The motherload

I guess I was kid that dreamed of being a mom maybe because I grew up without one. But the truth be told between my dad, my godmother, my grandmother and my aunts and all my girlfriend's moms I had so many amazing role models I was set. I can not complain. I have made a decision this mother's day to focus all energy on these 4 humans I call my sons. Hell I carried them for 9 months (well approximately since Ben was premature, Sam was on time, Anthony was a little late and Jules was way late but you get it). They are what taught me about motherhood. Honestly most of it is crap! Now let me first state that breast cancer taught them a hard lesson and they really rose above it. They were robbed of an innocent part of their childhood but took it in and learned from it which I as their momma am so proud. They saw cancer through my eyes and from that know that everyone is fighting some sort of battle that they know nothing about in turn as taught them to be a little kinder. Now let's talk about what they taught me.

I remember when my siblings and cousins would have babies and I would hold those infants awwww so cute. They really are cute for a reason you know it makes it harder to lose it at first.  I was the ultimate babysitter, what a crock. Even becoming a nanny (that is another story they are really my first children). But being a mom teaches you so much. Like the fact from day one you can never ever go to the bathroom alone again, NEVER.  I have learned just how loud I can yell and actually how much patience I have. Really I do not spank but boy I have come close, I learn to walk away. That you lose all privacy even as a mom of 4 boys they see my space as their own little get away. There is no one in the house that can ever find anything even if it is in the room right there except mom. If there is ANY question being asked I mean even one like "is dad driving me to school?" only mom can answer that. Being a mom taught me that no matter what is needed it has to be given by mom if dad tries to do it he will fail even though he did it just like mom. I can not by any means ever leave the house even if it is for a walk around the block, they need to know when I will be back and will I be quick but dad can go out any time. Driving back from a 4 hour car trip my 13 year old asks as I am unloading the snack bag "Did you do the laundry?", see being a mom also taught me how to do laundry while driving a car 4 hours from one state to the next being nowhere near my washer and dryer!! Being a mom taught me that while I love them bedtime is the best part of the day. That silence is truly golden. Their laughter is fabulous but it usually means they are beating on each other and I will hear "MOOOOMMMMMM" very soon. Being a mom has taught me that Tom and I can never have a conversation without being interrupted with some dumb commented. Being a mom taught me that while I saw and felt that doctor cut the umbilical cord I know for a fact these kids are still attached to me. I have learned that a smack upside the head is ok and duct tape is a legal form of punishment.

So many people say to me "just wait until they are grown you will miss them" or the "they grow so fast". No not really. I think them growing up is fantastic. They are turning into these semi independent beings that want to explore the world, well not Ben he says he won't leave because who will cook or do his laundry for him (I got plans to alter that real soon!!). I want to watch them be kind and make good choices yet I know that wont always be true. The fact is they will screw up, they do now. Being a mom has taught me the hard part of motherhood is watching them do just that. They have to learn from their mistakes and me as their mom I want them to. I want them to own up to their bad choices and come out of them with their head held high and not do it again but that won't always happen.  I want them to be good I could careless if it is right for society as long as it is good for them. They have taught me that they will be the person they are and I have as their momma accepted that and I love them just like that, simply love their silly monkey butts. They may not be doctors or scientist they maybe clerks or push a broom but if they are happy then they win and as a mom so do I. Better yet if they move out I WIN. Cause ultimately that is my goal. See I embarrass the hell out of them so at 18 they move out, explore, see what life as to offer. So they take chances, make others happy, make themselves happy and so they just let me pee by myself.

I will always be their momma, mommy, MOMMMMMMMMMM. They will continue to teach me how to be a mom and I will always love them always. . They will grow up and screw up but they will I just know it do it with a kind heart otherwise I will use the strongest duct tape out there. They will hopefully find the loves of their life and unfortunately get their hearts broken (watch out cause I am from the Nort-side and full blooded Italian, just saying).  They will forever shine my tiara and I will forever embarrass them. They will forever and ever be my boys, who have changed Mother's day for me.

