wo-MAN

Sometimes I feel like we're hillbillies.
See, while where I live there's a ton of culture, art history, traditions, etc....if your Aunt's a dyke in a small Italian town, nobody really talks about it.
In my family, we are black and white about our lives. We are what we are. We live how we live and we love.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, teaching Jordan about abstract concepts was extremely difficult. It took time for him to understand the concrete, forget about the abstract.
I've blogged about his Bar Mitzvah, and how we tried to teach him about religion despite the language difficulties. I've blogged about many things, including the fact that my sister is a dyke.

Now, here's the latest.
We are currently in the USA spending time with family. Niki came to visit us, while we were with my mom.
At a certain point of a conversation, Sofia looks at my sister and says, "Aunt Niki you are a wo-MAN."
Aunt Niki laughed. Jordan laughed.
Sofia as we know is extremely manipulative. She knows how to get what she wants from every single person she knows except for Aunt Niki. Apparently she was studying Niki, to figure out the best approach. She still hadn't figured it out when Niki left.

We were in the car with my Dad and my Dad asked how Aunt Niki was -Sofia said, "Aunt Niki doesn't brush under her armpits." My dad said, "I know."
Sofia said, "Aunt Niki has girlfriends."
Jordan said, "I know."

Niki took Jordan to see Harry Potter and they had an amazing time.
We all went to the nursing home to visit my Gram. There we were playing the "Gram, what's my name" game. My grandmother's dementia has gotten worse, so we lighten the situation by asking her to guess our names and we give clues.

Jordan took control of the situation and tried encouraging Gram to remember us. When he told Gram to look in Niki's direction, he said, "Gram, look at her, who's that? Look at her eyes."

Look at her eyes.
Not only do I have the most amazing sister, who lives her life her way and educates others...but I have kids who get it...hillbillies my ass.

Lightning Bugs and Buttercream Icing

I remember running around in cutoff jeans shorts with my sister under the Weeping Willow tree on Nemo Road, catching lightning bugs. We used to grab a glass jar, poke holes in the lid and fill that jar with those crawling bugs.

Now, Sofia runs through the yard, collecting as many as she can hold in her little hand and I have to fight with her not to bring them in the house to give to my mom.

I'm sitting in my air-conditioned bedroom typing on my mom's laptop as Jordan fights some Playstation battle next to me. I wear a scarf to bed, and my mom looks at me in horror, but I just can't get used to the air-conditioning, there is no ac in my house in Italy.

I'm catching up on things like Snap Boogie and Anna Graceman, amber alerts and the outrageous prices of everything since the last time we were here.

As I stood in line waiting for my chocolate snowball, I heard the Michael Buble song "Home" for the first time while "at home". Strange sensation.

In any case, we're relaxing. For the first time, in a very, very long time, I feel relaxed. And I feel like the only people who need me are in this house with me.
Home sweet home...

The Most Exciting Thing Since Nutella: Check Out the Blue Hearing Aids!

Modern Roman Warriors

When I started blogging on Deafread, I was permitted to enter through a crack in the window, despite hesitation on behalf of the Deaf Community. I only wanted to share our story, and learn through your stories.
I could understand the reluctance of a community to let an outsider in, especially an outsider who was hearing. Just like you read my story, I read yours.
Since the huge debate regarding passing Italian Sign Language as a language has begun, I have been "Pro" as long as the language does not take rights away from those Deaf individuals who choose not to use LIS. I have shared stories of families with children with cochlear implants, who use Total Communication to provide information regarding the right to choose, and that that right must be respected.
Because...I have read your stories.
Because...you cracked the window.

A couple of months ago I became facebook friends with a friend of friends. I think I clicked the friendship- he had a good smile. We had a couple of exchanges over photos and I invited him to the Italian forum I administer. To my surprise he began commenting and posting articles related to Deafness. I wondered how the group would react. I felt kind of strange and invaded, I knew he had no direct involvement with Deaf. Then, one of the members of the forum reacted not nicely to one of his posts.

See, in that instant, or you choose to close the door, or you choose to open the window just a little more to provide a little more knowledge. He obviously wanted to learn and was curious. My group felt violated. He asked, "What can I do to help you?"

