pining
------------------------
that day
sleep tapped me
i flipped
my scarf over my shoulder
remained
to witness a train depart
start to sift my memory
my spirit travelled off
that night
sleep summoned me
i kipped
geographically confused
refrained
from stretching out my arms
alarms me to a vacancy
my mind travelled off
that morning
sleep abandoned me
i flipped
my doona jumped out of bed
strained
to write about far fetched thoughts
wrought false complacency
my muse travelled off
that day
sleep wrapped me
for i had ripped
the pages that were bound to me
pained
to languish with far stretched charms
qualms they come to be
my time travelled off
that night
sleep taunted me
i flip
my scarf over my shoulder
remain
to witness a train arrive
strive to sift my memory
I wake
the scene escapes me
my dream has travelled off
- Michelle Napolitano 2003
Monday, March 12, 2012
Only A Word
Only A Word
--------------------------
alienate me from the extremities
i cannot take this force unknown
to breathe and eat this cauldron simmers
steams this illness this mere word
i know not the earthly rainbow
fled from the sky in twilight
i kick the breeze and speak the dust
dream this illness far from you
fortunetellers please beware
the seconds tick away the light
freezing as the sun breaks sky
ground and water dance as one
and to this day all weak complaints
disappear into the mud
for this word makes world petty
seems this illness is verbose
- Michelle Napolitano 2000
--------------------------
alienate me from the extremities
i cannot take this force unknown
to breathe and eat this cauldron simmers
steams this illness this mere word
i know not the earthly rainbow
fled from the sky in twilight
i kick the breeze and speak the dust
dream this illness far from you
fortunetellers please beware
the seconds tick away the light
freezing as the sun breaks sky
ground and water dance as one
and to this day all weak complaints
disappear into the mud
for this word makes world petty
seems this illness is verbose
- Michelle Napolitano 2000
Wisdom Tree or Dizzy Spell
Right. The original title of this poem, written in around 2000 was indeed 'Dizzy Spell'...'Wisdom Tree' was what I called the collection of poems I included with it for a poetry assignment. I think I changed it when I revived it for another poetry class in 2003/4.
Which do you prefer?
Dizzy Spell
---------------
What does it take to be sure?
Reality behaves like a mime.
Consciousness is covered in dust,
And it's not alone.
Wrong lives too close to right,
Morality is a small child,
Demanding yet naive
And Guilt is its mother.
What does it take to be free?
Society is a train,
Where you pay and behave
And people stare.
Life is too close to death,
Awareness is an unplanted seed.
Indifference is a cliff edge,
Where Sadness built a house.
Want's alias is Jealousy,
Who lives with Greed.
Need sits humbly on the pier
Catching fish.
- Michelle Napolitano 2000
Which do you prefer?
Dizzy Spell
---------------
What does it take to be sure?
Reality behaves like a mime.
Consciousness is covered in dust,
And it's not alone.
Wrong lives too close to right,
Morality is a small child,
Demanding yet naive
And Guilt is its mother.
What does it take to be free?
Society is a train,
Where you pay and behave
And people stare.
Life is too close to death,
Awareness is an unplanted seed.
Indifference is a cliff edge,
Where Sadness built a house.
Want's alias is Jealousy,
Who lives with Greed.
Need sits humbly on the pier
Catching fish.
- Michelle Napolitano 2000
Archives and Block cleared.
This month's blogs will be archives of writing that I created... what seems like an age ago. Wow, that sounds terribly clichè. But, I just discovered a perk of typing on an Italian keyboard. I don't have to click 'insert symbol' and scroll through a little window of accented letters to type clichè. I just type it.
The reason for this burst of insomnia-driven, edgy night spent with a glass of milk at the computer at 23 minutes past 10 'o clock (ooh... burning the candle at both ends and living precariously) is that I have written two short, choppy sort of… well I suppose you could call them ‘random word collections strung together with some kind of sentimental adhesive’ in the past few weeks which is more than what I have written in the last five years, poetry-wise.
