I should probably drink more and think less

So I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about family lately, what with being presented with all the changes in mine. Although really the changes have happened in my family of origin, not the family I’ve spawned (funny to see the word spawn in a non alien-y context, huh?) so it shouldn’t really faze me, and yet it still kind of does, further proof of the fact that we never really stop being children (as in offspring, not immature) even when we’re parents in our own right.

So, you see, I’ve found that it’s a bit unsettling to see someone who’s not my dad at the head of the table. I’ve written before how happy I am, and how relieved, that my mom has found love again and that she’s started this new chapter in her life. And yet it is harder for me to deal with the reality than I would have thought. Part of it is probably due to the fact that I don’t live near my mom, we only see each other once or twice a year and that I’ve been a tad self absorbed lately (what with the husband’s leukemia and all) and probably I would have been unsettled anyway because it’s hard to be in Houston for Christmas without my Dad being around (although it’s been five years since he passed).

The whole dynamic has changed, though my Mom is still my mom her husband is no longer my Dad, it’s actually a person I barely know and who barely knows me, so the holidays are rife with more formality and less familiarity. I feel like a guest in my Mom’s house. And, though no one is making me feel like a guest, everyone’s been extremely welcoming, I’m constantly thinking of how potentially annoying we are, how noisy and rambunctious the kids, how much space we occupy all five of us. Thoughts I never would have had if my Dad were here because when you’re visiting your parent’s house as a child (again adult offspring) you assume you’re welcome, you know that though you may be annoying your parents would rather have you than not. I’m not saying this thought process is necessarily healthy or just, but when dealing with one’s own parents we do tend to have a much more developed sense of entitlement than not.

It’s also extremely strange to see how my Mother herself has changed. This is, of course, inevitable because she’s living her daily reality with a new person and our most intimate relationships inevitably influence and change us in one way or another. We adjust to the other person in our lives, we develop new mannerisms and new habits. Rationally I understand how this is so, and yet it freaks me out just a little bit to see this new, changed version of my mother. Because as children we expect our parents to always be just the way they are.

And it all feels a bit surreal and unexpected.

I hope I’m not coming off as childish or petulant. I like my Mom’s husband, he’s a great guy, I just didn’t really expect to miss my Dad quite so much, so long after his passing. The things we learn about ourselves around the holidays…

Now pass me the wine.






Linking up today with Shell at Things I can't say.

This and that

We’ve been in Houston for a week now and I’ve just been absorbing stuff like a sponge. It’s so strange to be here. Everything’s changed, everything’s the same.

It’s amusing to me that I’ve been asked more than once how I’m finding my way around, do I need directions, do I have a TomTom… the answers are just fine; no, thank; and yes, yes I do. It’s amusing because I grew up here, I learned to drive here, my mom lives in the same part of town and none of the major landmarks have moved, so why I would have a hard time getting around is beyond me. Concurrently, though, I haven’t been here in three years so sometimes if I have to get somewhere I don’t remember the most efficient route, I’ll think of the roads I would have taken from my old neighborhood but I won’t remember how to get there from where I am right now. That feels a bit weird. Also, some friends have moved to neighborhoods where I have never been before (Houston is BIG) so going there I do get lost, I’d probably get lost even if I had lived here all these years though too.

Readjusting to family life has been hard. This is the first time I’ve spent Christmas in Houston since my Dad died, this makes it strange for me on many levels. First of all, since my Dad died this is only the third Christmas I’ve spent with my family, the first one was in Rome the year he died – that wasn’t a very jolly holiday season – and the second one was at my place right before the boy was born as I was too pregnant to travel. This year we had Christmas with my Mom, her new husband and his children (which, incidentally, sounds weird as we are all adults, should I have amended to “his adult children” which would have been oxymoronic at best, or possibly I could have used the word offspring, which always sounds to me like we’re talking more of animals than humans). It’s mind boggling to me to have stepsiblings at this stage in my life. Thankfully we don’t have the whole room/bathroom sharing, who do you love more, I hate you, drama that we probably would have had had we been teenagers, but still, it’s odd to find yourself spending family holidays with a slew of new family members that you don’t really know.

