it's the simple things...

It's the simple things that bring joy to a 3 year old, like helping Nonno and Nonna to pick out a Christmas tree. 

It's the simple things that remind me of the important things in life: God, my husband, my family and my friends.

Christmas time reminds me to slow down and remember the true meaning and spirit of the season.

'Tis the gift to be loving, tis the best gift of all

Like a quiet rain it blesses where it falls

And with it we will truly believe

'Tis better to give than it is to receive

{Simple Gifts}

To be loving...

it really is the best gift of all.

fourth of july, 2012

The fourth of july has come and gone. 

We enjoyed our hometown parade,

along with a visit from Grandma,

and spending time with Nonna and Nonno (who for some reason escaped the pictures this year),

in what I consider my true hometown.

We spent time in both because we do not have fireworks in ours,

and it's a MUST in my book!

Always my little model,

Anna loves everything about the fourth of July.

I managed to get a shot of all 3, completely at random,

and a shot of me (we missed Erik, he had to work!)

 and our growing family.

I'd love to freeze each of them in time as they are now...

and if by preserving them in photographs is the closest I'll come,

I'll be glad that I had these moments to look back and treasure.

a visit with nonni

How the years come...

and how they go...

and oh, how much love is in my heart for my grandmother, Adriana.

She is a member of the FBI...a Full Blooded Italian. Italian is her native language and if you are really lucky, you can get her to speak it.

 She is a long-time survivor...of depression. 

She is a widow...to one of the most amazing men I have known, my Nonno Ernie. 

She is...an avid reader.

She loves stationery...I'm pretty certain that's who I've got that love from. 

It's difficult for her to write, in fact, I don't know if she can anymore, but when she did, she signed all her cards with"Lovingly"...so I had it inscribed in Erik's wedding band when we got married. 

She is and always has been very generous...making sure to know the mailman or the paper boy (back in the day), or taking me and my Cousin Catherine 

on a trip of a lifetime to Italy for our college graduation.

She is 89 and ailing, but it doesn't stop her from loving.

She gets frustrated that she can't be and do all the things that she once did, yet she still

appreciates a visit from her daughter, her granddaughter and her great-grandkids.  

She is...my only living grandparent. I don't visit her as much as I would like, but when I do, I make sure that she knows that she is a gift. I make sure to poke a little fun at her, 'cause if anyone can it's me, and she'll still take a joke. I make sure that she knows how very much I love her and I thank her for being my grandmother. I make sure that the kids give her a hug and a kiss. "You know how much you love Nonna?" "Yes", they reply. "That's how much I love my Nonni!"

 They don't know my Nonni like I do, but they know how much I love her and that matters to them.

Love is love.

Though Nonni tires easily and our time with her is brief, it's just enough. Just enough for her, I believe,  to have the hands that she cared for for so many years...

care for, and hold her right back.

i see this...

I see this...

and I can't help but feel happiness as it transfers from my eyes to my heart. I can't help but want to take their happiness and bottle it up in a jar, to hold on to it, treasure it, savor it. This, is the image of an almost 5 year old little boy, a kid, and an almost 60 year old grandmother. 

My son, my mother.

This, is the kind of happiness that is born into this world, and never leaves.

A kid, and a kid at heart. 

They share this special bond, as it was imprinted on their souls the day they were born. 

Ever met anyone like that before?

These two, they got the memo.

I see this...

and I can't help but feel care-free. The kind that I'm certain that if I remembered, I would have felt when I was this age, when I was almost 3. It didn't matter what time it was, I didn't have any deadlines, or pressing matters.

She just hits the ground running, takes in the glorious sunshine, 

and smiles.

My daughter, care-free.

I see this...

and I think the world would be a less happier place if it weren't for ice cream.

I see this...

and wonder what she's thinking, it must be very important.

I see this...

and I think to myself, life is an amazing miracle, isn't it?

I see this...

and I think to myself, how proud I am to be his mother.

I see this...

and I feel blessed. 

Thank you, God.