Lumpy-a-versary

There are all different dates people hold close to them during this stupid dumb cancer process. Some celebrate those dates, some have mild freak outs and some just let them pass. There ia much debate as to which date to "honor" (boy that sounds so friggin dumb I don't want to honor any of them). But needless to say when they pop up we find ourselves doing that. Well maybe not honor lets call it reflecting. For me the mastectomy date melts into all the other surgeries that followed, the day I was told "You have cancer" was a dream like state and all the rest plays out like a jumbled mess. But the day I found that every loving lump is embedded in my mind like a nightmare I can not ever shake. I had lumpy breast so finding a lump was typical but this was so insanely different.

It wasn't even so much as a regular self breast check nope it was my arm laying on my breast and I felt it. I remember thinking it was in my head. I called Tom who literally rolled his eyes because you see I found a lump all the time. I had these lumpy, dense breasts and had been getting mammograms for 10 years watching all sorts for cysts. But he played the game and felt it. When he pressed my breast to feel for it black sludge came out of my nipple his words "what the fuck is that?". Now if you know my husband he isn't a WTF guy, he's more laid back but seeing black sludge come out like a fountain on top of a real lump was a "WTF" moment. The day proceeded with me meeting my girlfriend MC at a breast cancer volunteer function where we through out the afternoon went into the bathroom to feel my breast and watch the sludge come out. I met a breast cancer survivor that day that had just finished her last radiation and I remember distinctly thinking how incredibly gorgeous she was. I needed that girl that day, who I will later met almost a year later and I will call her my pink sister. Her face got me through that May 5th 2012.

The day I found that lump was a Saturday which made for the longest weekend of my ever loving life. It took forever to get to Monday to 8:30 when my GYN office opened to when I heard Gia's voice. She immediately made a mammo/sono appointment for that afternoon. I went and kept thinking its nothing, could be anything, probably nothing but was whispering "you got cancer don't be a dumbass" the whole time. The office that did the mammo was one I went to all the time for all my previous mammos and sonograms and was really hoping my regular girl was there, it wasn't. For some reason this made me want to cry I really wanted her there. So the tech did the mammo where black, thick discharge oozed all over the machine "I don't see anything on the image" she said to me. Seriously cause the thing just exploded on the plexiglass!!  We went into the sono room where she took he wand went over the lump-"I can feel it when I go over it but nothing is coming up". Are you kidding??? So she checks the normal box and tells me to follow up in six months. Yes this really is what happened. I remember driving over to my GYN office thinking maybe I should believe her, but there was that whisper.

When I got there my doctor and his fabu staff took me in room and that was that. He decided that I was seeing a breast care doctor that a lump with black discharge was far from normal and that he wanted it looked at sooner than later. Have I ever said how much I love my GYN?? Have I ever said how much I love his staff??? How not only do I really believe that he got me into a doc fast that I believe he saved my life?? I am so beyond lucky to have a doctor that not only listened to my fears but knew that this was not normal.

Today is my "Cinco de Lumpo" the day that changed in my life forever. The day I found a real lump. The day my husband had a big WTF moment. The day I realized how important it is to advocate for yourself, to have doctor in your corner. The day that a self breast check showed me that it does work. The day that a mammo and sono failed me. The day that being a breast cancer survivor meant more than wearing a pink ribbon.  The day that began the most surreal summer of my life. The day that tilted my tiara ......just a little.  

We both were wondering what was in my stupid dumb breast but at the same time we knew...

MRI means scananiexty

Tomorrow I have the pleasure (sarcasm) of having my yearly MRI, yes I get a yearly MRI. Everyone keeps asking me why. At first I was all defensive and was ready to get on attack then my breastie Lisa wrote a post about how she feels just about this fact. I realized that most people were not judging why I had one but were jealous (not in a bad way but in a I am so scared I wish I had one too way). They wanted any scan to see that the beast was gone but most doctors do not do this.  Although I know my breastie downstate Annemarie is having one too this week, she has to do whatever I do! Having a scan never guarantees anything but for a moment after the freak out or course, it does let us breath a sigh of relief. It lets us feel like we are NED for awhile, No Evidence of Disease. Saying cancer free indicates we are free, reality is we are never free of cancer. Trust me we are always reminded.