This recent explosion of randomness has led me to recall one of my personal favourites – ‘Wisdom Tree,’ which then led me to remember that I, perhaps knowing that this past decade would take me from suburb to suburb and back and across to the other side of the world, thus dozens of folders of printer paper, loose leaf, curly edged torn from spiral exercise books (now known as ‘quaderni’) failed USBs and computer hardrives later… Luckily – LUCKILY I did create a myspace page, including a blog of my preferred old stories and poems, before deserting the space and entering the realm of Facebook. And luckily, they are still in cyberspace. I shall now retrieve them, save them on my super-powered terrabyte triple backed-up network drive and then save them here in this blog as separate entries. I will try to date them.
Then, I might even try to write something new.
But I wrote the following in a Facebook Check-in to ‘Earth’ on FB. Shut-up. The idea to check in to Earth seemed mind-blowing at the time.
Earth
Michelle Napolitano was here.
Michelle Napolitano
check in is everybody in world is small after all are you comfortable in your kin blood is thicker thin as it bleeds sit for what is are SVP never ask shall breathe never die mend seams like restless young youth preserved repeated repeat stark stutters defeat diced reap benefits with edge cliff hold me in metaphors well now now now whose brow is yours now which stock casts stones roll bones dance on head strong order line queue you undo race time check check from being defined preoccopied sigh sigh cut in cut out gather rosebuds sometimes check in check out
Thursday 8th of March 2012 at 22:20 via Mobile • Like
The reason for this burst of insomnia-driven, edgy night spent with a glass of milk at the computer at 23 minutes past 10 'o clock (ooh... burning the candle at both ends and living precariously) is that I have written two short, choppy sort of… well I suppose you could call them ‘random word collections strung together with some kind of sentimental adhesive’ in the past few weeks which is more than what I have written in the last five years, poetry-wise.
This recent explosion of randomness has led me to recall one of my personal favourites – ‘Wisdom Tree,’ which then led me to remember that I, perhaps knowing that this past decade would take me from suburb to suburb and back and across to the other side of the world, thus dozens of folders of printer paper, loose leaf, curly edged torn from spiral exercise books (now known as ‘quaderni’) failed USBs and computer hardrives later… Luckily – LUCKILY I did create a myspace page, including a blog of my preferred old stories and poems, before deserting the space and entering the realm of Facebook. And luckily, they are still in cyberspace. I shall now retrieve them, save them on my super-powered terrabyte triple backed-up network drive and then save them here in this blog as separate entries. I will try to date them.
Then, I might even try to write something new.
But I wrote the following in a Facebook Check-in to ‘Earth’ on FB. Shut-up. The idea to check in to Earth seemed mind-blowing at the time.
Earth
Michelle Napolitano was here.
