Half Irish - Half Italian - All love

 I grew up in a mixed household. Yes, I am a half breed. Half Irish - half Italian. Proud to say second generation in this country.

But back when my parents got married, crossing the nationality lines was one of the things you where not suppose to do. And in the Boston area, mixing Irish into Italian bloodlines was…. Well…. a mortal sin that could cause the sky to fall and set off the apocalypse. But Dad was a bit of a hoodlum and fell for an Irish Miss from the ’wrong side of town’.

Now, normally that back then could set off an ex-communication from the family. But if they did that, they would have had to cut off some of his nine sisters as well. They looked at my Mom and figured they would grant permission because:

1. at least she talked ‘normal’, not like the guy my Aunt married. ( damn Irish Brogue !)
2. She wasn’t … (gasp!)… POLISH like that big eared guy one of the other sisters married.
3. She wasn’t already related . ( yes one married a cousin….had to get permission from the Pope for that one - BUT he WAS Italian so… hey)
4. She WAS Catholic. That is a plus!
5. Everyone knew their youngest son was bullheaded, stubborn, and a “hoodlum” anyway.
6.  She was what is called ‘Black Irish’ Dark hair, dark eyes, and could pass off as Italian. Heck, she looked more Italian than their green eyed son.
7. Most Important....Irish are known breeders. OK, the bloodline may be ‘tainted’ but out of 11 kids my grandparents only had 2 sons, the oldest son was not breeding many, so we got to keep the name going somehow.

Now if they can just get her to stay quiet about the Irish part, things would be good.

Well Mom did good on never speaking with a brogue, went to church, even dyed her hair darker to increase the appearance of looking Italian. And she cooked spaghetti once a week and could make the meanest antipasto around. But when it came to the breeding end….. Well she told us kids that never happened.

They had three children … myself the oldest, then five years later my sister, then five years after that my brother. Two girls and a boy and it ’only’ took them 11 years to have the first one and 21years to complete the litter. We were all ‘gifts from God’ , not sex, immaculate conception was the way we came to be, just ask her and she would tell you so. Wish she did…. Often…once we reached the teen years. That was her infamous ‘Birds and the Bees’ talk. “If God wants you to have kids, he will give you kids, and you don’t have to have sex….we didn’t”

Now if she told us that a young kids, we may have bought it. But as teens the theory just didn’t wash. As she came to realize we have figured out what actually ‘caused’ kids, the story shifted to “ We only had sex three times, hence the three of you.”

Now considering Mom was 31 when she had me and 41 when she finally produced the “prince” son, that put her pushing 50 when the ‘birds and the bees’ talks started. And it also meant at my age she had a 10 year old to deal with.

I look back now, and think no wonder when she started forgetting things, acting a little odd we didn’t catch it. Having to deal with three kids, the pressure to produce the crowned prince to carry on the family name, and having us all so late in life would cause any woman who wanted to have kids early a little nutty. And no, the three of us where not angels by any means. But what we missed was the onset of Alzheimer’s.

I was finally told about the confirmation of the disease , for some reason, the rest of the family didn’t want to ‘worry’ me, and living so far away, they could hide it for a while.

I was able to visit and say my ‘Goodbyes’ before she totally forgot me. Well she knew me, was just a little shocked to see me around again.

The good thing is she never lost her memory of my Dad, and loved having him beside her. They shared a special kind of love that knew no boundaries. Certainly not one of nationalities. And my grandparents saw it.

My mother passed away in 2005 a few days after their 57th Anniversary. She is thought of daily, missed always, but she is still with us. All of us have had strange things happen that we swear is “Mom” …Heck, she said she would haunt us and we believe her … why wouldn't we? We are immaculate conception children.

I miss you Mom…. 111

Party On .. Just don't forget your ....

Boobs. Ok .. Now someone please tell me just how does a lady forget her boobs?


The year - 2009. The season - Christmas - you know, the one to be Jolly? Well, Christmas at my house always involves approximately three parties. Why the three separate events is another story, but lets just say some people you just don’t want to mix.