I had my lumpectomy June 2012 and then my first MRI following that. I remember that day all too well. I was nervous but I really thought the lumpectomy got everything so I was doing ok. Except for the fact that the contrast really messes with equilibrium, MC actually caught me a few times. I remember joking with the techs and laughing thinking all was fine. Then we went back into the room with the radiologist and he showed us the MRI.  There were my breasts, those stupid dumb bitches. The right still filled with cancer the left a "probable benign spot"-serious who makes these words up that is ridiculous. MC was asking all these technical questions, I just sat and stared at the screen. It was all lite up in pretty colors letting me think it was a sparkly beauty but really it was in there trying to kill me. The lumpectomy did not work, I needed a mastectomy.  And make it a double I did not want that probable spot coming back with a kick.

I  had the mastectomy in July 2012 then in April 2013 I found a lump, a skittle if you would. In the exact spot that the original cancer. Mild freak out happened but I did my best to remain calm. My breast care doctor took me that day and she removed it in office, it really was just a skittle! No really just a cyst but how I had a mastectomy? Guess that 1% of breast tissue that was still there. I had an MRI soon after my first yearly and I was clear for take off. Then the DIEP this past December 2013 and my plastics took 2 swollen lymph nodes out from the left side the "probable benign" spot. His words as he has me completely cut open everywhere "I thought FUCK if this is cancer and I can not do her recon she will kill me" came back "unremarkable" another dumbass word. I mean really give me something better than that.

ALL that being said when it is up for a scan there is no wonder I get a little freaked. You see cancer is not cut and dry there are always many variables and everyone's process is so different. I have a feeling that I will be ok but come on cancer has a mind of its own so I am scared to jinx it at the same time. Almost like if I get to cocky it will come back and say "Didn't see that coming did you" so I want to be prepared, but not too prepared.  I had someone say to me "oh I had a mammogram the other day I was fine you have nothing to worry about" I get they were making me feel better after a cancer DX a scan just isn't that simple. You get this pit in your stomach like when you are starving but then you go on a roller coaster after eating Christmas dinner. That is how you feel. Then your head jumps in and starts playing these mind games. You want to stay positive but then you have this pain under your arm right were they took nodes out and what if..... But you can not live in that what if world but how do you get out of it??

Plus I see the look on my four boys faces just now as I Sam asked if tomorrow was scan day and I said yes. We went from a simple family game of Uno to 4 boys with turned down smiles thinking what if? They get that it is all different now that that cancer made its appearance once and we didn't see it coming now we don't want a surprise. I refuse to tell them it will be ok because last time I did that I came back a liar. I simply said "positive energy right?" to which Julian replied " good you will be mother" in his best Yoda voice. Nothing like a little Star Wars to break the tension.

So tomorrow they will inject me with contrast, I will get all wonky and MC will steady me out. I will hold my breath until my follow up appointment. OHHHHHHH yeah that appointment is on the day I found my lump. is that a good sign or a bad omen?? I am going with good cause you know what they say....Oh I don't know what the hell they say but I am going with the good! Now hold my tiara while I get my MRI.

Shoes, attitude shoes

Stilettos before a mastectomy, please?! Some very rude woman sent me a private message saying "You are dumb to worry about shoes you should worry about cancer".  Yet she never asked me why I did. Just made some judgmental comment knowing absolutely nothing about me and my reasons. And it dawned on me had I ever explained why, mind you I do not need to but I think maybe just to be a nice pink princess I will. The reality is we are so quick to judge how someone handles a situation when it its how we would we do not think that maybe they needed it to be that way. Maybe just maybe those stilettos helped, well yes they did!

Glinda the Good Witch- “You had the power all long”

I will start with the pink sparkly ones that I strutted into my mastectomy with. I am all of 4 feet 11 inches and have no choice but to wear heels. If I do not I am a midget, no really I am a legal one in some states. My BFF is significantly taller than I so whenever we are together I make sure I wear heels. Her daughter has forever loved to come over and find her way to my closet and try on my shoes. There was a time when my shoes were too big for her since then I have taken her hand me downs gladly! What is it about putting on a pair of stilettos that makes you feel so WOW?? I saw it every time Riley would rock my shoes, but I would feel it when I put them on. Something comes over you. When I wear heels I feel strong, powerful and full of attitude. Riley saw these shoes and decided I needed them for my surgery. How brilliant is this child at 12?? After a pedi (yes before my surgeries I always get a pedi) I opened the box. I looked at Riley and Nikki and  said "I am wearing these into surgery. Cancer can take a lot but not my sparkle.". They both squealed with delight because they were hoping I would say that. These shoes gave me attitude and I wanted as much attitude as I could get.

