Author Archives: bonnybard

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About bonnybard

A weaver of tales of truth and fiction.

Almost there

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The last week before Christmas, the last day before the end of the world… Honestly, I kept asking myself all day, would I be doing this if the world were really ending tomorrow? The answer, of course, was always no. No, I wouldn’t have met with the other class mothers to sort out Christmas pageant problems over coffee this morning. No, I wouldn’t have gone to the gym. And definitely, no I wouldn’t have spent most of the morning packing for my trip to Houston. I wouldn’t have had white rice and vegetables for lunch, I wouldn’t have spent three hours at the hairdressers getting my hair de-frizzed so my mom doesn’t spend the next 19 days telling me how unkempt I look, and I would not have spent the past hour fighting with the British Airways website trying to get on their frequent flyer program.

What would I have done instead? I have no clue. I can’t imagine what sort of activities are appropriate if one’s existence were to be knowingly and expectedly wiped out. I definitely would have wanted to spend that time with my kids, eating Nutella, and watching cartoons. But I also would have wanted to spend that time alone with the Husband, enjoying… ahem… each other’s company. Or with my family, or my friends… But mostly I realized that if I were to cease to exist, or rather, when I cease to exist, cause there’s really no getting around that, is there? I would want to do it suddenly, unknowingly, as I go by my daily business, because, at the end of the day, I can’t imagine planning a perfect day. There would be too many “last things” I’d want to do, and that day would become never-ending, and all those last things would lose their significance, their “specialness”. I can’t imagine any one last thing that would make my total obliteration meaningful.

So I go about my business, sorting clothes into suitcases, trying to plan for everything as usual, I go about my day, my very mundane tasks, methodically, purposefully, because that is all I can do. Tomorrow the kids have their Christmas Pageant and I can’t forget the appropriate outfits, I have to distribute the last raffle tickets, I have to pack my carry-ons and unearth my passports from the mountain of unfiled crap all over my desk. I have to get two last-minute gifts and I have to go to the bank to get my engagement ring, without which I simply won’t travel but which can’t stay in the house cause we’ve been have a flurry of petty thefts in our neighborhood. I absolutely, positively, have to make it to the post office to send off a very important package. I have to get all teary-eyed and sniffley when my kids, an angel and a friar respectively, get onstage tomorrow afternoon. And then I have to quietly freak out about our trip on Saturday.

So you see, I don’t have time for the world to end. Not tomorrow.

Road trip!

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I’m off today, off in a beautiful land filled with children, two at a time, dogs, handsome ranger husbands, and snow… lots and lots of snow. I’m in Alaska today, freezing my butt off, if I may add…

Just kidding, the lovely Bridget of Twinisms has left the kids, dog and snow in favor of a week in the sun with the aforementioned husband just back from Afghanistan. She asked if anyone was interested in guest posting, I excitedly said yes, and then forgot about it… Thankfully Bridget is a really nice gal and send me a “where the hell have you disappeared to” email so I got my butt in gear and she kindly found me a spot in the lineup.

So go visit me there please, and find out how much of a workout my butt’s been getting.

Notice how I’ve written butt at least four times already? That’s in honor of Jackson, a.k.a. BUTTCHEEKS!

Now go, go, go! http://twinisms.com/2012/12/16/on-the-hot-seat/

My gun or yours?

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I love the US. I grew up there. It’s my home. I love Texas. It’s the best state in the union. (or so we think.) Up to a few years ago I would’ve given anything to be able to move back. And then I had kids, and though I would love nothing more than to have them grow up there, because there are many, many wonderful things about the United States of America, I simply cannot imagine taking them voluntarily to a place where 27 people in an elementary school can be randomly gunned down by an idiot. (And also, healthcare is unacceptable, but that’s another post).

I live in Italy, there are hunters here too, people have guns in Italy too, one in six families, in fact, keep a firearm in the home. But to get a gun you have to jump through a thousand and one hoops, you are not allowed to walk around with a gun, you are not allowed to carry a concealed weapon, you are not allowed to walk into a public space with a gun, and, you are certainly not allowed to shoot a gun. Yes, you read that right. No shooting. Unless you’re in a shooting range, or aiming at ducks. You’re not even allowed to shoot someone invading your home unless they’ve shot a gun at you (although I personally don’t agree with this exaggerated interpretation of proportional force). What all this means is that Italians don’t take the use of guns in the same excessively cavalier, I done gone and shot him dead, way that Americans do.