Michelle Napolitano
check in is everybody in world is small after all are you comfortable in your kin blood is thicker thin as it bleeds sit for what is are SVP never ask shall breathe never die mend seams like restless young youth preserved repeated repeat stark stutters defeat diced reap benefits with edge cliff hold me in metaphors well now now now whose brow is yours now which stock casts stones roll bones dance on head strong order line queue you undo race time check check from being defined preoccopied sigh sigh cut in cut out gather rosebuds sometimes check in check out
Thursday 8th of March 2012 at 22:20 via Mobile • Like
Friday, November 25, 2011
Excerpt from: ~BEING FRANK~ Written by Michelle Napolitano { A WORK IN PROGRESS }
In the foyer, the Christmas tree warmed the atmosphere with its Christmas lights and the soothing scent of pine. I sat next to it and memories poured over me, of our lounge room when I would curl up under the tree and stare up at the branches. The lights and decorations twinkled as I gazed at them, eagerly awaiting the morning; searching for the presents marked with my name. The warm summer night breeze drifted softly through the screen door, and the trees swayed gently outside in the balmy night air. Projections of Christmas Eve flickered in my mind: Santa in red flares and a red, felt overcoat; striding through the group of kids sitting cross-legged on the lounge-room floor. His white beard was not nearly as fluffy as the Santa at the shops – it was quite flat, like a white, wooly blanket. His nose was round and porous with feint scaring on the bridge. When he talked and chuckled, as he called out each gift receiver's name, his teeth looked long and broad, just like Nonna's teeth. One Christmas Eve, Santa stayed for a beer with my Uncles and Aunties. I called out for my father to come and meet Santa – but, as usual, my father was in the toilet with bad stomach pains and possibly 'the runs,' and so he couldn't come out. He was going to miss out on seeing Santa – again. My cousin Lucy and I approached Santa. Lucy, Shirley's daughter, is two years younger than me and stood about 6 inches shorter, with dark blonde hair cut into a dead-straight long fringe and jaw-length bob –identical to my dark brown bob at the time. Her cheeks were freckled and her lips always looked like she was wearing dark pink lipstick. We had short discussions with Santa previously, within the last few years. Well, not so much discussions – they were more like interrogations. The information collected so far was: 1. Santa parked his sleigh on the roof . 2. His reindeers stayed on the roof with the sleigh and did not want to be seen. (Sometimes they were shy and sometimes they were invisible). 3. Santa visited everyone's house in the world on Christmas Eve as well as deliver presents during the night – these great tasks were achieved by pure magic. 4. Even though he parked on the roof, he always arrived through my parent's bedroom door and into the lounge-room. If Christmas Eve was held at my Auntie's house, or Nonno and Nonna's, he would arrive through their bedroom door. This was an unquestioned, accepted fact. This Christmas Eve, Lucy and I were eager to find out why Santa was wearing brown slippers – 'Grosby' brand, just like my father's. Santa paused and stole a few side glances at the other adults at the dining room table. There was a wooden bowl brimming with beer nuts, a wooden platter shaped into a leaf holding an assortment of nuts, dried fruit and pretzels, two ashtrays and several glasses of beer and lemon squash set around their circle. It was the adults table. The kids sprawled over the lounge-room couches, carpet and into the hall; amongst baskets of chips, Barbeque Shapes and plastic cups of soft drink. Santa opened his mouth before any sound came out. "Well, my boots get pretty muddy…so Frank gave me a lend of his slippers, so I don't get mud all over the carpet." Lucy nodded in agreement and I smiled, overjoyed that my Dad had spoken to Santa and even gone so far as to lend him his slippers. Santa rapped his fingertips on the table top. He must have been fixing the sleigh today, because his fingernails had grease under them. Second to that, he was wearing a gold wedding ring… "Santa, why are you wearing my Dad's wedding ring?" I asked. Santa smiled. "He gave me his ring, just to hold it for him while he isn't feeling well." Lucy smiled and nodded. I frowned. I stared at Santa's hand, Dad's ring, his grease-stained finger nails, his strange-looking jacket and flat beard, his nose, his mouth. It may have been the 80s, but it certainly did look out of place for Santa to be smoking Camel cigarettes. This was no Santa. I understood that I shouldn't share this new knowledge with my little cousin Lucy, as she gazed in awe at this pretend Father Christmas. I suddenly realized that every adult knew, my sisters knew and all of my cousins who were older than me knew that this man in red flares and brown slippers was Frank Napolitano; otherwise currently known by my cousins as 'Zio Frank' or 'Zizi Frankie' and known by my sisters and I as 'Papá'. And that mysterious looking plastic bag that Nonna brought to every Christmas Eve was indeed her home-made creation for Santa to wear. At this point, this did not mean that Santa Claus, the man himself, did not exist. It simply made more sense to me that it was impossible for him to visit everyone, so fathers around the world dressed up as him to share the load; and the real Santa stuck to delivering presents for Christmas morning. For every Christmas Eve with my family, it had been my Dad dressed as Santa all along. I was so happy: the two bearers of presents and funny jokes had suddenly been fused into a grinning, brown-slipper king.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
I'm On A Mountain
[Inspired by: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7yfISlGLNU and facing my fear of walking to the utmost peak of a mountain]
Best read whilst listening to:
The Lonely Island ‘I’m on a Boat’…FIND MP3 @
http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/I'm-On-A-Boat-lyrics-The-Lonely-Island/5E9E49DA852420D84825756000135C9F
Dedicated to Samantha, Diarmaid, Mirco and Giuseppe.
