Some Rules for Life a la Agnes Scaramuzzo

It has been awhile since I blogged.  I was tempted to do so a few times to get thoughts off my chest, but I was afraid of stirring up controversy bigger than the Santa-Mommy-Wars.  But something non-controversial came up that I felt compelled to write about.

My mother-in-law, Agnes Scaramuzzo, passed away late last week.  It has had me thinking of how she lived her life.  My husband couldn't have married anyone more different than his mother.  I'm as Type A as it gets sometimes.  I fell in love with him because he tended to be more spontaneous and devil-may-care in his free time.  He loosened me up.  Mike learned from the best of them -- his mother.  She was much more laid back than I am, much more loosey-goosey.  For awhile, I felt that I was one who lived by rules, she's one who didn't.  But really, she did live by rules, hers were just much different than bedtimes, "don't sass me", and "you'll eat what I made":

 Here is my interpretation of her rules:

 

 

 

1.        Don’t worry when things go awry, just change the recipe Once it rained on her famous potato salad, and everyone was worried it was ruined.  She stirred in the rain water, and next thing you know, it was the “best” potato salad ever.  So the recipe changed from then on.  She’d splash a little water into the bowl and stir it in, after it was all made.  She told me that if you add the water to the mayo, it isn’t the same.  I’ll be honest, I used to do that, but I can’t anymore because I know she has her eye on me and she’ll catch me cheating.

2.       Mispronounce things and don’t care about it because people will think of you more often She would be the one to sing a song or use an expression using the wrong words.  And if she was corrected, she would laugh at herself, and do it the next time exactly the same way.  A good meal didn’t “hit the spot” it “touched a spot”, she loved “Whirlers” candies, not “Werthers”, she banked at WaCHovia, not Wa-kovia.  So if a moment comes that someone says one of these things, we always think of her, and sometimes correct one another.  “Did get me the Werthers candies I had on the list?  No, I picked up Whirlers! “

3.       Don’t rush The only things she’d rush to do is hold a baby, give a compliment, or smile.  Otherwise, she was always saying, "I'll be there in a minute", "Take your time", or “Ein specht” (she said it meant one second in German, but Google says it means one woodpecker?!?  See #2 above).  For most people, being behind would drive me crazy, but somehow, when it was her, it was OK.

4.       Pray for the little things and then thank Him for answering it! She always started whispering to herself when we’d get near the store, and it turned out she was praying for a good parking space.  This was long before she struggled with her walking.  She enjoyed a good walk, but even more, she enjoyed a good parking space.  I asked her once, “Don’t you think that God  has more important prayers to answer?” to which she replied, “Oh, I don’t want to be the one always giving Him big problems.  I’m sure He’s happy these are easy to solve.”  Then she'd always say, "Thank you, Lord."  She had a point.  Those friends who always have huge, unsolvable problems are probably not the ones you want phone calls from.  The person who needs to borrow a cup of sugar, now that’s an easy call to take!  To this day, when I find a good spot, I know she’s thinking of me, and I tell the Lord thanks.

5.       Approach everything as if it’s new I cannot tell you how many meals I made where my Mother-in-Law never ate __________ before (quinoa, queso, couscous, garlic dressing, Greek salad...).  Many times, I’d even made it last time she was over.  If I reminded her of the previous time she’d say, “Oh, well it’s always nice to be surprised by something you didn’t know about, even if you knew about it.”

6.       An afternoon cocktail is good My parents were over for dinner once, we were making cocktails, and she told my mother that her sister Pauline liked to have a Rob Roy with a cherry before dinner.  So my mother made her one, and my Mother-in-Law had me write down the recipe that my mother used because it’s amazing.  :)  She really wasn’t much of a drinker, but from time to time, she’d ask to split a beer or want a Rob Roy because it’s "nice to have an afternoon cocktail."  I can’t think of that drink without thinking of her. 

7.       Babies are good for the soul Even in her later years, a moment or two with a baby would pick up her spirits, warm her soul, make the whole world right.  There was nothing a baby could do that would distress her.  My son Joseph had the record for distance vomiting, but she paid it no mind…didn’t even flinch.  She could settle him, put his fussy little self to sleep, in the wink of an eye.  Mike and I nicknamed her Opium as a result.

8.       Sitting on the porch is nice Before she got sick, she’d stay with us for weeks, and she loved to sit on the porch and watch the world go by.  Neighbors used to come up to the porch and visit with her.  After she was sick and the weather would turn nice, we’d go outside about 2:30ish and watch the world go by.  She was cheered by a bright car, an interesting truck, but most of all the kids getting off the school bus.  Any sit on the porch was followed with, “This was really nice.”

