Yes, I’m grateful for all the sweet, wonderful and sometimes hilarious years I had with my parents. Yes, I’m one of the lucky ones to have a smart & funny husband, a fabulous family, great friends and two adorable terriers who are quite talented at licking my tears away when they fall. I know I’m lucky to have all of these things, yet when you lose a Mom who is also a best friend, your muse and a person you really enjoy hanging out with, it really leaves a gash in your heart.

(ITALIAN LESSON: angry = arrabbiato)

Sometimes I scratch my wound on purpose. I’m a total sucker for family photos, and many nights I’ll grab a pile of childhood pictures and pore over them, treasuring each frame while fondly reminiscing about the good times. Memories dance through my head and I love it, yet it’s like torture (and I am no masochist).

I realize these memories are all I have now. No time to create new ones with Ma, no new jokes or one-liners of hers for me to jot down and share. No more shopping sprees or or chatting while she relaxes on the couch with a coke and one of my furkids (as seen in the photo below) etc. I can’t even ask her a question about the sixteen foster kids she and my loving Dad took in over the years — I just have my own recollections to rely on now.

This will be my second Mother’s Day without her, and it stings – it really just “sucks the big one” to be blunt. No, I don’t plan to beat up another laptop (See: Shaken Laptop Syndrome) or anyone else for that matter (although I may be typing a bit hard on these keys at the moment).

So, do me a favor if your Mom is still here. Give her a hug from me — and make it extra tight.

Comments welcome! HERE.

Remember the littlest things you found so cool when you were a kid? Even now, that feeling still shines through every once in a while for me.

(ITALIAN LESSON: Awesome= Fantastico)

Ok, seriously, who am I kidding? I still feel like a silly kid trapped in a woman’s body most days, and I really don’t mind the childhood flashbacks. In fact, I welcome them. It’s my own time travel machine, and I can flip the “on” switch with only a fond memory or two.

A few of my favorite cool kid things are listed below. Please share some of yours HERE. I’d love to read them!

★ Putting playing cards in the wheels of my bicycle with a clothespin, giving my ride that bad-ass Evil Knievel sound!

★ Rolling up a small piece of paper and stuffing baby powder inside so people thought I was having a ciggie. Remember, in the 70s smoking seemed so chic. Issue was, my powdered “cigarette” was only good for a couple of exhales.

★ My homemade “braces” I created with thin strands of tinfoil. I actually thought friends and neighbors would ask “Oh Lee, when did you get the braces honey?” Luckily, I never needed the real things. Ouch, they do seem painful!

★ My go-cart ruled! Even though it was simply made of painted wood and kind of resembled a crucifix with wheels, my Dad made it for me, and I was fortunate enough to not smack into any trees while flying down our street on it.

★ This “hippie” vest I borrowed from my older cousin Phil. Loved its older kid, free spirit vibe!

Looking forward to hearing your cool kiddie things. Hey, I may even try some of them out!
xo
Me

My Dad — there were so many things about him I simply adored, like how he’d get all misty-eyed when Moses walks down from the mountain with those tablets in The Ten Commandments, how he’d join me to munch on saltines in the middle of the night when I wasn’t feeling well, even those infamous Vicks Vapo smears (see: the VICKS post) but it was his imagination I truly admired.

ITALIAN LESSON: Pancake (crepe) = crespella

While making pancakes last Sunday, I had a sweet reminder of Dad when the batter I poured into the skillet formed a funny little shape. I remember he used to find turtles, butterflies, dogs and many other cute little critters in the pancakes Mom would make. He’d call me over to confirm his findings, especially if Mom wasn’t seeing it, I always did.

Ahhh, the little things in life are what really count in the end. Savor them. Remember to stop and smell the coffee beans — and enjoy your pancakes.

Please share one of your favorite memories of the “little things” in the comments section: HERE.

Mom & Dad provided me with plenty of entertaining moments over the years, and I have many more humorous (umm… neurotic) stories to share. Being my mother’s daughter, I of course, had my own dramatic escapades as well. This particular saga was a long-standing Romano favorite — friends and relatives talked about my “green rosary bead” for at least a decade or two after it made its way into my life….and my nose.