Thank you motherfuckers
10/08/2011 – 11/08/2011
I'm On A Mountain
Lyrics by
Artist(Band):The Lonely Island ‘I’m on a Boat’…
Lyrics adapted by: Michelle Napolitano
[Intro (T-Pain)]
(Smelly) Aww shit
Hiking boots ready it's about to go down (yeah, smelly)
Everybody in the place hit the fuckin trail (yeah, smelly)
The chair-lift’s not a fuckin option
We climbin’ this, let's go
[Chorus (T-Pain)]
I'm on a mountain (I'm on a mountain)
I'm on a mountain (I'm on a mountain)
Everybody look at me cause I'm climbin up a mountain (climbin up a mountain)
I'm on a mountain (I'm on a mountain)
I'm on a mountain
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin mountain (mountain, yeah)
[The Lonely Island (T-Pain)]
We’re on a mountain motherfucker take a look at us
Straight walking up a mountain in the fuckin clouds
Bustin ‘thousand feet, sai? ‘cos the Android’s countin
You can't stop me motherfucker cause I'm on a mountain
Take a picture, trick (trick) I'm on a mountain, bitch (bitch)
We drinkin some German beer, cause it's so crisp (crisp)
I got my hiking sticks, and my hiking stuff
Eatin’ lollies, so my blood sugar doesn’t drop
I'm walkin on a trail, doin skids and shit
This gravel’s rollin and it’s fuckin up my shins
Ain't Sound ‘o Music, this is real as it gets
I'm on a mountain motherfucker, don't you ever forget
I'm on a mountain and, it's fuckin high and
I got a beanie and my sunnies and backpack
I'm the king of the world, on a mountain like a pro
If you're on safe land, then you're sho' not me-oh
{Get the fuck up, this mountain is real}
Fuck level-land, I'm on a mountain, motherfucker (motherfucker)
Fuck paths, I walk rocks, motherfucker (motherfucker)
I'm on the peak with my friends-yo, motherfucker (yeah)
The mountain people say ‘buongiorno’, motherfucker
Hey ma, if you could see me now (see me now)
Arms spread wide on the high peak now (high peak now)
Gonna climb this mountain to the moon somehow (moon somehow)
Like Samantha said: … ‘trust-me-you’re-not gonna-fall…’
[T-Pain]
Yeah, never thought I'd be on a mountain
It’s from the Latin word mon-ta-an-us (yeah)
Hima-lay-a-a-an, Look at me, oh (don’t be fifone!)