Don't reject a shoe because you can't run in it. It's OK not to run.

Christian Louboutin

I think about how when you go for your prom dress, wedding gown or any party attire when you try on the shoes they make the outfit because they give it the attitude. Now let's admit that hospital gown needs some bling for sure. The shoes with that gown changed the mood. Everyone would walk in and stop and SMILE. I was dubbed "the Diva in heels" and I was completely fine with that. They all wanted to see if I could walk in them which cracked me up and kept me laughing which is the best medicine. Now I am not saying this was a light subject no way was a mastectomy, swap, hysterectomy, and DIEP easy or light. But I needed to be calm and laughing, smiling and having power was how I was going to handle it. This was the way I choose to deal with my process, this is after all my story of stupid dumb breast cancer not yours, isn't it? So why really does anyone care if I wear heels, if someone sings and dances, if someone cries or if someone silently goes down to surgery? We are all so different I do not expect anyone to fill my shoes must least wear them!

Strong women wear their pain like stilettos. No matter how much it hurts, all you see is the beauty of it.

Sometimes those stilettos sat at the end of the bed because I physically could not put them on. The pain, the medication, the surgery were all taking over. But they were never far from reach always there to remind me that there was strength in a shoe, in me. The pink ribbon is fine for some but a stiletto now that is power. See sometimes I didn't wear them I just needed to see them to make me see that I could still sparkle with power and all the attitude I needed to over come the beast that lurked inside of me! I wanted to be reminded that somehow I was going to still be able to walk in those again even if at that moment I could not.

“A woman and her shoes… it’s a beautiful thing.”

I did however send a pair of shoes to two of my sweet darling friends who were in their teens. Jackie who battled cancer and called them here chemo heels and guess what they did for her?? They made her SMILE!!! She even wore them to prom. Did they stop her chemo for making her ill or make it less scary? No way but for a moment they brought her just the smile she needed.  The other darling was my ray of sunshine Lola, who has taken wings. Lola could not walk in the heels she was too weak but they still made her laugh and bright a glimmer of life to her that day. Those crazy ass heels did not cure Lola's cancer they did not stop it from spreading but they made her laugh, loud and carefree. Her mother was grateful for those heels that day when Lola played in that beautiful moment.  For those moments a pair of shoes have become a beautiful thing at a dark time.  

“You put high heels on and you change.”- Manolo Blahnik

When I wore those sparkly pink stilettoes I felt powerful like there was no stopping me. I wanted them on my feet hours after surgery which gave the nurses and my father a mild heart attack. My father actually cut off my blood flow because he was scared to let go of me, shhhhh do not tell him but if he did I would have let go I would have fallen. Here is a secret even though I put those heels on and walked to the door to prove that I could I needed my daddy to hold me. Which was ok, it was better than ok. It was what we both needed at that point. I felt strong and he felt needed. See cancer doesn't just effect the person who has it but it effects every person that loves them and I have this big ass ever loving family. They needed those shoes just as much as I did. The stilettos gave them something to think about, focus on, laugh at and bitch about. To see me wearing them reminded them that I was still their princess and I was going to pull through this stupid dumb breast cancer.  Yes a changed version but sparkly tiara wearing me.

Give a girl the right shoes, and she can conquer the world.

Marilyn Monroe

So next time you judge someone for wearing stilettos to their mastectomy, chemo or grocery story shut your friggin mouth! How someone deals with their  life is about them and has nothing to do with you. Maybe just smile and clap your hands as they go by. Only a true princess can wear 6 inch stilettos and never once let her tiara tip.

Gallery Block

These are example images. Double-click here to replace these images with your own content. Learn more

Cursus Amet

Sed purus sem, scelerisque ac rhoncus eget, porttitor nec odio. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.