I am remarkably set in my ways. I like doing things my way. I like the pace of my family life, which is totally incompatible with the pace of my mom’s family life. This was predictable, as I grew up with her and thus know how things work around here, and yet it surprises me every time. It’s particularly hard to be laid back and go with the flow with children (the small, young variety) in tow. I’m using compromise, some deep breathing and the concept of “no, today I’m going to do it my way hope I don’t offend anyone” to get through it. I suspect my mother’s doing the same on her end.

These are some random thoughts of the day and two cute pictures from Christmas morning (for your viewing pleasure). 

Toodles.

The Girl, the Husband and the Boy

The Girl and I

Linking up with Amy from Lucky Number 13 today for Virtual Coffee, although this isn't technically a coffee post it's still our last tuesday of 2011 and I'm sentimental about this kind of stuff!

Holy jet-lag Batman, we made it to Houston

My children are complete angels. There I said it and have now quite probably jinxed myself for eternity (and beyond) but my two children, despite all evidence to the contrary, are two perfect angels.

We left on Monday afternoon for Paris where we spent the night before our long-haul flight to Houston, and we had no meltdowns. None, nada, nisba. We had no meltdowns despite the fact that they were tired, in a completely unfamiliar situation and we were stressed. Though we slept in the airport hotel, we still somehow managed to arrive at security check a bit late, we got in the wrong line, for the wrong gate, we had to retrace our steps, get to the right gate and then the husband realized he had left some pretty critical meds in the hotel fridge. We frantically called the hotel, apparently getting meds beyond passport control is harder that it would appear. But we needed those meds so he took off with a sympathetic Air France employee (rarer than one would think) to get his meds, I took off for security (again) with the kids and the nanny and enough hand luggage for a soccer team, oh, and a temperamental stroller that wouldn’t fold. All this happened fifteen minutes before the plane was supposed to take off (not board, take off). I’m not good under pressure.

And yet the kids? No meltdowns. I’m shocked. Also, now I know that they can be expected to deal serenely with quite a bit of stress, so I’m not taking any more random whining  or tantrums at the supermarket.

Arriving in Houston after three and a half years has been a bit unsettling. Things have changed just enough for everything to look and feel familiar, but just slightly off somehow, kind of like I stepped into a parallel universe. Now I’m going to be freaking out about being in a parallel universe, by the way.

That’s it for now, as I’m dealing with jet-lag (my own and four other people’s). Also, my children are angels.

Sometimes I just need to randomly write drivel of the top of my head, ok?

I’m sitting here trying to type with the pads of my fingers because despite having worked at or around a Spa for the past six years I can’t ever seem to get a manicure and a wax, for love nor money, when I need one. So I’m hairy-legged (not that that’s anything new) and smudgy because, alas, I’m going to a wedding with the husband tomorrow and though I can disguise my hairiness with some heavy opaque tights or pants I simply do not feel festive without bright red nail polish.

As usual when I travel, I’m at that point in the packing process where it looks like a tornado hit the house and I’m never, ever going to manage to get everything into my allotted suitcases. This point exhausts me, but I’m hanging onto the thought that with or without my bags I will be on the plane next week, for dear life and that’s what’s going to get me through the weekend.

Did I mention it’s supposed to snow at the wedding venue tomorrow? We haven’t seen snow since a short burst of wintertime impetus from the weather in October and now it’s going to snow. How’s that for Murphy’s law? Of course the wedding will be held in a mountain town, because it’s eminently reasonable to plan a destination wedding in the Alps in December. Also, it’s midnight and I have no clue what I’m wearing. At least my nail polish is catchy.

The Husband turned forty today. I’ve been planning a recap post of his party last Saturday all week and have yet to get around it, it’s like this wedding, the last minute Christmas shopping, and our imminent trip have completely taken over my few remaining brain cells.  But I needed to acknowledge his birthday today because forty is kind of a big deal. Although, I always thought fifty was the real big deal, what with it being half a century and all, but he disagrees. Apparently, forty is the biggest deal of all, in fact he mentioned he had to start thinking about my fortieth party now, four years ahead of time. Really honey, forty’s not that big a deal.

I have a completely unhealthy co-dependent relationship with Nutella. In fact, I feel an irrepressible urge to go have some right now, kind of like I’m a werewolf and Nutella’s the moon.