Never thought I'd see the day
With a big mountain fuckin my way
Believe me when I say, I hugged a Diarmaid
[Chorus]
I'm on a mountain
I'm on a mountain
Everybody look at me cause im climbin up a mountain
I'm on a mountain
I'm on a mountain
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin mountain
[T-Pain]
Whoahhh
Sme-sme-Smelly, Smelly
Yeah yeah yeahhh
================================================================================
I'm On A Boat (Original) Lyrics
Artist(Band):The Lonely Island
[Intro (T-Pain)]
(Shawty) Aww shit
Get your towels ready it's about to go down (yeah, shawty)
Everybody in the place hit the fuckin deck (yeah, shawty)
But stay on your motherfuckin toes
We runnin this, let's go
[Chorus (T-Pain)]
I'm on a boat (I'm on a boat)
I'm on a boat (I'm on a boat)
Everybody look at me cause I'm sailin on a boat (sailin on a boat)
I'm on a boat (I'm on a boat)
I'm on a boat
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin boat (boat, yeah)
[The Lonely Island (T-Pain)]
I'm on a boat motherfucker take a look at me
Straight floatin on a boat on the deep blue sea
Bustin five knots, wind whippin at my coat
You can't stop me motherfucker cause I'm on a boat
Take a picture, trick (trick) I'm on a boat, bitch (bitch)
We drinking Santana champ, cause it's so crisp (crisp)
I got my swim trunks, and my flippie-floppies
I'm flippin burgers, you at Kinko's straight flippin copies
I'm ridin on a dolphin, doin flips and shit
This dolphin's splashin, gettin e'rybody all wet
But this ain't Seaworld, this is real as it gets
I'm on a boat motherfucker, don't you ever forget
I'm on a boat and, it's goin fast and
I got a nautical themed pashmina afghan
I'm the king of the world, on a boat like Leo
If you're on the shore, then you're sho' not me-oh
{Get the fuck up, this boat is real}
Fuck land, I'm on a boat, motherfucker (motherfucker)
Fuck trees, I climb buoys, motherfucker (motherfucker)
I'm on the deck with my boys, motherfucker (yeah)
The boat engine make noise, motherfucker
Hey ma, if you could see me now (see me now)
Arms spread wide on the starboard bow (starboard bow)
Gonna fly this boat to the moon somehow (moon somehow)
Like Kevin Garnett, anything is possible
[T-Pain]
Yeah, never thought I'd be on a boat
It's a big blue watery road (yeah)
Poseidon, Look at me, oh (all hands on deck)
Never thought I'd see the day
When a big boat comin my way
Believe me when I say, I fucked a mermaid
[Chorus]
I'm on a boat
I'm on a boat
Everybody look at me cause im sailin on a boat
I'm on a boat
I'm on a boat
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin boat
[T-Pain]
Whoahhh
Sha-sha-shorty, shorty
Yeah yeah yeahhh
Best read whilst listening to:
The Lonely Island ‘I’m on a Boat’…FIND MP3 @
http://www.sing365.com/music/lyric.nsf/I'm-On-A-Boat-lyrics-The-Lonely-Island/5E9E49DA852420D84825756000135C9F
Dedicated to Samantha, Diarmaid, Mirco and Giuseppe.
Thank you motherfuckers
10/08/2011 – 11/08/2011
I'm On A Mountain
Lyrics by
Artist(Band):The Lonely Island ‘I’m on a Boat’…
Lyrics adapted by: Michelle Napolitano
[Intro (T-Pain)]
(Smelly) Aww shit
Hiking boots ready it's about to go down (yeah, smelly)
Everybody in the place hit the fuckin trail (yeah, smelly)
The chair-lift’s not a fuckin option
We climbin’ this, let's go
[Chorus (T-Pain)]
I'm on a mountain (I'm on a mountain)
I'm on a mountain (I'm on a mountain)
Everybody look at me cause I'm climbin up a mountain (climbin up a mountain)
I'm on a mountain (I'm on a mountain)
I'm on a mountain
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin mountain (mountain, yeah)
[The Lonely Island (T-Pain)]
We’re on a mountain motherfucker take a look at us
Straight walking up a mountain in the fuckin clouds
Bustin ‘thousand feet, sai? ‘cos the Android’s countin
You can't stop me motherfucker cause I'm on a mountain
Take a picture, trick (trick) I'm on a mountain, bitch (bitch)
We drinkin some German beer, cause it's so crisp (crisp)
I got my hiking sticks, and my hiking stuff
Eatin’ lollies, so my blood sugar doesn’t drop
I'm walkin on a trail, doin skids and shit
This gravel’s rollin and it’s fuckin up my shins
Ain't Sound ‘o Music, this is real as it gets
I'm on a mountain motherfucker, don't you ever forget
I'm on a mountain and, it's fuckin high and
I got a beanie and my sunnies and backpack
I'm the king of the world, on a mountain like a pro
If you're on safe land, then you're sho' not me-oh
{Get the fuck up, this mountain is real}
Fuck level-land, I'm on a mountain, motherfucker (motherfucker)
Fuck paths, I walk rocks, motherfucker (motherfucker)
I'm on the peak with my friends-yo, motherfucker (yeah)
The mountain people say ‘buongiorno’, motherfucker
Hey ma, if you could see me now (see me now)
Arms spread wide on the high peak now (high peak now)
Gonna climb this mountain to the moon somehow (moon somehow)
Like Samantha said: … ‘trust-me-you’re-not gonna-fall…’
[T-Pain]
Yeah, never thought I'd be on a mountain
It’s from the Latin word mon-ta-an-us (yeah)
Hima-lay-a-a-an, Look at me, oh (don’t be fifone!)