Pellentesque Risus Ridiculus

Vivamus pellentesque vitae neque at vestibulum. Donec efficitur mollis dui vel pharetra.

Porta

Praesent id libero id metus varius consectetur ac eget diam. Nulla felis nunc, consequat laoreet lacus id.

Etiam Ultricies

Donec id justo non metus auctor commodo ut quis enim. Mauris fringilla dolor vel condimentum imperdiet.

Vulputate Commodo Ligula

Commodo cursus magna, vel scelerisque nisl consectetur et. Donec id elit non mi porta gravida at eget metus.

Elit Condimentum

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Vestibulum id ligula porta felis euismod semper.

Aenean eu leo Quam

Quisque iaculis facilisis lacinia. Mauris euismod pellentesque tellus sit amet mollis.

Cursus Amet

Sed purus sem, scelerisque ac rhoncus eget, porttitor nec odio. Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet.

Pellentesque Risus Ridiculus

Vivamus pellentesque vitae neque at vestibulum. Donec efficitur mollis dui vel pharetra.

Porta

Praesent id libero id metus varius consectetur ac eget diam. Nulla felis nunc, consequat laoreet lacus id.

Etiam Ultricies

Donec id justo non metus auctor commodo ut quis enim. Mauris fringilla dolor vel condimentum imperdiet.

Vulputate Commodo Ligula

Commodo cursus magna, vel scelerisque nisl consectetur et. Donec id elit non mi porta gravida at eget metus.

Guilt

I was raised Catholic, I am reformed now but the guilt doesn't go away. You know that Catholic guilt or maybe you know the Jewish guilt let's call it religious guilt as to not offend. The type where you feel guilty before you even do something wrong. Damn sins! You have to explain yourself because you feel so bad about whatever the issue is. You are basically guilted into doing something because you have to not because you want to. Most of this guilt is in your head but majority was infected on you by Sister Mary Theresa Josephina while you clapped erasers outside the rectory. I am also full blooded Italian which adds a layer of guilt as well. I know there is Irish guilt but I am not even an ounce of Irish so don't start. Italian guilt is feeling bad that you only made baked ziti, roasted vegetables, meatballs, minestrone soup, chicken cutlets and salad for Sunday dinner and never  did get the cookies made you said you would plus you used rigatonis instead of ziti in the baked ziti! What is screwed up here is your family adds to your guilt by their little comments. Guilt sucks!

Then there is survivor's guilt. I have lived through all the above and I can laugh that  off but this is no joke. I want so desperately to be happy that am approaching with caution my 2 year mark. I want to smile and whisper "I kicked cancer's stupid dumb ass" (I don't want to yell it I may jinx it). But I am so scared. How did I dodge that bullet??? Why do I deserve to live?? I sure have had my share of "karma's coming for me" moments. So I would get it if I was faced with some of the serious treatments my cancer family is. I am not any better than anyone else who has taken wings. My very good friend is embarking on a reoccurrence while I just have to go to Target today, I feel so guilty sitting there across from her. The fact that my  breastie was told that with everything else she has to deal with Stage IV being top of the list now she has lymphedema to deal with when, I feel guilty that I dodged the bullet when she got the cannon.  Even when my very bestest friend who I grew up with got breast cancer a few months ago I felt guilty. I didn't want her to go through this at all I wanted to take it from her and I would have if I could.  Maybe part if the guilt is because we have seen so much we know what is going to happen. I am so mad that my friend went through chemo that wrecked her body only to be told it didn't work and the cancer is back, I feel guilty that I am here doing ok. How is it her, them and not me?? I feel bad, which seems dumb to say but I think you get it, right? It is more than just those three words.

Then the whammy  of survivor guilt the one that makes me cry so hard, guilt that makes my head hurt and wakes me up at night. It happens when I think of my sweet Jenny, when Jen died, my beautiful Kim, Cindy, Olga, Lola and Talia, and Nancy and oh how I miss you my Marian. So many others so many. Why I am I here typing away while you are all flying high? How is that fair?? It isn't! I do not want the "everything happens for a reason bullshit". Shit happens, good and bad, sometimes for no reason I believe that. FUCK CANCER!