Life is good.

another trip to traintown

Last weekend, we took yet another trip to Traintown. I've lost count how many times I've gone with the kids, let alone how many times I've been since I was a little girl. You'd think that I'd be sick of it by now, not so. The steam engine ready to pull it's pint sized passengers, puffs away and Anna eagerly shouts, "I hear the whistle!"

Twists and turns and through the tunnel, Kieran and Anna raise their hands in the air and joyfully scream. There's no such thing as afraid of the dark while at Traintown. We arrive at our stop to feed the animals that seem like they have been frozen in time from 30 short years ago. 

It's no matter that we have the same pictures each time we go...

of the schoolhouse,

 of the jailhouse,

of the outhouse.

It's no matter that we have the same pictures waiting for the train ride to arrive...

waiting for the train to chugga...

or choo.

It's still a thrill to ride the merry-go-round...

 to wave at your mommy and people you don't know,

to look as though you are riding for the very first time with the simple joy of going up and down,

and around and around...

even at 29 weeks pregnant.

It wouldn't be another trip to Traintown, if it wasn't topped off with a coin operated horse that whips pigtails in the wind,

and has little boys pretending to be a jockey (while Nonna commentates in the background)

who of course,

wins the race!

No, it's not just another trip to Traintown. It's another day to be care-free. Another day to have fun. Another day to love life. Another day to be thankful of my roots where I was born and raised.

And another day to know that so strong as the roots I've been given, I am strong enough to pass on to them:

that one day, they will take their children and me as their Nonna,
to another trip
to Traintown.

Humm-baby!

If you are a baseball fan like my mother, then you know when I say, "Humm-baby!", I am referring to the San Francisco Giants. Born and raised in San Francisco, my mom is a die hard Giants fan. What you don't see hidden in her backpack, is the Giants baseball hat that Erik usually refuses to allow Kieran to wear :).

All of this was a momentous occasion as this was Kieran's 1st BART ride as well as his first ever, baseball game! How great is it that it was a Giants vs Dodgers game? This of course, was the only way that Erik would allow Kieran to go to his first game. He was certain that Nonna's team would lose and L.A. would win.

While there, we had so much fun! Kieran and Erik went down the slide (he couldn't go down the big one because he wasn't tall enough, but he was bummed and is definitely brave enough!)

And, much to my surprise, without a big production, Kieran even got to wear his Giants hat as he sat with Daddy in his Dodger blue :)

Of course, how could I leave out pictures of Kieran and Nonna? The Giants-wear just intensifies once we're in the park!

Nonna trained Kieran to say, "Beat L.A.!" Now all we have to do is get him a Giants sweatshirt and he's good to go!
It was a fantastic game, the Giants swept! Not only did Kieran get to run the kids bases,

He also got to run the REAL bases after the game!

And, proof that a brand new Giants fan (no, not me, I root for the Giants when I'm there, but I don't follow baseball so I don't qualify) and a lifelong Dodgers fan, really can get along :) :

(Kieran would be wearing his hat, but what baseball game would be a baseball game if you didn't have someone spill their beer all over your hat?!)

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we have our own version of Humm-Baby.
What's this you ask?

And this?

This my friends, is only a fraction of what is actually taking place behind those ET zipper walls. This, all caused by a tiny crack in the water line to the fridge, that leaked while we were on vacation. Do yourself a favor and check the back of your fridge. If the water line is plastic tubing, RUN to Home Depot and buy the $25 kit to change it out to copper. Hmm...would have been nice for the fridge repairman to have told us this when he installed it 4 years ago!

 A couple of weeks ago, I was reading Rage Against the Minivan, thinking, how awful to have your house in shambles due to water damage! Behind this containment is a kitchen that is no longer in working order. A kitchen, that was just remodeled 2 years ago. Behind this containment, is our tile floor ripped out to the subfloor. It will have to be ripped out through the entire house. The solid hardwood floor that was installed nail by nail by my dad and my husband? Gone. There are dryers and dehumidifiers (who knew that I'd one day have to call on my cousin Johnny to come to my house for restoration after all of his stories? Thank goodness for awesome cousins!) that run all day, and all night.
They hum.
Humm-baby.