(ITALIAN LESSON: rosary beads – perle di rosario)

When I was about five or six it was just another ordinary day at school when our teacher instructed the class that it was “quiet time”. We were supposed to simply sit still at our desks with our heads resting in our arms (you know the drill). Well, I was feeling a bit fidgety that morning, and I happened to be sporting my shiny new pea-green rosary beads. When I pulled a bit too hard on my holy beads, it was just an instant before my desk had dozens of them rolling around on top of it.

So, what’s a bored kid to do? Put one up their nose, of course! Yep, I was putting one little bead in and “popping” it out — it was pretty amusing! Amusing until one got STUCK UP MY NOSE, and blood was dribbling out all over my desk and the other green beads!

Mom and Dad arrived at the school and off I went to the emergency room. The Doctor took the world’s tinest (and STRONGEST) vacuum and sucked out the foreign object, along with any dignity I happened to have left that day. I went home with some cotton packed up there to stop the bleeding, and decided from that morning on, never to play the “pop-it-out” game with my nostrils again.

I’d love to hear about your embarrassing school moments, so please share them HERE!

There ARE a million ways to be a good mom. I was a very fortunate kid to have a mom who was not only caring — yeah, she was quirky and a little neurotic (in her own fun way) — but my Ma was also a best friend, never at a loss for making me laugh with her amusing comments. Her dramatic antics from back in the day (which used to piss me off then) are now playful stories which always bring a smile to my face.

Mom and I cracked up many times reading these posts featuring her theatrics (like: Turn The Car Around Dominic) and I still have many more entertaining stories to share. I’ve written about her witty way with words several times: Dissin’ & Dishin’ with Mom, My Clever Mom and This Little Piggy, which display her spirited sense of humor.

If you’ve read CRUSH CRAZY, you know comedy and laughter were MUSTS in our home (what can I say, Jerry Lewis was my first crush).

Italian Lesson = bug = insetto

If one of us in the Romano house had a ‘tude, Mom would ask “Do you have a bug up your ass?” Sometimes, it was more of an order like, “get that bug out of your ass!”. We got the message.

A few weeks ago I said “get the bug out of your ass” to my husband, and it really wasn’t appreciated. I guess for me, it’s just another one of Ma’s sayings I still appreciate. Growing up in a loud Italian family, you could be yelling at the top of your lungs one minute (or asking about that bug) and then you’d be perfectly fine the next. I really think the Italians were blessed with “dog memory” when it comes to family arguments. We tend to let things roll off our backs, especially when it comes to LOUD talking in each other’s face.

“Get the bug out of your ass” is still one of my personal faves. So honey, if you’re reading this, if (and when) I say it to you again, I speak it with fondness and amore.

The next time you’re feeling a bit grouchy, just tell yourself to GET THE BUG OUT! Then smile, knowing it originated from a happy place.

Have you ever heard this expression, or said it to someone yourself? Please share HERE

Ahhh…the simple pleasures of being a kid. Last night I saw a cereal commercial on the tube, and I was instantly reminded of my personal breakfast “showings” which would take place right in front of my face at the kitchen table.

Mom was great about buying the cereals I loved, like Quisp (it was either Quisp or Quake, and I was a Quisp gal), Frosted Flakes, Trix, Honeycomb, Fruit Loops and Sugar Smacks — loved how they used the word SUGAR as a selling point — and you’d get a cute little prize inside (those trinkets were so exciting to find)!

My little show was simple. In front of me, facing forward would be my cereal box of choice. As I enjoyed my cold milk-filled bowl of delicious sugary flavor, I would rotate the box and read the sides, saving the pièce de résistance (the back of the box where ALL the fun stuff was) as my finale!

Such free and simple entertainment for a kid. How I miss those days of carefree living and having all the time in the world to read my array of cereal boxes.

ITALIAN LESSON: I have cereal for breakfast = mangio cereali per colazione

I’d love to hear what your favorite cereals were (or still are). Please share in the comments section HERE.

Lil bits, bit bits, little bitch, e-little-bits, and e-lil-bitch were collective nicknames for my given name, Elizabeth. My cousin Suzanne called me most of them, with bit bits and little bitch her personal faves. E-liz-a-beth is a lot of name for a two year old.

Imagine if my parents had chosen to name me Domenica! This was the preference of my Sicilian grandmother, though going up against the feisty woman that was my mom, Nan had little hope of winning the name game. I always thought I was named after the Queen of England, but mom pointed out it was Elizabeth Taylor who inspired her choice. Hey, not too shabby, right?

