probably long overdue anyway. And I feel much better and ready to unpack some more boxes!

The journey toward caring for my parents-in-law has been meticulously planned out for many years. It's been in our hearts to care for them since about ten years ago when Mario and I began talking about the possibility of his parents needing assisted care. Back then they were 77 and 82 years old and still living on a 3 acre property in Southern California. Since then, they sold their beloved estate of 30 years and moved into an active adult apartment complex. Not until last year did Maria and Mario begin talking about the need for extra care. We offered to open our home to them and they accepted. That's it in a nutshell. Of course, there were a lot of small details that had to be worked out, but as of three days ago, we are all together living under one roof. Hubby Mario Jr. (Mod for short....pronounce Mario correctly and you get "M O D I O" or MOD for short) suggested that I start a blog about this new adventure. I was convinced it would be fun after the crazy adventure my daughter Maddi and I had in the airport just getting "Nonna and Nonno" (Italian for grandma and grandpa) to Northern California. Here's the short version of that story:

Saturday morning, July 3. Our 17 year wedding anniversary. Maddi and I arrive at the airport with Nonna and Nonno with plenty of time to leisurely check in, find wheelchair assistance, go through security, eat a snack, and use the restroom before pre-boarding the plane. All goes well. I'm very pleased with myself, having navigated all of us to Gate 2 with no glitches, when my phone rings. It's my mom, who chauffeured us to the airport. "You forgot Maria and Mario's carry-on bags in my trunk. I'm driving back right now and will meet you outside." Maddi and I shuffle our way back outside, grab their grey circa 1960's TWA bags and two Costco loaves of
pecorino romano cheese in a plastic grocery bag (Italians love their cheese), kiss my mom goodbye and run for the security line. Twenty minutes to pre-board! A security officer assures me we will make it through the line with time to spare. She was right. But there was one problem. I didn't preview the bags and had no idea what they contained. As soon as they were on the x-ray belt I became suspect number one. "Please step this way, ma'am. I'm going to have to screen these bags." Airport rule #13: never say, "No, these aren't my bags.....sort of.....I mean......I'm bringing them in for someone else. I have no idea what's in them". This only causes more raised eyebrows and deeper searching. Poor Maddi was so stressed out at this point she began to cry. I think that made us look more suspicious. 5 minutes to pre-board. I was sweating and laughing nervously as Mr. Security Man pulled out one pair of sharp scissors, then another, bigger pair of scissors, then a third, even bigger pair of scissors. After that came the giant sized toothpaste tube, knitting needles, more jumbo cream tubes and a large plastic water bottle. Next TWA bag: more cream tubes and the piece de resistance........two pocket knives. I just about fell over. My nervous laughter was intertwined with very quick prayers "Please Lord, make it stop." I explained my situation to Mr. Security Man as best I could, who, after trashing most of the items and rescanning both bags, gave me the "all clear". Maddi and I ran to the gate with one minute to spare. Of course, we both showed up looking completely unscathed, happy, calm and ready to board the plane. We promised not to mention anything to either grandparent, besides a polite, "Sorry they had to take a few of your items out." Let's keep it that way.