Because guns here are scary, they’re seen as frightening, which frankly is the way it should be, because guns actually do shoot one dead. And sure, you can kill someone with a knife, or with a rope, or with your bare hands, in fact, but all these other ways of killing people take a certain degree of skill, whereas you barely need basic motor skills to kill someone with a gun. Guns are too damn easy to use, which is why they need to be regulated. I absolutely believe in the right to bear arms, but every right should be accompanied by obligations, by responsibilities and by limitations. Because it is absolutely unacceptable, in an evolved society, that small children be gunned down in the middle of the school day. We are not barbarians, we need to stop behaving that way. Guns have to be regulated, because we simply cannot count on every person toting a gun to be responsible, and the alternative is too horrifying to be left up to chance, we’ve had proof enough of that.

I’m guest posting over at my friend Bridget’s wonderful blog Twinisms later today, as she’s off enjoying a much deserved Hawaiian vacation. Please stop by and visit me there too!

Because TV and cancer just don’t go hand in hand

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Let me just start off by saying that I don’t have high hopes of this post actually making sense to everyone, but bear with me because I’m pretty pissed off. But first a quick tangent to get the new readers up to speed: my husband had leukemia, he was diagnosed at the end of 2009, he had chemo, radiation therapy and a bone marrow transplant in 2010. And we thought he had beat it. In February 2011 he was re-diagnosed, he had more chemo and another bone marrow transplant. He’s been in remission since. And now back to the point of this post.

I’ve just recently found a way to watch Netflix in Italy (not available here) so I’ve been doing a LOT of the watching of tv shows. In fact, I’ve started watching Brothers and Sisters. It’s a decent show, funny at times, sad at times, Rob Lowe is in it… I’m about half way through season 4, and if I wasn’t so late to the party (it aired a couple of years ago, I think) I would contact the writers and tell them to go screw themselves. Or, you know, to do some research before writing stuff. Now, I’m not an idiot (most of the time), I know that tv shows aren’t real and much of the stuff they portray does not reflect reality, I also get that most of us watch tv to get away from reality not get slapped in the face with it. But still.

One of the characters, Kitty, has lymphoma, she has chemo, she loses her hair, she doesn’t seem to be getting better, the second round of chemo doesn’t work, so she has a bone marrow transplant. Three weeks later: she’s fine! In remission! In fact, she’s home with her baby! Her blood white cell count is up! And OMG a few months later she’s considering running for office. WOW!

To be honest I’m not sure why this pissed me off so much, I don’t think we’re actually going to have a zombie apocalypse nor do I believe that the vampires are among us, but these episodes hit a little too close to home.

The Husband had his second BM transplant over a year and a half ago, and he still hasn’t recuperated his energy. When you get a BM transplant you’re in a sterile room for weeks afterwards, once you get to go home your immune system is still so suppressed you have to wear a mask everywhere, even in your own home, your child gets a cold and you have to stay away from them, and you’re certainly not hugging and kissing all your family members with tears and soulful music moments before a transplant.

A year and a half later, and the Husband still has to take a crap load of meds to keep his immune system suppressed, because if he doesn’t his immune system will attack his body. He’s got scars all over his torso from GVHD (graft versus host disease) which happens when they adjust his meds, because his liver or his kidneys are overloaded, and he gets these horrible red splotches all over his skin, because his immune system, the transplanted bone marrow, doesn’t recognize the rest of his body. He gets tired, easily. His heart is stressed, as are his lungs, from the radiation therapy.

He’s better, of course, every day that passes he gets a little better, but he’s not fine. Not by any stretch of the imagination. His hair hasn’t even grown back. The first time around it was all back after six months, but the meds he’s taking now are keeping his hair from growing back, and he hates it. He hates being bald, because he didn’t become bald “naturally” he’s bald because of the disease, so every time he looks in the mirror he remembers how sick he was, and how unwell he still is.

A few months ago, he had some very bad stomach pains and he was nauseous, there was a stomach flu going around. He felt horrible for twenty-four hours, we had to call the doctor in the middle of the night. The doc gave him two shots but told him that if he wasn’t feeling better by morning he had to go to the hospital, that he should have, in fact, gone straight to the hospital. I have never seen anyone more terrified of anything in his life. He was shaking, not from the pain, but from the fear of having to go back in.