And I think Nutella’s a good note on which to end this completely useless post. This is how my brain works. I’m sorry.

Virtual Coffee {31} and a cupful of happy

Hello dear friends, welcome to coffee.

I’m starting to get a little overwhelmed lately. We’re leaving in less than a week, my Christmas shopping is so not done, I have to pack for, well, everybody, I have to choose between the eight gazillion pre-Christmas activities going on this week, I want to say bye to my friends, and the kids want a few playdates to see their friends, and we have to go to a wedding this weekend which means I actually don’t have until Monday to do all this but Friday. Ahem, I just realized this today. Let’s just say that last week’s relaxed, mellow attitude has definitely gone out the window to be replaced by total panic and hysteria. Anyone have some Xanax?

But I refuse to mar my favorite season of the year with all this nail biting so this week’s virtual coffee is all about the HAPPY!

So if we were really having coffee today, I would have to tell you how HAPPY I am that despite all evidence to the contrary I managed to pull off my Husband’s 40^th birthday party. It was murder mystery themed, and we had a blast. There were five actors (an inspector and four suspects) and we had fun investigating, asking question and coming up with murder scenarios. Might I also add that my table won and the husband’s table was singled out for their totally, shall we say fantastical, interpretation of the facts. Mean of me? Maybe, but a little competition is a good thing in a marriage. (Especially when I win!)

I’m also HAPPY that it appears we’ve managed to resolve some of the issues with the Boy’s preschool, so I don’t have to pull him out of there in a huff and hurriedly look for something new in February when we get back. I may have the tendency to get ahead of myself when I think my kids are unhappy in a situation. It’s the mother bear syndrome.

And lastly, I’m insanely, unimaginably, infinitely HAPPY that I’m going home next week. Have I mentioned this already, perchance? Are you sick of me talking about Houston yet? Well next week, when I’m home I’ll stop talking about how excited I am to be going home. And then I’ll start complaining about my mother and you’ll get a month and a half of that. Lucky you!

I’m linking up today with Amy from Lucky Number 13 as usual for Virtual Coffee and with Angie at My So-called Chaos who is temporarily hosting My Happy List (by Dandelion Wishes).

Deep in the heart of Texas - Monday Listicles

I am once again participating in Stasha’s listicles this week we’re supposed to write ten things about our hometown. Up until last week I would have had a really hard time figuring out which city to write about. Rome, where I was born but haven’t lived in since I was itty bitty and frankly I don’t even like or know it that much? Milan, where I went to university, met my husband and started my “adult” life? Cuneo, where I live now, doesn’t even come close to being the place I consider home though it’s home for my kids (mind boggling)? No, no and no. 

Talking with my therapist a few weeks ago I excitedly told him I was going home for Christmas, and he asked, confused, where exactly I thought home was. Houston, Houston is where my heart is, Houston is HOME. And I’m going home for Christmas y’all, so this writing prompt couldn’t have come at a better time.

So here are my ten things you should know about Houston, from the perspective of a girl who hasn’t lived there in too many years.

1. Every one Sir and Ma’am’s you. In fact, people are polite, and nice, and generally smiley. I miss that so much.

2. The traffic is terrifying. It was barely manageable when I was a teenager many moons ago, nowadays I will not leave the house during peak traffic hours… it just seems that peak traffic hours are almost around the clock. In fact, I’m kind of worried cause one of my best friends in Houston lives way on the other side of town from my Mom so I’m wondering if I’m going to have to go visit her at 6am to avoid getting stuck on the freeway till my old age.

3. There’s a thriving international community. There are people of all nationalities; in fact, there’s a French school (which I attended) where you follow the French curriculum K-12 entirely in French.

4. The weather is almost more terrifying than the traffic. Which is a good thing or everyone would want to live there. I still remember the feeling of the hot, heavy, humid air on my body when I first stepped out of the airport as a kid when we moved there. It felt like I was walking around in a jar of hot molasses.

5. To compensate for the insufferable heat, the A/C is always turned down to hypothermia levels. Now that I no longer live there and have thawed out I need to wear a sweater everywhere I go. So to recap, if it’s summer you want to be wearing the least amount of clothes possible outside, and a sweater and socks inside, if it’s winter you want to be wearing jeans, flip flops and a light sweatshirt outside and possibly a coat, scarf and gloves inside.

