You Know You are Italian When...

1. You see a pair of shoes you absolutely must have in the window of a shop at 12:59 pm. and you have resigned yourself to accepting the fact that you must wait until 4:00 pm to buy them.
2. You are one of the 98% of the population at 1:00 pm and 8:00 pm sitting at the table eating pasta.
3. Conversing with women breastfeeding babies in the cafe, on the train, in the park, in front of school, trying on clothes no longer phases you.
4. Your child screams, "Mommy, there's no toilet paper!! and you calmly whip out a packet of tissues from your purse.
5. You know the type of undergarments your neighbors wear because you see them hanging on the clothesline every day.
6. You can no longer live without a bidet.
7. You only drink cappuccino for breakfast- not as an after-dinner drink.
8. Your kids sing the Italian National Anthem and not the Star Spangled Banner.
9. You order beer with your Happy Meal.
10. While riding the train to Pisa, Americans talk about you to your face because they think you are Italian.
11. You must have cool sunglasses.
12. You yell at your kids instead of explaining and offering choices.
13. You start having difficulty finding the right English word to express yourself.
14. There are Italian songs on your iPod
15. You no longer eat bread with your pasta

I could go on and on, but I have to prepare for the trip home and now that the kids' passports have arrived...I'm sure we'll be leaving.

Halo

She looks so sweet and innocent...she is a terminator child.
She terrorizes Jordan by taking his video games and hiding them under her bed.
She sneaks mascara and I find her fingerprints in my lipgloss.
She crashed into my big toe, ripping my toe nail off- just in time for summer sandals.
She calls her dad...and he comes running.
Today at the beach she was chasing boys in the water.
She changes her bathing suit five times a day, and must have a matching skirt for each bikini.
Today, she said, "Mommy, you are such a bad girl" when I took a sip of her water.
While driving in the car, she insists on turning the radio off and begs to listen to Katy Perry on my ipod.
We fight to put her hair in a pigtail..she prefers it down in hair-flip mode.
She's been wearing sandals that are two years old and that don't fit, because they have a butterfly on them.
After looking in the mirror and noticing a mosquito bite on her forehead, she came to me in tears and said, "I'm UGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGLLLLLLLLLY!!!!!"
Today, she dressed herself in Jordan's American Flag belt and proudly did the Miss Italy twirl and handwave.
She puts Brie in baby diapers and sings her lullabies.
When polishing her nails, each hand must be a different color.

I have no idea where she came from, I was a born tomboy- give me a ball and bat and show me the way to homeplate.
Give Sofia anything fuscia, shiny or frilly...and she will love you for life.

And THAT...is my girl.

Peace and NEVER Quiet

 

 

Well, the past two days at the ranch have been fairly calm, the nights- not really, but the days...perfect. One of the moms I've been helping through Pisa came to stay with us for a couple of days for some beach and Jordan.

Her daughter loved him!! Sofia was jealous but read her a bedtime story. And Brie enjoyed the attention, when she wasn't escaping.

I would like to give thanks for the calm that has begun settling in my life. I spent eleven years dedicating myself entirely to my "job" as mom. I spent the past two years trying to control the woman that suddenly surfaced. And now...now I'm mixing up the two and have finally found a healthy equilibrium. Not a bad feeling...

For DianRez...

 

Hi. I mentioned in the comment section of another post that I would have responded to Dianrez' blogpost: Enough with blogs about CI surgery! that I almost missed. K.L.'s response to this post generated an interesting and intelligent discussion.

The aspect of DianRez' post that I wanted to highlight was this:

Far more interesting is if they revealed who they are, what they are doing, their opinions, and their life-fulfilling experiences apart from their surgeries. In the case of parents writing about children, there is an emotional aspect that makes one uncomfortable to read about...because of the expense, time, emotional investment and parental uncertainity in them and leaves one wondering if they are missing something. Even at two or three years old, children are individual personalities with varied characteristics.

People, not scars!

I waited about five days and wrote three other blogposts to present the type of revelations that Dianrez requested. I found her post interesting and when she writes, I tend to listen because her perspective is that of a person who has lived her life as a Deaf woman, but who is genuinely curious as to the experiences lived by a new generation of deaf children who have access to sound by means of the cochlear implant. Her comments are always insightful and encouraging and have helped me on a personal level many times.

I will say this: people who blog write a personal diary of their experiences. Surgery, activation, anticipation, fear and uncertainty are all part of the cochlear implant experience. Posting the surgery may be a way of confronting the most terrifying part of choosing a ci for one's child. I believe that ci activation, more than a confirmation and exuberation that "Oh my God, my child hears!" is more of an affirmation- "Thank you God, the implant works"..after suffering through the operation to give your child the opportunity to hear.

Scars are not always visible and tangible, the cochlear implant blogs reflect this reality.