Elizabeth IS a pretty name, with more than it’s share of nicknames (Bess, Betty, Bessie, Eli, Liz, Lizzy, Libby, etc.).
I, however, was having none of those — or even Elizabeth. One day, when I was about two, Mom heard a commotion coming from my room. When she swung my bedroom door open, my entire baby wardrobe was thrown all over the place (think: clothing explosion!) and there I was happily jumping up and down on my bed yelling proudly, “LEE LEE’S MESS! LEE LEE’S MESS!” If only we had YouTube back then…DAMN, we would’ve gone viral!

(ITALIAN LESSON: Nickname – Soprannome)

Anyway, Lee Lee “stuck”. I was called Lee Lee for a few years, and then one of the Lees simply fell away. Mom’s vision of the beautiful name she chose for her daughter vanished too, since Lee is what I go by today. Mom and Dad did use Elizabeth when I was acting up though, since four syllables made for much better yelling power.

Do you have a nickname? I’d love to hear your childhood nicknames that stuck – or didn’t. Please share HERE.

Those of you over 40 probably remember the late 60s/early 70s TV comedy Family Affair. The show was about a well-paid hip bachelor with a to die for Manhattan apartment who, after his brother and sister-in-law die in an accident (wow what a fun premise for a comedy!), “inherits” three of his brother’s children. The trio included 6 year old red-headed twins Buffy and Jody – who totally annoyed me – and their 15 year old sister, Cissy.

ITALIAN LESSON: To swear = bestemmiare

In my four-year old mind, the real star of the show was the house butler, Mr. French. Mr. French was a proper English gentleman, and he seemed so likable to me. Looking back, I actually think I was more intrigued with his real name than his character on the show or that signature black umbrella he toted around New York. You see, the actor’s name was Sebastian Cabot, but I thought it was Sir Bastard Cabinet.

I think Mom and I called him Sir Bastard Cabinet for years, even once I knew what his name really was (and I think Mom just got a kick out of it). Plus, it was burned into my brain cells, just like freckles (see Freckles post).

Next up, a post about how my four syllable first name became the one syllable name it is today. Wow, how lucky I am to have so many sweet memories, thanks to hours upon hours of chats with my Mom. Kudos to Mom, and thank you to Sir Bastard.

Please share in the comments spot: Do you remember this show and/or what were YOUR funny names for people from your childhood?

I remember my Mom and her ladyfriends talking about cradle cap when I was little. I was so grossed out. My brother is eight years younger than I and I quickly learned babies are precious, beautiful, funny and sometimes very gross. One day my mother and I were watching TV on the leather couch in our living room with my one and a half year old brother in Mom’s lap. Watching TV with my Mom was so much fun. It was the sixties. So TV, 500 Rummy, Barbie and Etch a Sketch were huge for me.

After Mom had fed, changed and put baby brother to sleep, she was straightening up the living room. Mom was born in Germany. She was so much fun and the cleanest person I have ever known. A speck of dust had no chance of surviving her daily cleaning routine, which was top to bottom, every single day. Her motto was you don’t wait for the house to be dirty to clean it, you clean it every day so it will never be dirty.

So baby brother is asleep, Mom is straightening up the living room; a stray piece of popcorn here, an M&M there, and she picks up the M&M and casually pops it in her mouth. She immediately spits it in her hand and with a grossed out look on her face says “Mein Gott (OMG with the accent), its a sh!tball!” Diapers back then left a lot to be desired as far as gaps go, and it seems my baby brother occasionally produced an abundance of small balls of what he would later call “dookie.” (Well he still calls it dookie and he’ll be 48 this April!) I guess one of us sat on a stray M&M flattening it on the leather couch, but it really did look exactly like a brown M&M!

How my father loved hearing that story upon his return from work. He was fun too, and seized any opportunity to tease her. Forevermore, when my Mom’s continuous cleaning got on his nerves (this included his precious Sunday NY Times being completely folded, put back together, with pen put back in its place by my Mom, in the time it took Dad to pour a cup of coffee or run to the bathroom), whenever she complained about him being messy (again, messy could mean you were having a snack and did not sweep the crumbs off the table every 10 seconds), he would say “Oh calm down, you ate a sh!tball!!”

Irene & her family

Thanks for the laugh Irene – I can practically hear your mother’s accent!
~ Me