Family Feud?

 Before I met Himself, I thought I came from a loud family. Compared to his, though, mine seems timid!
A discussion between them can sound like a brawl is about to break out. When I mention this to Himself, he blows off my concern and says that is just the way they are.
Where we live, I call “the town of last names that end in vowels.” In other words, there are a lot of people with Italian last names. In my part of this great Atlantic Northeast, cultural ancestry is a point of pride. Personally, I just say I am an American.  I digress…People of Italian heritage tend to be, shall we say, er, passionate in the way they speak.
Both Himself and I were born with names that end in vowels. His heritage is half Italian and half Slovak; mine is half Italian, a quarter Puerto Rican, and a few other countries from one grandmother. Maybe there IS something to our “loudness” when we get together.
Do we feud? My side, not so much any more. His side? A little bit…..However, we always, always, always are there for each other. Always.
Blessings, gail

(almost) Unbearable

When we decide to have children, we think of precious newborns, inquisitive toddlers, cuteness and innocence. What we don’t think of is an emerging human being with opinions and weaknesses, rebellion and pain.

Seeing one of my children or my granddaughter in pain can do me in. There are times I think it is unbearable. Even prayer and reading the Word of God can have little effect…or so I think…

Last week, there was a night I thought I was going to break, literally. A number of years ago, I was hospitalized (my choice) for depression and anxiety but have grown enough in knowledge and faith to be able to stand up to the demons that plague me.

My precious granddaughter has been going through a rough time and I became so upset that I felt like nothing could bring me strength. People are praying about the situation and there is comfort in that but I was about to crack.

For several months, I have been writing out my prayers so I went to my prayer spot and cried out my pain and the injustice of what is happening to my girl. I reminded God of His promises to those who love Him and trust Him. I laid it all on His broad, broad shoulders.

And I slept well for the first time in a very long time.

I Don’t Do Pink and Other Stuff About Us

I don’t do pink. Pastel pink that is. I dig hot pink. Especially with lime green. Yup. Lime green makes a lot of things look good!

Himself talks to himself. All the time. Sometimes I listen and sometimes I don’t. It’s a gamble because sometimes he IS talking to me! It is “common” knowledge that females speak about 2/3 more than males but, in this house, even though I can talk your ear off, Himself wins. And he still tunes me out.

Housekeeping? Hmmm….let’s just say that my housekeeping, or lack thereof, has not made anyone sick…yet. I am a clean person but not a neat person. I know where things are and can direct the male characters in this household to what they are looking for in the refrigerator. That is what is really important, right?

We have no pets. We once had a cat named Reepicheep (named after the swashbuckling rat in The Chroniclse of Narnia – my idea, of course). She was our one and only pet that didn’t live in a bowl. When she died we were all crushed. The only thing I didn’t miss about her was the fur left behind all over the place. The Boy wants a dog so badly but I am standing firm. I don’t do poop, fur, barking and/or boarding. Grow up, get a good job, get your own place, and then you can get a dog. I will visit. Maybe.

Blogging is fun and not fun for me. When I started, I used Windows Live Spaces and “met” a lot of people. I wrote regularly, got responses, visited others and left comments. It is so different now. Thankfully, a handful of people from Spaces are still blogging.

Isabella just “wrote” two “loving letters” to Jesus. When I asked her what she wrote, she said, “Read it.” Uh, I told her it was her own special language and that she had to read it to me. Such beautiful words came out of her mouth! Oh, my precious, precious girl. She has a beautiful heart. She can be a bit bratty at times but the good times far outweigh them.

The Boy is out of work again. Anyone have a career or even just a job for a 23 year old high school graduate? I hear the navy calling his name…..

I am reading the book Iscariot by Tosca Lee. It is a novel about Judas Iscariot. The author had to do a lot of research and she weaves such and intricate and real story through the eyes of Judas. She shows Jesus as a healer and not afraid of disease and disfigurement. Well done, Ms. Lee.

Once again, I plan to participate in the A to Z challenge in April. It gives me the nudge I need to blog, blog, blog! Hopefully, I will be back before then….

Blessings to you and yours, g


Today, my boy hugged me. “…overwhelmed, “ he said, “So overwhelmed.” Actually, my boy needed his mom to hug him. And I did promising that there were more where they had come from.

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about how my son is a stranger to me; about his hidden life. He is 23 years old and there is so much I do not know about him. When did that happen? When did he become a stranger?

So, too, is my daughter. I probably know a little more about her but that is because she is 32 and a mother. We relate because we are both mothers. However, we are so different.

We think of having “babies.” We do not think about having defiant teenagers. We do not think of having 23 and 32 year old children. Are they any less our children as they grow older? At 56, I am still my mother’s child. The Girl and The Boy will always be my children.

There are probably a lot of things I don’t want to know about my children. I feel anxiety just contemplating their secrets. There are many things I hope my mom doesn’t know about the younger me. I wish it wasn’t so but it is.

Where am I going with this? I don’t know. Just feeling the need to try to work out what I am feeling. My children still need me. I need their help. Maybe there will be a symbiosis some day. ~heavy sigh~ Some day.

We Came, We Walked, We Conquered!


Team Isabella was in force for the Walk for Autism Speaks! We are different colors and shapes and ages. Boys, girls, women and men all out in force to support not only a little girl who stole our hearts from the moment she was born, but all people the autism spectrum has touched.

We have rarely needed the services of this wonderful organization but believe it worthy of our time and efforts. For more information, click here.

Towards the end of the 1.6 miles, Isabella had had enough. Her three uncles took turns carrying her 50+ pounds to the finish line. The noise and the crowds proved to be too much for her. She didn’t even say hello to her teacher or best friend but this was okay. It is what it is.

Afterwards, we went out for brunch continuing our celebration of our love our precious girl. I asked everyone if it was okay for me to share our story and our picture. They were all eager to be included.

Next, several of us went to a book signing for Chicken Boy (click on Chicken Boy). This is an adorable book explaining a boy’s autism in his own words. Very short and to the point.

After this, I quickly fell asleep and napped for three hours straight!

A good day, indeed.

Thank you for all your support! g


Isabella’s birthday was lovely. We spent it with her great grandmother and one of my kids’ cousins, ate pizza and ice cream cake and opened lots of presents.

Once again, thank you for letting me vent (not that you had a choice!).

A Walk in the, uh, College Campus

Yesterday, we walked for Autism Speaks. The organization is not perfect but it a big help for families dealing with the autism spectrum.

As the team captain, the weeks leading up to the walk are stressful to me. I did nowhere near as much fundraising through sponsors as I did last year as I was paralyzed by what I saw as the immensity of it. It really isn’t a big deal but, in my mind, it was of gargantuan proportions.

Last week, not only did my fms flare but my ibs decided to come along for the ride. Ugh. I am so thankful that I was able to nap and function well enough to do what I had to do.

Our team Isabella came out beautifully! The girl wanted pink but I put my foot down and we settled on orchid (pale purple). A couple of the guys were not thrilled but real men do wear purple!

How wonderful it was to have both our side of the family, Isabella’s dad’s side of the family and dear friends join us in support of our girl! Even my mother-in-love, who has issues with her legs, joined us in a wheelchair for the second year in a row! It was wonderful to push her along the 1.6 mile route.

After the walk, most of us broke bread at a local eatery and continued our fellowship and good time. Our girl, Bells, did so very well. We couldn’t be prouder.

Will we walk again next year? As long as children are newly diagnosed, we have the strength and we are able, yes. Will I get all worked up? Probably. Let’s just hope I start earlier and get more productive with corporate sponsorship!

blessings to all, g