This is what it’s like a year and a half after a bone marrow transplant. You get better, slowly. You go on with your life, partially. You get stronger, hopefully. But you certainly aren’t back to normal. In fact, you can’t even see normal off out on the horizon. And you absolutely aren’t off running for office.

Linking up today with Shell from Things I can’t say

Monday Listicles, the food edition.

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Hello friends, it’s Monday Listicle time! This week Stasha’s assignment is pure torture for me, as I have to do another no carb, no sugar, my meals are so boring and I’m starving all the time week. Thank god my personal trainer values his life and only makes me do this for a week at a time! But since this was Bridget’s idea, I couldn’t very well ignore it, although I was tempted since she’s in Hawaii on vacation and I’m green with envy! But no one deserves a vacation more than Bridget and her husband so I’m putting my envy aside. My love and loyalty to her notwithstanding, I couldn’t very well make myself sit here and think about all the lovely things I want to eat but can’t… so I decided on another angle. I like to cook, I hate the daily drudgery of having to come up with what’s for dinner, but once I know what I’m doing I enjoy the process, and baking and decorating relax me into a very zen state. So, I figured, why not share my ten favorite cookbooks, I’m addressing the food category while not having to actually think about specific foods, because honestly, I’m starving, and I know you don’t want to torture me, reading everyone’s posts will be torture enough!!

My ten favorite cookbooks:

Joy

1. The Joy of Cooking – this is my absolute go to recipe book for everything, if you only have room in your life for one cookbook this is the one you should have.

 

 

 

Nourishing

2. Nourishing Traditions – this is the first “real food” cookbook I bought and it really changed my outlook on a lot of things, it’s easy to follow and very informative.

 

 

 

casserole

3. The Best Casserole Cookbook Ever – I love casseroles, cause they’re easy and comforting and many of them are make ahead and after dinner I don’t have to wash a hundred pots.

 

 

Lost Art

4. The Lost Art of Real Cooking – this book is lovely to read, the two authors each write their own recipes in two completely different styles. It’s funny, and entertaining and the recipes are wonderful.

 

 

putemup

5. Put ‘em up – I have a vegetable garden, which is great, but it also means that when the eggplants or the zucchini or the tomatoes are in that’s all we eat for a month. Canning and other preserving methods have really saved my sanity, cause after eating string beans every day for two weeks straight you kind of want to kill yourself.

 

forgotten skills

6. Forgotten Skills of Cooking – this book does what it says in the title, if you want to learn how to debone a duck, for example, you either need this book here or Julia Child’s Mastering the art of French cooking. Not that I’ve ever deboned a duck, but should I need to, I’m totally covered.

 

 

canning

7. Canning for a New Generation: A seasonal guide to filling the modern pantry – see number 5.

 

 

 

talismano

8. Il Talismano della Felicità – this is my favorite Italian cookbook. Not many people in Italy have it nowadays, but my grandma used it, my aunt used it, my mom uses it…. It’s a bit old fashioned, and has no pictures, but just like the Joy of Cooking it’s one of those must have books.

 

 

onceamonth

9. Once-a-Month Cooking – this book I just bought, so I haven’t tried it out yet, but it looks fab, and honestly cooking only once a month and then just defrosting and making maybe a side or salad is my dream of kitchen utopia.

 

 

smitten

10. The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook – this book I haven’t yet bought, mainly because the Husband has threatened to kick me out of the house if I buy one more cookbook. But I love the smitten kitchen blog, and the author Deb Perelman, her pictures are gorgeous and her food is mouthwateringly good, and she really tries to simplify her recipes so you don’t make a gigantic mess in the kitchen, what more can we ask for?!

 

So what are your favorite foods (or cookbooks, or any other food related thing, in fact!)?

The – why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut – Monday Listicle

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Hi! This week the Listicle subject is my fault. Thanks Stasha for picking my suggestion! But you should really learn to ignore me, because this week, the listicle is just too damn hard, what the hell was I thinking??!!