There are the parents just beginning...I received a text message from the mother of a newly diagnosed deaf baby who I spoke to for about forty minutes yesterday. She called me because she was living a difficult moment and needed to talk to someone. She wrote:
One of my biggest fears is that my child will not be able to live a normal life- find a job, get married. Am I ridiculous? Some moments my head is overwhelmed by these types of thoughts and I think I'm going crazy... (I sent her the picture of Jordan with the rose in his mouth and she calmed down)

It's useless to become indignant, pissed off or outraged at this mother's comment. This is the reality, this is a typical parental reaction. And so we must inform parents. If their child is a candidate for a cochlear implant, they need resources. They need to see the surgery and the activation.

*AND*

As Dianrez says...they need to see that our deaf kids are doing okay socially.

There are the parents who have reached an equilibrium...I'm getting there, so now I can tell our story through the words of Jordan.

The other night just before we went to sleep, he said, "Mom, my friend scares me."
I said, "Why?"
He replied, "Because she uses really bad language, wears too much make up and isn't nice to her parents."
I said, "She is growing. Little girls who become middle school students want to be older than they are so they start cursing and being disrespectful to their parents- obviously something you will never do...or you will be thrown out of the house."
He thought for a second..."Yeah, I guess that's true. She thinks she's older than she really is."

Jordan is immature for his age at times...then again, sometimes he is wise beyond his years.

 

Deaf- Through the Eyes of a Sister...

I've written a couple of posts about siblings before, but observing the sibling of another deaf child yesterday at an appointment in Pisa hit me in a totally different way. This was a family from Grosseto who contacted me requesting assistance in finding a speech therapist and I referred them to ours. Their child is four years old and was a preemie born with a congenital condition, who was diagnosed as being Deaf one year ago. He wears hearing aids when he isn't pulling them out of his ears and despite all of the problems associated with his condition, is full of life and so funny...

As are his mom and sister.

When we spoke by phone, I suggested they meet with the Professor in Pisa to have a second opinion regarding issues of ears, nose and throat as well as an opinion regarding the cochlear implant. We met at the train station and traveled to Pisa together. This was the first train ride for his sister and I have to say, she liked it, but wasn't too impressed. The mom, sister and brother played together during the entire train ride and they all fell asleep at the same time. I smiled a lot, played cars with them and watched them sleep.

Immediately upon our arrival, the Audiology equipe was ready for us, so the mom and brother entered to begin the exams and I took the sister to the bathroom.

When we returned, the sister joined her mom to watch as they tested her brother and I sat across from them on the other side of the room.

As the beeps arrived and her brother manifested no response, I saw the little girl's face crash. I could understand the mom's facial expression of anxiety, sadness and love having lived the situation in her shoes, but watching the little girl destroyed me. This 10 year old beautiful sister puts her brother's hearing aids in when he takes them out, catches his toys before they hit the ground, wipes his mouth when he drools and lets him pull her hair even though sometimes he pulls too hard.

As soon as the test ended, I called her over and sat her down next to me before she followed her Mom to the next exam. I said, "You have been with your mom when the other Audiologist tested your brother's hearing, haven't you?"
She said, "No."

*Merda*

I asked her mom if I could take her to see the Leaning Tower of Pisa while they finished testing her son, and she said okay.

I grabbed her and rushed her out of there. God, there is nothing as depressing as being in a hospital other than watching doctors test your brother's hearing and seeing no response. I said to her, "You know that your brother is deaf, that is why he wears hearing aids. The doctors do these exams to have an idea as to exactly what types of sounds he may possibly be able to hear. He doesn't have to 'pass' the test, he just needs to be himself. Please don't be sad or feel that your brother is missing something, he is perfect the way he is...And with the experience you have in helping him and loving him, maybe you will be the doctor assisting another child when you get older."

*She smiled* (Thank God)
So, off we went for a little Leaning Tower and two scoops of gelato.

The Wise Child and the Ignorant Man

I left this post on the Circle and wanted to share it here...

A week ago, while in a store waiting to take passport pix because of course my
kids' were expired and we're leaving in two weeks, an old man started talking to
me. I was concentrating on Jordan and Sofia who were getting into everything
they shouldn't be touching, so when the man asked me, "What's that thing on your
son's head?" I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly so I said, "I'm sorry, what
did you say?" And he asked, "What is that monstrosity on your son's head?"

*Breathe in, breathe out*

(It has been a long, long time since someone has asked me that question in such
an ignorant way. My last experience was through Val when she talked about the
haircutter.) I held back from smacking him, because that was my instant
reaction, took a deep breath and called Jordan over. I said, "Jordan, could you
please explain to this 'gentleman' what you have on your ear?" Jordan proceeded
with his "CI speech" by saying, "This is the processor of my cochlear implant. I
was born deaf and used to wear hearing aids. Now I can hear really well with my
cochlear implant." Jordan then walked away to destroy the store and the man
looked at me.
He said, "That's one great kid you have there.."
I replied, "Thank you, and extremely intelligent."
The man smiled and escaped from the store. (He's lucky he didn't get a kick in
the ass)

I'm writing this here because in the past two days, I received a photo from Ann
that showed Max explaining about the Cochlear Implant to his class at school.
Then, I read Val's Blog where she talks about how her kids talk to strangers in the elevator about how they can't hear when they go to the beach because they
can't wear their cochlear implant processors that help them hear. Yet, they
continue speaking even without the cis.