6. Everything is bigger and more badass. Particularly the cockroaches. I promise you, you have NEVER seen cockroaches this large, and no, I don’t care if you live in NYC, you have us beat on rats, sure, but not roaches. Our roaches are so big you can put a saddle on ‘em and ride ‘em off into the sunset.

7. Another insect related one: mosquitos and fire ants. I have never seen fire ants in Europe, and for this I am thankful.

8. It’s close to the beach. Not a great beach by any stretch of the imagination, but you can get to Galveston and dip your toes in the water in a relatively short amount of time if you feel the need to get out of the city.

9. It’s got great entertainment. Entertainment I’m going to fully take advantage of starting next week.

10. Houston steals your heart. I’m not really from there, as neither I nor my parents were born there, but I grew up there. The childhood and young adulthood years are the ones that shape you, and this wonderful city, with all it’s contradictions, is in my heart more than any other place where I’ve pitched my tent these past 36 years. And I’m going NEXT WEEK! 

YEEHAW!

I just wanted to add that I had a list in my drafts folder for a post I wanted to write about the things I missed the most and the least about Texas. This is what was on my list: Things I miss the most – Friends, sir – ma’am, politeness, A/C, big houses, cowboys, rodeo, whole foods market, tex-mex, real margaritas

Things I don’t miss about Texas: Cockroaches, Mosquitos, insane traffic, Insane urban planning, fire ants, water moccasins.

Now I guess I don’t even need to write that other post.

Virtual Coffee {30}

Hello dear friends, welcome to coffee.

The holidays are upon us and time is accelerating as it does when you’re extra busy. Since we’ll be in Houston for Christmas I wasn’t in the mood to set up a whole, big song and dance for Christmas (also, I didn’t want to have to be taking down Christmas ornaments in February when we get back, and it’s not like the husband’s going to do it when he’s home alone) so we got a teeny, tiny tree this year and let the kids decorate it themselves.

If we were really having coffee I’d also tell you that I must be pms-y already (it’s like a month long thing now) cause this morning I was walking through the toy aisles at the grocery store and I saw an older lady looking up at the toys and then squinting down at a piece of paper with a confused expression on her face and as I got closer I realized she was looking at a kids Christmas list. A really long Christmas list, might I add, with pictures and stickers and such and I got all teary-eyed. God knows why. And as I passed by her I whispered something along the lines of “Happy shopping, Santa Claus” and she laughed and mentioned grandkids. It’s hard here to connect with people, even during the holidays. Everyone minds their own business and no one ever interacts with strangers. I miss that about Texas, the random “Happy Holidays” and “howdy do’s” (not that I actually went around saying howdy do). So this small, insignificant connection with a stranger made me happy, and teary, cause I’m a hormonal mess lately.

seriously tiny tree

I would also tell you that I got the husband’s party all organized finally, kind of, sort of, mostly anyways. I have a venue, guests and his present, so I’ve got the basics down. This week I’ll figure out the rest. My Christmas shopping, however, is not all that advanced. In fact, it hasn’t even gotten started. Thank goodness “Santa” in the US got all the kids presents already so I don’t have to worry about them.  Although, it’s strange, along with the crazy hormones I’m also strangely calm about everything. I’m walking around with a very relaxed “it’ll all get done” attitude. I’m just sort of wondering how, and by whom….

One would almost think I was pregnant, though I’m not, though I kind of wish I were… but that’s fodder for another post.

very proud of their handiwork

Ok, I’m off to get some Christmas shopping done, or I may just sit outside and enjoy the sun on my face cause it’s a beautiful day out. After all, the Christmas shopping will get done somehow.

we finally wrote our letters to Santa

Now mosey on over and say hi to our hostess Amy!

p.s. though it’ may sound like I’ve been smoking weed, I actually haven’t, I’m just really mellow lately. Maybe I should switch my decaf for some real coffee…

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All I want for Christmas is--- Monday Listicles

So I’m back from taking the week off from blogging. Although, I didn’t really take the week off from blogging as I went around and read (and tried to comment on) all my usual blogs. I guess I just took the week off from writing. I don’t know how I benefited from it apart from going to sleep a little earlier every night. Anyway, I’m easing back into the swing of things by joining in with Stasha, a.k.a. Northwestmommy for Monday Listicles. Today’s prompt is the ten things I hope for this Christmas, which should be easy enough as all I’m doing lately is revising everybody’s Christmas wish lists and writing Santa letters.