I’ll tell you what I was thinking, a few listicles ago Ducky suggested we write ten amazing memories and it felt wonderful to remember some of the great things that have happened to me and to just generally look at the positive, so on the resulting high I tweeted this suggestion to Stasha: @NorthWestMommy Hey Stasha, how about 10 reasons why I’m great, just to get us in a positive mood before the Christmas insanity.

GAWD! Now what do I write? Cause I can’t very well ignore my own Listicle suggestion now can I? Note to self: next time write out the list before suggesting it to others. Why am I making such a big deal of this, you ask? Because what I hadn’t thought of is how to actually write this list without sounding like a gigantic self-important ass, or being falsely modest.

Anyway… here goes ten reasons why I’m wonderful (without being an ass or falsely modest.)

1. I can throw a pretty great party. Of course, I’m a nervous wreck by the time the party starts and don’t enjoy myself at all, but everyone else is happy and that’s what counts.

2. I worked for my husband for two years (as in he was my boss, I answered directly to him, I was managing a company that belonged to his family, so no pressure at all) and I managed not to kill him.

3. I generally learn from my mistakes (I’ll never work for my husband again, no matter how enticing the offer).

4. I get stuff done (when I’m not procrastinating).

5. I speak five languages (four fluently, one passably, I made no effort to learn any of them, it just happened when I was a kid).

6. I can out argue almost anyone.

7. I can also annoy almost anyone to the brink of suicide, which means I usually get what I set after.

8. I read really, really fast.

9. I can usually bake or cook myself out of any conflict (unless my mother is around, in which case I can’t cook at all for some reason).

10. I’m a really good mother. I know, I shouldn’t say it, but I am. I’m not the best mother out there, I’m not the most patient, I’m not the most fun, I’m not perfect, obviously, but my kids are well-mannered, they’re nice to everyone, they’re happy 99% of the time, they know right from wrong, and they’re very, very loved. This is actually the one that lifts my spirits up when I’m down, or when I’m wondering if I’m doing anything right, I look at them and they’re happy, so yeah, I’m doing a good job.

I’m going to be looking over this list often in the next month or so, when the holiday blues hit, when I’m overloading on too much family time, too many obligations, when I inevitably forget to mail Christmas cards, or buy someone important a present, when I’m fighting with my husband or my kids because that’s what too much holiday togetherness and too much holiday sugar does to us. And I’ll be looking over all of your lists too, because it’s important to remember how wonderful each of us is, but it’s also important to remember how much wonderfulness surrounds us.

Thanks Stasha for coming up with Monday Listicles, and for picking mine this week!

By the way… I got sucked back into the black hole for bloggers that is twitter, so please be nice and follow me. If only for my self-esteem… and yes, I will soon (soonish) set up the easy and practical sidebar button for just this here purpose, for now click on the link or search for thebonnybard or follow the smoke signals… please and thank you.

The grandmother wars (going on nowhere but my own head).

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We’re going to Houston again this year for Christmas, YAY! Even though we already went last year, the Husband graciously conceded to go again as otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to go till at least next October, what with the house reno, and the move, and honestly, who wants to be in Houston in August, plus I’d really like to have the kids experience at least one real, honest to goodness, Halloween in the US before they start big kid school in 2014, (and that’s all of next year summed up in a short paragraph), all to say that I get to go home for Christmas! (and did I mention, YAY!!).

Anyway, I’m having a bit of a mental quandary this week… Talking to my mom the other day, she mentioned that she’d like us to have some rules for our stay, that she’d like the kids to eat with the adults at lunch, but not at dinner because she wants to be able to spend some uninterrupted, quality, time with me and would like to be able to have adult conversation at dinner. And, of course, I said that was fine and we’d work it out since we’re her guests and all and it isn’t a completely unreasonable request. But I won’t deny that it got me thinking… Well, first of all, if last year was any indication the kids won’t be eating with her at lunch either since they have lunch at noon and that’s pretty much right after breakfast for her, and if their not eating dinner with her either then she won’t be seeing an awful lot of them during our stay.

But this is nothing new, I have no doubt in my mind whatsoever that my mother loved my brother and I a great deal, but I also am very clear on the fact that she was never particularly interested in us. She cared that we were healthy, and well fed, and doing well in school, and generally happy, but she was never one of those mothers who was really interested in what we were doing (unless it was something we weren’t supposed to be doing), she never asked what we were reading or thinking or doing if we weren’t in trouble and weren’t bothering her directly. She is pretty self-absorbed, she always has been and I don’t think we suffered particularly from it growing up.