I would have never thought I'd see the day when my son would have been
independent enough to speak up for himself and to explain his deafness. It was a
constant struggle and I remember how just getting him to say his name was so
difficult for him. In the beginning, I gave that little speech to all of the
curious kidlings at the park, now finally Jordan can speak for himself.

So, to all of the new parents just starting on this journey, you will get there
too. We all reach different points at different times, but the shared
experiences are similar. You are doing everything you can to give your children
a voice, so that eventually-they will use it.

Hats off to all of you and Happy Father's Day to all the Dads...

 

Jordan's Bar Mitzvah: Lesson Number One

 

Well, off we went to Siena to meet with Rabbi Eli last Wednesday. Jordan insisted we take the train which is like an extra hour as opposed to the bus, but since he was willing to wake up at 6:30 am, and I actually prefer the train...done.

We arrived at the door of the synagogue at 9:25 am for our appointment: Bar Mitzvah lesson number one. Rabbi Eli opened the door, I was wearing a jacket over my sleeveless top because I got an evil eye the last time I showed up half naked at our appointment- note: it was like 95° and humid, but I was respectful this time. I do have to add this one particular- I have managed to find without a doubt the HOTTEST Rabbi in the world...young, interesting and straight from Jerusalem.

So, he asks us if we would like some coffee, we respectfully decline and take a seat. You have to understand that he is from Jerusalem and has been in Siena for eight months. He's married to an Italian woman (HOT!)and speaks Italian better than I did when I first got here, but with some difficulty nonetheless- his English is excellent. (I am sure God was watching over me for this one!) He began the lesson by asking Jordan what he knew about Judaism.

Jordan responded: "I know that 6 million Jews were killed in the Holocaust by the Nazis."
My jaw dropped. I remember once he brought home a fighter airplane that had a Swastika on it and I almost passed out. I then explained to him about the Holocaust, but I didn't think he remembered it.

Actually, since finding out about Jordan's deafness and starting the oral approach, abstract concepts were inconceivable to teach, I basically shut my religion out of my life. If we couldn't live it concretely by going to synagogue, spending the high holidays with family members or having him attend religious school, there was no way to make him understand certain aspects. I just always told him he was Jewish and tried to teach him morals and values that my family taught me.

So, when he began to have an intelligent conversation with the Rabbi, I sat back and evaluated my sensitive son. Every now and then the Rabbi would look at me and smile. They opened a prayer book and Jordan said the Shemah aloud..hmmm, got slightly teary eyed at that one.

Then, the Rabbi said, "Okay Jordan, let's take a tour of the synagogue."
I immediately threw a scarf over my sweater...the Rabbi laughed.
Jordan donned his kipa proudly, and in we walked.

We had been inside the synagogue the last time, but this time it was just the three of us. It isn't a very large synagogue, but it's intimate. The women sit on the left and the men on the right, in the middle is a sort of pulpit where the Rabbi speaks and front and center is the Arc. The Rabbi walked straight back to next to the Arc and took out a key. I started shaking.

I hadn't seen a Torah in twelve years. God, I'm getting teary-eyed thinking about that moment. There was my son, standing next to a Rabbi, who was opening the Arc to show him the Torah. When he opened the doors and I saw the silver, I had a flashback from when I was eight years old, bored to tears sitting through a Shabbat service. If there was one thing I waited for during those endless services, it was seeing the Rabbi take out the Torah. That...and the ginger ale drink with lemon sherbet at the kiddush. It was all about my grandfather and my family as I watched Jordan's first peek at the Torah.

I lost it. They both looked at me like I was crazy. I don't know why this is happening at this point in my life because I am already on the verge of a nervous breakdown, but it was just one more example of finding a part of me that I had lost or slammed the door on..I lost my religion, and found it again last Wednesday- with my son.

When they closed the Arc, they then proceeded to the pulpit where they read a prayer together that Jordan needs to learn for his Bar Mitzvah. I cried on. At a certain point the Rabbi said, "Okay Jordan have a look around and if you have any questions let me know."

So, Jordan began walking around, inspecting the wooden benches. At a certain point, he said, "Rabbi, you know, there are termites in these benches!"

*Mortified*

We took a coffee break, I spoke to the Rabbi and asked him a couple of deep questions about life as Jordan played with his PSP. He told me that a Rabbi was once asked to describe the entire Torah in one word.
I asked, "And what was his response?"
Rabbi Eli replied, "Peace."

Just then, Jordan walked outside and asked what was written on the blackboard. We went inside, the Rabbi erased what was written and wrote something else. He asked Jordan, "Do you know what this says?"
Jordan said, "No."
Rabbi Eli said, "This is your name, Jordan, written in Hebrew."