Never thought I'd see the day
With a big mountain fuckin my way
Believe me when I say, I hugged a Diarmaid
[Chorus]
I'm on a mountain
I'm on a mountain
Everybody look at me cause im climbin up a mountain
I'm on a mountain
I'm on a mountain
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin mountain
[T-Pain]
Whoahhh
Sme-sme-Smelly, Smelly
Yeah yeah yeahhh
================================================================================
I'm On A Boat (Original) Lyrics
Artist(Band):The Lonely Island
[Intro (T-Pain)]
(Shawty) Aww shit
Get your towels ready it's about to go down (yeah, shawty)
Everybody in the place hit the fuckin deck (yeah, shawty)
But stay on your motherfuckin toes
We runnin this, let's go
[Chorus (T-Pain)]
I'm on a boat (I'm on a boat)
I'm on a boat (I'm on a boat)
Everybody look at me cause I'm sailin on a boat (sailin on a boat)
I'm on a boat (I'm on a boat)
I'm on a boat
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin boat (boat, yeah)
[The Lonely Island (T-Pain)]
I'm on a boat motherfucker take a look at me
Straight floatin on a boat on the deep blue sea
Bustin five knots, wind whippin at my coat
You can't stop me motherfucker cause I'm on a boat
Take a picture, trick (trick) I'm on a boat, bitch (bitch)
We drinking Santana champ, cause it's so crisp (crisp)
I got my swim trunks, and my flippie-floppies
I'm flippin burgers, you at Kinko's straight flippin copies
I'm ridin on a dolphin, doin flips and shit
This dolphin's splashin, gettin e'rybody all wet
But this ain't Seaworld, this is real as it gets
I'm on a boat motherfucker, don't you ever forget
I'm on a boat and, it's goin fast and
I got a nautical themed pashmina afghan
I'm the king of the world, on a boat like Leo
If you're on the shore, then you're sho' not me-oh
{Get the fuck up, this boat is real}
Fuck land, I'm on a boat, motherfucker (motherfucker)
Fuck trees, I climb buoys, motherfucker (motherfucker)
I'm on the deck with my boys, motherfucker (yeah)
The boat engine make noise, motherfucker
Hey ma, if you could see me now (see me now)
Arms spread wide on the starboard bow (starboard bow)
Gonna fly this boat to the moon somehow (moon somehow)
Like Kevin Garnett, anything is possible
[T-Pain]
Yeah, never thought I'd be on a boat
It's a big blue watery road (yeah)
Poseidon, Look at me, oh (all hands on deck)
Never thought I'd see the day
When a big boat comin my way
Believe me when I say, I fucked a mermaid
[Chorus]
I'm on a boat
I'm on a boat
Everybody look at me cause im sailin on a boat
I'm on a boat
I'm on a boat
Take a good hard look at the motherfuckin boat
[T-Pain]
Whoahhh
Sha-sha-shorty, shorty
Yeah yeah yeahhh
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Valentino
Valentino is speaking English and Italian and even some Veronese dialect. He is always smiling – and this of course brings me great joy. He has positive influences around him and lots of learning opportunities – such as naming and handling the fresh fruit and vegetables in the family Gastronomia (deli), watching the exchange of money and goods, interacting with his four, nine and fourteen year old cousins, his sixty something grandparents and his eighty something great-grandmother.