But it bothers me a great deal in regards to my children. There are times that she will talk to me for half an hour about some completely mundane thing going on in her life before she finally asks about the kids, and it’s a completely perfunctory question, I could answer “fine” or go into minute detail about all the wonderful new things that they are doing and it is exactly the same to her. It doesn’t help that on the other side of the family they’ve got a fantastic grandmother. My mother in law, with whom I fight regularly because I don’t want her to give them candy, or some other completely ridiculous thing about which I need to assert my dominance, comes to see the kids once or twice a month and she plays with them. For hours. She came to stay at my house when I left for a weekend to be with my mother before her wedding, she came again for a week when I had to go to Brazil to see my grandma. She takes over responsibility, despite the fact that she knows I’m going to find something wrong with her actions, because I’m a gigantic pain in the ass sometimes, and also a control freak, and yet she watches my children, she entertains them, she scolds them, and cuddles them, and takes really great care of them so that I can go do my thing. She is genuinely interested in them. The first thing she asks whenever she calls me is how they are, and what they’re doing, and then she proceeds to the rest of the conversation. My mother and my mother in law are at exactly the opposite ends of the grandmother spectrum, and it kind of pisses me off, because I would like my mother to be the really great grandmother. Or better yet, I wish my kids had two really great grandmothers.

I’m constantly making excuses up for my mother, she lives far away and hasn’t seen them as much, she’s young to be a grandmother, she’s got a new husband and she’s just not that into kids. These are all valid points. But they’re not a good enough explanation. Not that I think there’s more to it than that, but in my mind it is simply not good enough. Because, frankly, my kids are freakin’ adorable. She should want to spend time with them, she should be interested in them, she shouldn’t care that they take over our meal times because she can spend quality time with me in other moments of the day, She should want to spend as much time as possible with them because she only sees them two or three times a year. But she doesn’t. She’s just not interested, and I simply don’t understand it. I accept it, I’m not angry, I know what she’s like, but I am disappointed. My mother talks about her cats the way she should talk about her grandkids.

I know she loves them, when we went for Christmas last year, she made the house perfect for them, she made us perfectly comfortable, she was welcoming, and she put up two Christmas trees, a beautiful magical one to look at, and a smaller one for the kids to play with, with ornaments they could touch and rearrange and eat… that was pretty nice, and thoughtful of her. She cooks for them, and she does really cool stuff like she got the Boy a gigantic Lightning McQueen bed and this year she’s looking for a cool bed for the girl, but she’s not all that interested in them. I realize I can’t expect her to be perfect, and I grew up with her so I know her attitude isn’t going to do any lasting damage, but I wish she was interested in them anyway, I wish she was a more involved grandmother.

My kids love her, and they’re happy to see her, but they also don’t mind too much if they don’t see her. But they get super excited when my mother in law comes over, they ask about her when she hasn’t been back for a while and they are genuinely upset when she leaves. I guess I’m a little jealous maybe, I know this isn’t a contest but we’re losing dammit!

Also, I’m nervous about our visit, which, thankfully, will be short compared to last year (two weeks rather than almost two months), but last year I had the nanny with me and despite that my mom felt like the kids were invasive, I cannot even begin to imagine what it’s going to be like with no help. I don’t know… I’m sure it’ll work out fine and we’ll figure it out, but I can’t shake this feeling that still, she should be more interested in them. I realize that it’s a bit arrogant of me, and presumptuous, and maybe also a little bit sad, because the truth probably is, that while I feel bad for my kids, I also feel bad for me because despite my age and the distance it still hurts a little bit that she’s still not all that interested in what amounts to really the coolest thing I’ve ever done.

The – a photo’s worth a thousand words – Monday Listicle

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It’s list-making time, my friends, and this week Stasha made it real easy for us. As per Jessica’s suggestion we’re posting ten pictures from our cellphones. Of course, I couldn’t keep it at ten, evidently I’m in the rebellious stage of the Monday Listicle evolution and I can’t seem to just keep my lists at ten. I apologize for my disregard for directions and I’d like to assure Stasha that it is  just a phase, soon enough I’ll be able to follow the listicle rules once again! So, here we go:

Ten (or so) photos of this weekend from my cellphone, plus one from a few weeks back (guess which one!)