Anyway, this past Christmas at the family gathering, my sister-in-law shows up like she always does, dressed to the nines. She recently lost a lot of weight, ( again) and looked wonderful. But in losing weight, as every woman who has lost a few pounds knows, the boobs go first. It is like “What? You don’t think we want the extra ‘weight’ there? Take it away from the flabby tummy, the big butt, the thunder thighs, but for goodness sake, leave the boobs!” But no, God has a sense of humor, so yep, there goes the boobs.

Anyway, since she lost the weight, and the boobs, she decided to get a set to wear. Gel filled falsies she could tuck inside the bra to let everyone know she is woman. And she is proud of them too….at least twice reaching in and pulling one out to show people. Hey, what kind of family would we be if we didn’t want to see her falsies?

After the family fun and games, Sister in law and Brother in law were doomed to spend the night at our place, since driving home after a bottle of Brandy was just not happening. We pointed happy couple ( and yes they where happy) in the direction of our spare room and off the they tottled.

The next morning after several cups of coffee and breakfast, we pointed the now not so happy but more like hung-over couple towards the front door, asking the infamous question, “Do you have EVERTHING?” ‘Yeah, Yeah… we got everything” …

No they did not. They lie.

A week later, I went into the spare room and noticed laying on the bookshelf was a bra. Hmmm…. I checked …yep, got mine on. In picking up the brassiere, I discovered under it two boobs….staring at me.

Calmly I walked out to the living room and asked Steve, “ do you want to call your sister or should I? I just found her boobs, she left them here.”

Steve looked ….blinked…then asked, “How in the hell does a woman forget her boobs?”

“ Honey, this is your sister we are talking about “

“OK…point made…. Your turn to call… I called on the underwear deal a couple of years ago….….
Just be sure to tell her I have been using them for target practice “

We are still amazed at the fact she never even missed them…and the fact it took her another week to come claim them...... Maybe boobs are just not THAT important after all…..

Party On ... just dont forget what you came with - part one

There is nothing I enjoy more than entertaining my friends. I am often called upon to host the get - to-gethers and my Mom always called my “the Hostess with the Mostess” Plenty of food, and of course plenty of ‘beverages’. Crank up the karaoke system and we are good to go….especially after round seven …or was it eight?


Now everyone has had those great parties where you spend days returning left behind objects to the guests whom had SUCH a great time, they simply forgot they brought things with them. You know, things like jackets, shoes, handbags, cellphones, cooler, spouses, kids, underwear, boobs.

Yes, all have been left behind at my place.

Now some things, like purses, cellphones, and coolers them quickly retrieve. ( especially if coolers still have some beer in it) Other things, especially the spouses and kids, we have to really make them take them back… even going are far as doing a drive by drop off…. You know … slow the car down just enough to toss them out then peel rubber down the street. But those are items people call and ask if we have seen them. But the odder items, underwear and Boobs, well, its like they totally forgot they had them with them.

Both underwear and boobs where unexpected ‘gifts’ at Christmas time.

The Underwear first. Ladies, and some of you guys, know all about thongs. They even have a song out about them, the Thong Song. Well personally I cant see why anyone wants to deliberately wear something that crawls up the crack, but to each her own. Anyway, after about round nine, or ten, it seems that you butt goes numb. And you forget you have something wedged between the cheeks. And in the hurry of flushing out a few drinks in the bathroom to make room for more, you can fail to remember you even have them on, hence wetting them. So, what do you do? You cant keep them on…so you remove them, wash them out, then hang them in the shower, thinking, I will let them dry then put them back on.

Of course after a few more, you forget all about the flimsy piece of fabric hanging behind the shower curtain drying . And of course, you go home without them.

Well the next day, my husband found them. Swinging them around , Steve came out asking me “yours?” Once informed as to who’s they were, and considering his friend, the husband, left early the night before forgetting his wife at our place, ( lucky the just lived next door… we were spared a drive by drop off ), he of course could not resist in calling his friend up and informing him, “hey, your ol’ lady left her underwear at my place…”

After a pause, our neighbor replied… Really? … well damn! Let me check something… Damn, She made it home …Hey, You didn’t happen to find my beer coozie did you?? I would hate to lose it”

Ahhh ……Male priorities ….

Next time … the boobs….