I want to be happy to be alive yet I feel so sad that my friends are in real pain. Pain that I not only understand but that can literally be me-I get them. At the next appointment, that could be me. I am guilty to be grateful for now it is not me but I know that could change in a blink. I am happy that I am at this point but guilty that I am happy. Then I am sad that I am losing so many friends and I feel guilty that I am still here. I mad that my friends are living with cancer and they will never be cancer free then the guilt sets in that as if now I am. I am exhausted from this today.

Let me tell you this. Being this guilty is very, very difficult when you want to keep your tiara on!!

Could it be eyelash cancer?

So my eyelash is really bad, I mean BAD! It has been bugging me for awhile now and I am just so scared to address it. It is significantly longer than the rest and rather misshapen. I feel like it is causing my eye pain and its so itchy. I asked Tom to please look at it, he blew in it and said it was just dust. UGH no it isn't. I swear there is something more. I know it is eyelash cancer, I just know it. OMG what if they have to take all the lashes, I have great lashes. ANOTHER surgery, chemo?? How do they do radiation on your eyelashes?? Will I go blind? Will I be able to drive?  Although I do hear that eyelash cancer is the easiest or is it the hardest I forget.  For the 100x I ask him to please look again. He freaks and tells me it must come out "NOW" and pulls it, the ass.

Told ya it was bad

While the above it a joke the reality is in there. After the friends leave with their casserole dishes, the family goes home with their mops and you try to find a "new normal" you have a certain paranoia over head. Like you are standing under the ball at Times Square on New Year's waiting for it to drop, ON YOU. You feel every ache different than before, every mark on your body is some sort of made up or real cancer and you have to find a way to balance being that crazy cupcake cancer person to being a responsible healthy chick. The truth is we do not know if cancer will come back and I will tell you that living in this world I see it too much but I do not want every ache to be eyelash cancer. Yet at the same time between the doctor appointments, blood work, scans and aches how do we not?? Is there really a balance??  I know for a fact that a headache is just a headache and sometimes means nothing. I know that sometimes i just have a back ache. I know that sometimes it is just scar tissue buildup and not a lump. I know that sometimes it is my lymphedema acting up. I know that sometimes it is just my husband leaving all the cupboards open just to make me think I am going nuts. But sometimes I think the cancer has spread to my brain, that it is in my bones or back in my breast or that I have lost my mind (shut it I know I still have a brain I had an MRI!!). Having cancer isn't like having the flu and being stuck in bed for a few weeks and regaining strength to recover. It is mind altering, body changing, life threatening.  It shakes and rattles you and not in a rock n' roll way. You have to find a way to push these new fears aside live this life you have. How do we do that to live through our fears??? I guess the only way to do that is to put life in our life. So screw the cupcake cancer (no joke my breastie may have this so don't laugh, ahahah), the eyelash cancer can bite me, the toenail cancer can have my sweaty feet I am going to get on my life on. Right after my doctor appointment next week and I wait for the results after that OY VEY!!

FYI-I just know that I am doing everything I can to keep tiara cancer at bay, just saying!

www.stupiddumbbreastcancer.com A new Chapter!!

I never thought this blog would get as much traffic as it has. I never thought it would be worldwide. I never thought anyone would read it other than my family. But it has!!

Stupid dumb breast cancer

has evolved!! And now thanks to my awesome cousin I have new website. Everything is there and it is amazaboobs. So as much as blogger has been fun it is now time to open the next chapter.

http://www.stupiddumbbreastcancer.com/

 is where its at, check it! I am proud and honored to have this next step and even happier I did it with my cousin Michelle Giannino. Do not worry the tiara is still shinning!

i wuv u birfday boy

It is not perfect love but its our love. Grammar mistakes, annoying kids, cupboards open, recycling over flowing, loud ass Italian family, stupid dumb breast cancer LOVE. Happy birthday professor, I am forever your princess.....