1.

On friday I did this…

2.

…to make this…

3.

…and this…

4.

…because of this…

5.

On saturday we did this…

6.

… and a little of this…

7.

… then we went to the supermarket like this…

8.

On sunday, we woke up to a lovely early morning serenade thanks to this super fun (and not at all annoying) present from my mother in law.

9.

… and then we finally finished this…

10.

… and then we went out and wanted to buy all of these…

11.

…once home we felt the need for some of this…

12.

… and at long last we did this.

Happy Monday everyone!!!

Happy Birthday Darling Girl

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You turned three today, you’re such a big girl. Just this past month you went from your crib to a big girl bed, and then last week you decided you didn’t want the safety rail anymore, you dress yourself, you brush your teeth, you help wash the dishes… you’re so independent! Everything is “io faccio” or sometimes “I do it”. You get frustrated and pouty when you can’t get something done, but you keep at it until you do it. You’re so headstrong, and tenacious, which makes life exhausting for me, but will be so great for your future. You’ve finally, finally, started letting me put your hair up, though you yell at me when it pulls (every morning when I comb it) but it’s ok, because you look so cute in pigtails.

You’ve got more energy than your brother, father, and I combined, I don’t know where you get it.You ’re independent, but you’re so cuddly too. A study in contradictions, everything in excess. When I put your pjs on, you get on my lap on the glider chair and we just rock and rock quietly breathing. I try to hold on to these moments with both hands for when you’re splayed out on the floor, screaming, throwing a tantrum of epic proportions.

I love the mornings when you wake up early and come in my bed, you cuddle up against me until every nook and cranny of your little body is melded into mine and then you fall asleep. Heaven. Nights are for your brother, mornings are for you.

You’re three years old, today, I can barely believe it. I love each new step, each new conquest, I love all the things you can do, but time, it seems to be going so fast to someone like me, I almost want to keep you like this forever. I said almost. You’re so eager, eager to do things, eager to see things, and you get excited over the silliest things, and you make them seem wonderful to the rest of us. I pray you never lose your spirit, your joy, your love of life (which, I honestly believe you got from my dad, your Nonno Fabrizio).

Your emotions are so strong, when you love your brother, you love him so much, so much, when you’re angry at me, you’re so angry, so angry, when you’re having fun, you have such fun, such fun! You’re such a sweet girl, with just the right amount of sass to keep us on our toes. And the sweetest moments of my day are watching you and your brother playing together, because you play so well, I hope you never lose that, I hope you’re always friends.

You’re three years old today, it feels like a lot, but they’re not that many at all.

Happy Birthday, darling girl, I love you miles and miles, your smile lights up my life, you make my heart sing.

I’m a treasure, a treasure I tell you!

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I’m starting to wonder whether I may have a mild case of OCD, because yesterday I reloaded the dishwasher. In this house, the dishwasher gets loaded by whoever seems to be in the kitchen when dirty plates materialize in the sink, sometimes it’s me, sometimes it’s the housekeeper, rarely it’s the husband, but that generally is an indication of a forthcoming snowstorm in July or some other completely unlikely and possibly catastrophic meteorological event.

Yesterday, the housekeeper loaded the dishwasher, and when I went to put in a few more of the stray dirty items that periodically appear all day long as if by magic, I rearranged all the glasses and bowls that were already in there. Because they were askew, whereas, clearly, dishes in the dishwasher need to form neat, color-coded, itemized rows. Clearly. Also, the glasses have to be alternated with the kids’ plastic cups and baby bottles so they don’t bang against each other, knives have to go in point down, and plates arranged in decreasing order of size. Apparently, it is vital to my mental well being that the dishes be arranged just so in the dishwasher. In fact, I may be averting all manner of cataclysmic events with my precise and orderly dishwashing habits. Some may hint that it’s annoying to live with someone like me, but frankly I know I’m a treasure rarely to be found. Or something along those lines.

By the way… I got sucked back into the black hole for bloggers that is twitter, so please be nice and follow me. If only for my self-esteem… and yes, I will soon (soonish) set up the easy and practical sidebar button for just this here purpose, for now click on the link or search for thebonnybard or follow the smoke signals… please and thank you.