He eats freshly harvested and prepared wholesome foods, as lots of the fresh produce comes from local farms and all of the dishes are prepared by his nonni, zia or the women who work at the shop, who he has also grown to be quite fond of.
He has enjoyed getting to know my work colleagues because, not only are they great people but also I’m sure it pleases him to have people other than mum and dad to speak in English with. Although, he has been teaching his Nonna English. She has learnt ‘sit down,’ ‘more,’ ‘milk,’ ‘outside,’ ‘green,’ ‘red,’ ‘car,’ and numbers 1-10 from her 19 month old grandson.
When Giuseppe and I are both working she takes him out walking through the town. Passersby greet him by name and he waves and smiles and says ‘Ciao’.
He is so wonderful, sometimes I can’t believe it. Giuseppe and I gaze at him like he is an angel, look at each other and ask “But, how did we make such a wonderful boy?”
On weekends we play in his room, which is set up with little shelves of puzzles and activities, a box of musical instruments, a bookshelf and a standard, must-have large cardboard box made into a house – what child can resist.
For downtime, we read books; watch Dora, Bob or Little Einsteins. He helps us clean the apartment by putting dirty clothes in the laundry basket or washing machine, carrying his nappy bags to the front door and putting rubbish in the bin. He is also getting better at packing up his toys independently.
Now, working full-time and being physically away from him for 12 hours every week day, my time with him is more precious than ever. I love him so much and feel a sense of pride I have not known before – that we are doing such a great job raising him. I couldn’t do it without the Napolitano’s and the Rossignoli’s support.
If only our families could truly merge – see each other regularly, have dinners and bbqs and gatherings…
I told Giuseppe 3 years ago to invent a teleporter. He hasn’t even drawn up the blue prints for it.
It’s hard having your heart in two places. But my heart of hearts is with my love and my son.
He eats freshly harvested and prepared wholesome foods, as lots of the fresh produce comes from local farms and all of the dishes are prepared by his nonni, zia or the women who work at the shop, who he has also grown to be quite fond of.
He has enjoyed getting to know my work colleagues because, not only are they great people but also I’m sure it pleases him to have people other than mum and dad to speak in English with. Although, he has been teaching his Nonna English. She has learnt ‘sit down,’ ‘more,’ ‘milk,’ ‘outside,’ ‘green,’ ‘red,’ ‘car,’ and numbers 1-10 from her 19 month old grandson.
When Giuseppe and I are both working she takes him out walking through the town. Passersby greet him by name and he waves and smiles and says ‘Ciao’.
He is so wonderful, sometimes I can’t believe it. Giuseppe and I gaze at him like he is an angel, look at each other and ask “But, how did we make such a wonderful boy?”
On weekends we play in his room, which is set up with little shelves of puzzles and activities, a box of musical instruments, a bookshelf and a standard, must-have large cardboard box made into a house – what child can resist.
For downtime, we read books; watch Dora, Bob or Little Einsteins. He helps us clean the apartment by putting dirty clothes in the laundry basket or washing machine, carrying his nappy bags to the front door and putting rubbish in the bin. He is also getting better at packing up his toys independently.
Now, working full-time and being physically away from him for 12 hours every week day, my time with him is more precious than ever. I love him so much and feel a sense of pride I have not known before – that we are doing such a great job raising him. I couldn’t do it without the Napolitano’s and the Rossignoli’s support.
If only our families could truly merge – see each other regularly, have dinners and bbqs and gatherings…
I told Giuseppe 3 years ago to invent a teleporter. He hasn’t even drawn up the blue prints for it.
It’s hard having your heart in two places. But my heart of hearts is with my love and my son.
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