What I hope for this Christmas:

1. Sleep. The girl appears to be sleeping better, this past week she hasn’t woken up every night so I’m hoping this keeps up, improves even, and most importantly doesn’t all go to hell from the jet-lag when we go to Houston this year.

2. A bra that fits. The single most terrible thing about living in Italy is that they don’t measure bras in cups and inches (or centimeters), and it’s pretty hard to find a cup size larger than a C. So I usually end up having to buy a cup size that is too small or, in the rare event that the cup size is fine the band is too big. Since I haven’t been back to the US in three years and have been pregnant twice since, you can imagine what state my bras are in. My first stop as soon as I land is a lingerie store. (And target, no one’s keeping me away from target).

3. A book. And not just any book. I want to find a really good book, and I want to read it all the way through in one sitting. And it has to be an actual paper, real book. For once, I’d like to just take a few hours and read a book uninterrupted instead of maniacally thumbing through my kindle in line or in a waiting room, cause it seems I only ever read on electronic devices nowadays at the post office, at the grocery store, in the doctor’s waiting room…

4. Someone to organize all my movies, shows and music. My one and only New Year’s resolution last year was to declutter my life. I’ve managed to do some of it, still working on a lot, but what I haven’t gotten around to, and frankly have no desire to get around to it is organizing my movies, shows and music. And since chucking it all in the trash is not the answer, I need someone to just come over and do it for me. Ok? Thanks.

5. Find a school I’m happy with. I knew this was going to be an issue sooner or later, but honestly I expected it to be a little later. I don’t like the Boy’s preschool. I’ll get into the whys and hows another time. I’ve talked to them again, but if I don’t see some serious improvement I’m going to have to look for a different school and I’m not all that hopeful cause I’m afraid that what I take issue with may just be a cultural thing and not something I can fix. But I want him to enjoy school, I want him to be happy. He’s going to be in school for a long, long time starting now, and it has to be a positive experience.

6. A house. We’ve been renting for a really long time. In fact we’ve been renting forever since I’ve never owned a house. We’ve been looking at houses for the past twelve years (I’m not kidding), we saw hundreds of apartments in Milan and we’ve seen many, many houses since we moved out here in the middle of nowhere. So it’s time. I want to find a house that doesn’t make me vomit and that I can afford. How friggin’ hard is that??

7. Shoes. As I’ve mentioned I own quite a few shoes, but as I get older I’m less willing to settle for second best. So this year for Christmas I want a pair (or two) of really comfortable high heels, that make my legs and ass look great, but (and here’s the clincher) that don’t hurt my feet if I stand for longer that 13 seconds.

8. Abs. Without breaking a sweat. Enough said.

And now the last two, serious ones:

9. Happiness. This one’s two-fold. I want my children to be happy. I want to know they’re happy. I don’t want to spend many a waking (and some a sleeping) hour worrying about their happiness. And I want to find a way to make the people around me a little happier. I’m not being all altruistic either, I’m want this for me, because if the people around me are happier than I’m happier and more relaxed.

10. Health. Lately it seems all I ever read about is the great vaccine debate (which, incidentally, I now feel compelled to write about, so be warned you’ll find a ranting post in the near future), but I gotta tell you, I don’t give a crap if my kids (or I for that matter) get the flu or the chicken pox or whatever else that’s not life threatening but just a massive pain in the ass. I do, however, want the husband to be healthy. And I don’t want him to be healthy for now, or not get sick in Houston or anything short term. I want him to be HEALTHY. I want leukemia to be a forgotten word, somewhere in the distant past. I want him to be healthy for a really, really long time. In fact, I want him to die of old age when we are so decrepit that death seems like a new and exciting adventure. I want him to see his great grandkids. So Santa, or whoever, forget the rest of the list and just give us HEALTH. I can take care of the rest myself. Thanks.

So tell me, what’s on your Christmas wish list?