9.       Lots of people look like Diane Rooney If I had a dime for every time she said, “Oh, I think she looks like Diane Rooney”, I’d be rich!  I have no idea what Diane Rooney looked like, but she’d even tell me.  And when I asked, “What did Diane Rooney look like, she would point to the woman or girl she was speaking of.  It became a family joke.  One thing is for sure, Diane Rooney made a long-time impression on my mother-in-law.  I really should Facebook Diane Rooney!

10.   Housework really does wait My mother in law was not the best housekeeper.  Shhh.  Don’t tell anyone, but I did notice her attitude that dust could wait.  Though she did sweep a mean porch!  Her house was clean and presentable, but not always a showroom.  And you know what?  We have heard the nicest things since she passed away.  “I was blessed to have known her”  “My husband called her Saint Agnes”  “She was always so kind”  And all of that is true.  No one ever said, “Her house wasn’t the cleanest” and guess what?  It really is true.  Being an amazing housekeeper really isn’t what people remember!  They remember the kind word, the warm hug, the radiant smile.  So put down the broom.  Despite my Type-A-ness, I was never quite the good housekeeper either.

So from these lessons, I know that there IS great hope for those of us who walk by the dust on the furniture and the sticky syrup on the counter to go sit on the porch, hold a baby, have a cocktail, watch the kids get off the bus, or chat with the neighbors.  In the end, that’s all that matters.

 

 

 

How I Painted My Daugher's Dresser

About five or so years ago, my daughter decided she needed a pink room.  I was away on a business trip when she approached my hubby about it, and he agreed.  Pink it would be.  When I came home and insisted it be another color and we'd put a ton of pink in the room as a highlight color, I failed miserably.  So here were are, three years later, and the last thing she wants is a pink room. She's 14.   Time for a new room.  I saw this room on Pinterest as an inspiration room, and it's been about two years in the planning stages.  This holiday was the "alright, let's do it" stage.

Part of the plan included using the boys' old dresser and painting it black, akin to what you might find at Pottery Barn or Restoration Hardware.  Hubby didn't think it would look right at all.  I went online and read what all the bloggers recommended, took a few cues of my own from failed painting projects, and redid the dresser.  I love how it turned out. 

I recently bought the boys new dressers, since the oldest boy is pretty much in grown up man clothes and half a drawer would hold exactly one and a half pairs of jeans.  My goal for their dressers are for them to have something to take with them when they move out.  My goal for my daughter's dresser (and room, for that matter) is to keep it all.  She'll have to go furniture shopping -- ha!

Hubby and I bought this dresser 14 years ago for $100.  It's a Sheraton style mahogany veneer and was in the boys' room until earlier this year. It weighs 7,473 lbs., which is why Hubby doesn't want to refinish it, because we will have to lug it back upstairs.  Some pieces of the veneer just didn't survive the boys when they were younger.  Some snagged on clothes baskets as I was lugging them into their room, some may have fallen off and used as matchbox car ramps before I ever saw they fell off.  So, before I get lectures about ruining good wood furniture, it was already ruined.

Original Dresser

 

I took the dresser apart (hardware off, drawers set aside, etc.).  I got together all of the ingredients needed for a good finish.  A sander and pads, TSP, foam brushes and a foam roller, Benjamin Moore  primer dyed "black" (it's really grey, but close enough), and Benjamin Moore Super Spec Low Luster DTM paint in black.

 

Ingredients

 

Then I sanded it with an orbital sander.  This was just to rough up the finished areas and smooth the wood ones, where there was missing veneer.  In the corners of the drawers where the veneer was chipped, I had to make sure it was sanded well so the rough spots would blend with the veneer spots.

Sanding -- notice the edge where the veneer was chipped -- I feathered in the raw wood with the finished wood

 

Sanded just enough to rough it up

 

 

Next step is to clean it well with TSP or a good TSP substitute.  Clean off all the dust and clean off the dresser.  Then wipe it all down with water and dry it well.

 

Clean well with TSP

 

Dry well with clean towels

 

Then it is off to priming, with teenie foam brushes and a foam roller.  Use a good primer, but here's the key that many don't seem to do online.  Get the primer tinted!  If you're painting black, the closest you'll get is grey.  I primed it well in two thin coats.  It's better to do two thin coats than one thick one. 

 

Fully Primed

 

 

Then you paint.  Again, use a foam roller and foam brushes.  The nappy ones add a texture you won't want. Brushes leave bristles in the paint.  I wish I had a painting booth because I'd spray with a professional sprayer, but I would never in a zillion years use a can of spray paint.  The finish is just not comparable.

 

Done!

I think this is much better!

 

 





 

 

Is Santa Real? The Mommy Wars.