That is a double-edged question if you have not reached a point where you are comfortable asking for help. I have no problem with it. I replied, "I need a politician to help us pass Newborn Hearing Screening at a national level".
He answered, "I can help you."

He just happened to be a leader of a political party for the region of Lazio, where they have had tremendous difficulty passing the screening at a regional level, mostly due to the wrong politician at the wrong time. He asked me for information to write a note to the Regional Council to propose the screening.

I contacted two parent associations in Rome, a leading state of the screening researcher in Italy and our Fimp Audiology Network representative for Lazio. We collaborated to write the note that I then sent to the politician.

He modified it and presented it to various political parties in Lazio, and I just received an email from him stating that the Regional Council has agreed to consider the motion to refinance the project.

Unbelievable.

Your Chocolate in My Peanut Butter

Sometimes nothing and everything happen simultaneously.
So, you can choose to react to either nothing or to everything.
Or, you can smile, and keep living.
You can sit on a lounge chair by a swimming pool situated in the Tuscan countryside as your daughter happily splashes around with her friends.
You can take your son to see a film, just the two of you.
You can spend your only night free home alone all by yourself and realize that that nothing and everything touches a part of you...but not all of you.
Because sooner or later you realize that it is impossible to have everything if nothing is missing.

8 Years Old

Yesterday, Sofia had a class with an Italian voice-dubberer. In Italy all of the American/Foreign actors' and actresses' voices are dubbed over by Italians. This man has a long history of films like "Kramer vs. Kramer", "The Shining", etc. He dubs Millhouse of "The Simpsons". There was a one hour meet-the-guy session, and he was extremely interesting and down-to-earth. He took questions from the audience, and just when he was about to finish, I glanced to the right and saw Sofia's hand shoot up.
I stopped breathing.
Sofia is in the I-never-know-what-is-going-to-come-out-of-her-mouth phase.
Davide Lepore smiled and said, "Yes, little girl, what is your name?"
Sofia replied, "Sofia."
Then, (45 seconds of non-breathing) she asked, "What do you FEEL when you act?"
He replied, "Free, I feel free."
Sofia smiled.
I smiled.
Everyone smiled.
And I began breathing once again.

Who knows what flits around her head. Who knows what she's thinking at any given moment at any given time.

I love not knowing, and always being surprised. In the good and the nasty.

She can be conniving, she sleeps in a swimcap and she clicks around the house in heels. And she is mine.

When I watch her breathe as she sleeps, and reach over to steal kisses on her cheeks, I wish for miraculous moments for her future. And as I observe my little girl, who can sometimes be anxious, and other times fearless, I see myself.

I kind of remember being 8 years old. My teacher was Ms. Abramowitz, and I kissed Keith Friedman on the cheek at the lunch table, which got me sent directly to the punishment table. Other than that, and endless renditions of "One"! with Hallie and Amy, I was pretty calm.

I do remember having a crush on Speedracer and believing in love.
Some things never change.

Sophomore

Jordan had an assignment to complete.
He chose not to complete the assignment.
His support teacher got angry, considering she's been helping him the entire year.
He let her down.
They called me from school yesterday, three times.
I spoke to Jordan, and he told me he didn't care, he wasn't going to do it.
I had two meeting yesterday that I had to attend, so I called Luca.
Luca said not to worry, he'd take care of it.
So, they went and got the materials needed- Jordan had to complete 10 technical drawings.
Jordan completed two of the ten. He said he had no idea how to do the rest.
I picked him up from Luca's and took him home.
For the rest of the night, he pleaded with me to call his support teacher to explain to her...something.
I said NO.
He tried in every possible way to convince me.
I said, "NO. I help you when I see that you really commit to what needs to be done. You knew about the assignment and CHOSE not to complete it. You're on your own."
He went to school this morning.
His support teacher wasn't there.
His Technical teacher wasn't there.
He decided to ask a woman for assistance, who told him where the teacher's locker was located.
He deposited his completed work in the locker.
I picked him up from school, and when he got in the car he smiled.
He said, "Mom, I handled it."
Bring on the summer!
USA...here we come:-)