only backgroundI'm a wife, mother and grandmother. I'm opinionated. I contradict myself frequently. Most of all, I love my kids. I believe in them. I fight for them. They're weird and wonderful. If you want to know more, here's a bunch of other stuff from my old site.
When we were kids, my mom always drove a station wagon. There were no car seat or seat belt laws back then so we’d sit in the back, sometimes turning it into a “bed” even though we never fell asleep back there.
Often, on Sundays we’d take a neighbor and her daughter to church with us. My mom and her friend Donna would ride in the front while my sister and Donna’s daughter, Cara, would ride in the very back, singing and talking.
One Sunday, my mom and Donna were discussing the funny gag gifts from their recent Christmas party. My mom is Croatian with an Italian last name because of my dad. Some had given her an two irish gifts, a small leprechaun and a ‘Kiss me, I’m Irish’ shirt as a joke. That led to a discussion of heritage and nationality between Cara, my sister and me. My mother remembers it this way:
My sister: We’re Italian and Croatian
Cara: Well, can you say anything in Italian or Croatian?
Me: Yeah (mangled words for “come here” and “eat”)
My sister: What are you?
Cara: I don’t know. Mom, what am I?
Donna: English
Cara: We’re English.
Me: Can you say anything in English?
Cara: Just because I’m English doesn’t mean I can speak it!
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