"That's Amore"

(In Napoli where love is king
When boy meets girl here's what they say)

When the moon hits you eye like a big pizza pie
That's amore
When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine
That's amore
Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling
And you'll sing "Vita bella"
Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay
Like a gay tarantella

When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool
That's amore
When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet
You're in love
When you walk down in a dream but you know you're not
Dreaming signore
Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli
That's amore

(When the moon hits you eye like a big pizza pie
That's amore
When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine
That's amore
Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling
And you'll sing "Vita bella"
Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay
Like a gay tarantella

When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool)
That's amore
(When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet
You're in love
When you walk down in a dream but you know you're not
Dreaming signore
Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli)
That's amore
Lucky fella

When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool)
That's amore
(When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet
You're in love
When you walk down in a dream but you know you're not
Dreaming signore
Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli)
That's amore, (amore)
That's amore

Man of Steel and tears turns 70-something

swag in the dictionary

You know when you were a kid and you complained that your parents drove you nuts. Always yelling and telling you what to do?? Yeah I never had that issue. I had the cool dad, like he was the definition of swag. Some can say that my dad was a bad parent because he was our friend, our shopping buddy (seriously the dude can shop still to this day!!), he had the house we hung out at because he turned looked the other way, our dancing dad-the man can move or maybe because he just wasn’t like them. When my dad was born he mother did not really want another kid much less a boy, true story she even told me that. With this over his head he set out to be the rebel in the family. He wore his hair slicked, peg jeans and rove fast cars. Where his siblings were responsible, college bond people my dad was drag racing! So that alone set him apart from anyone. I think the other parents were jealous of his badass ways, our friends all agreed we had the coolest, slickest dad evah.

Mr. and Mrs. Giannino

He met my mother and that was that head over heels, love everlasting, true love. That only ended with heart break when in 1973. Just when this young man name Al and his wife Judy and three children Albie 10, Lori-Ann 9 and Ann Marie the princess 1 should have been a regular suburban family my mother, his wife was stolen from him. That being the life he was dealt it was then my father’s job to be the dad, the mom and find some sort of way to heal is broken heart while raising this family. Yes, his friends and family jumped together to help but when they left, the kids were in bed and the house was quiet he would cry.  Do not judge my father for crying over the loss of his ideal life that was ripped from him. Men can cry and be strong.  It was his release he did that so could let the pain out. He then did what any, no that isn’t true at all-that is again why he is different. He did what he believed the only thing was to do and that was to love us unconditionally by himself with no one else to parent with him. He did not remarry when we were young not because of lack of girls, my pops is a stud! But because not only could he think of “replacing” Judy but he would never try to bring a mother to us that wasn’t our momma. My father amongst all things good and bad is the most selfless father around that would never make him a bad parent it makes him the best father ever. All he knew was how to be him and that meant pure, real love and yes being our friend was part of that. No matter how many crashed cars, boyfriends chased out of the house, divorces, marijuana smoked, drunken nights, sneaking out of the house or fists fights (my brother was a mess, see I can say that cause he never reads this!) he loved us and supported us the best way he could, his way.

The most important people in his life

The one thing my father is for sure is an emotional man (my sister gets that from him hands down two of the biggest criers I know). I do not think the man will ever stop crying, he has way to much love to give-those tears are mostly love and happiness now. I know that more than anything he loves me the princess daughter, my emotional basket case sister, my obnoxious brother, the prodigal-runner grandchild, the stunningly-smart granddaughter, the semi-princess always gets her way granddaughter, the intensely high anxiety grandson, the fabulous fun granddaughter, the sports man smiling grandson, the wiseass grinning grandson and the snuggling eye spy grandson with all he has every last bit he has in him. I also know that he has come to realize that he may still love Judy with his heart but in that heart is a space for his compassionate, caring loving fiancé. You see my father’s greatest birthday gift is waking up next to Deb who through all his heart ache and tears, dancing and shopping she loves him and this crazy group we call family! Truly making him the luckiest birthday Pa around.

See that smile?? That is happy

  Happy birthday to the most emotionally strong, big ass baby, selfless man, taxi driver, awesome grandfather, clothes hoarder, dancing king, loving father that were to ever walk the earth! I love you even though you call me 100 times a day asking me the same thing over and over and send texts that take me days to decipher. You are my daddy and I will always be your princess and biggest fan. Thanks for always keeping my tiara shinny…

My king