My kids are past that Santa stage.  It's a little sad at times, but we have little neighbors who fill my heart with the magic of Christmas.  There is an ugly side to Santa, though, and it's making me bonkers.

I get so frustrated with parents who accuse those of us who choose to share the Santa story as being "liars".  It's one of the huge things in Mommy Wars, along with breastfeeding vs. bottle feeding and working from home vs. staying at home that really gets under my skin. Doing one vs. the other is not superior.  Period.

Here's the deal, folks.  SANTA IS REAL!  It is not a lie.  If someone asked me if my Grandma was real, I'd say a firm, "Yes!"  She was very real.  She and I bargain shopped for groceries, we woke early to scrub the kitchen floor, and she left M&Ms on her coffee table for us.  She is very real, still in my heart today.  If someone asks my kids "Is Peepa" is real?" they would say "Yes!"  They were never alive when he was, but they know every story, carry on some of his traditions, and have his sarcastic sense of humor, especially my eldest son.

"Mommy, is Santa real?"  "Yes.  He is real."  There is no lie there.

When they were old enough to figure out that maybe Santa didn't bring presents, and they asked the question that way, I fessed up.  I told them that I didn't lie.  Santa is real, just like Peepa, but sadly he died.  He had a tradition of anonymously giving gifts to the poor, sick, and needy.  He sold all of his worldly goods to do that, and he was a very rich man.  He is believed to have given three sisters gold so that they would have a dowry and could marry.  So it's our tradition to keep up his tradition and give gifts at Christmas to children.

How is that not real?  How did I lie?  And how are you telling the truth when you say he isn't real?  My kids who knew took pride in continuing Saint Nick's traditions for those who didn't.  And when my younger son asked the question, the whole family was disappointed.

Here's the thing, I know great moms who breastfed, and those who couldn't or chose not to.  I know great moms who worked out of the home, those who stayed at home, and those who worked out of their house.  I know those who didn't tell their kids the Santa story and those who did.  Since when did we have to declare our superiority because of our choices?  If you don't beat/starve/hate your child, I agree that you're a better mother than those who do.  These other things, though, really don't make you superior, they just make you snarky.

So, during this Christmas time, let's warm with our own traditions, share them with others, but keep our thoughts about what is best to ourselves.  After all, our choices may be best because they are for our families, but they are not the best choices for another one.

Merry Christmas!

Stocking Stuffers

I'm not sure what converted me to the Christmas Spirit this year.  I'm thinking it might be the "Christmas Magic movies" (my sister's term) I was watching the week before Thanksgiving. 

This year, I'm in the mood for an old fashioned Christmas.  Budgets this year have been stretched thin and gift lists are getting more and more expensive.  I think I remember when my parents started to go through the same thing.  I remember fondly when my elder sister and I begged for our first "stereos."   No way, no how.  We didn't need our own turntable.  We could always use my parents' in the Living Room.  Fast forward to Christmas, they were there on our "Santa pile."  What a great surprise!

For my kids this year, it's the electronics that are killing me.  Despite those requests, I want them to experience some gifts that are old and nostalgic. Those toys I could play with forever.

So to bring that to our house, I think I'll pick some of these up -- hopefully at our local stores, and I'll skip the socks and undies in the stocking that my husband keeps threatening!  My mom never did that to us, that I recall, but I did get a tangerine in the toe of my stocking!

Here are some oldies but goodies you can still buy.  What toys do you remember?
 





Jacks!

Slinky!

Fortune Telling Fish!

Tiddlywinks

Balsa Wood Airplanes!

Amazing Elastic Plastic!

Pick-up Sticks!

Parachute Soldiers!













Wind Up Pecking Bird!














Gymnastic Monkey Sticks!

Collapsing Animals!

Flipping Spin Top

Clackers

It's me!

I have had this blog for years, but never put anything much on it.  So today I introduce myself.  I'm a mom who works full-time with three children and a pretty great husband.  My life is a mess, though...literally.  I'm not organized like I would like to be and I can think of a million things that need to happen before housekeeping does.  I love organization, but I just can't seem to develop systems that work for me and my family.

I travel with my job, so when I'm away, things get even messier with all of the household duties falling on my husband, who is amazing at keeping things together.  I love old fashioned things and doing things the old way...but I sometimes cheat! 

When we bought our 1920's house, we filled it with some antiques of the time along with modern conveniences that seemed to fit.  I never really want my house's contents to look like it doesn't belong in its bones, but I also don't want it to look stuffy or uncomfortable.

I have three children...14 year old twins with a cheerleader and a football player, and a 12 year old sports statistician in the making!  Anyone who knows me from school is probably laughing, because I was always more a sports spectator than participant.

I'm hoping to use this blog to store my ideas, my favorite recipes, and my projects.