Against All Odds

A Father's Day e-card for my dad, who's life is, and always has been, more inspiring and amazing than most of us could ever imagine! 

My father, Philip Vito Festoso - AKA Sam, was born August 28th, 1933 in Chicago - Cabrini Green to be exact - which, back then, was heavily populated with Italian immigrants.

His mother, Margaret (my own daughter is named after her) was born in 1894 in Denton, Texas.

Being the independent, free-spirited girl that she was, though, she took off to Hollywood to make it as a movie star. One silent movie later (Cleopatra?) she headed to Chicago via New York, and proclaimed from that point on she was "from New York."

 

 

His father, Umberto, was an orphaned immigrant from Sicily. He was certainly not a constant in my father's life, but what little parenting he did provide was certainly more than he received as an indentured servant in Italy.

 



So my father and his mom struggled to make ends meet during the great depression in the inner city of Chicago. This is my father at five years old:

 

 

He and my mom, who grew up in WWII and post WWII Europe, like to playfully argue about who was poorer. Every time my mom sees this picture she laughs and says, "at least you had a bike. I never had a bike."

 

Not many years after this picture was taken, before my father even turned ten, he got his first job - at Wrigley Field. He cleaned up programs after Cub games for pennies. To this day you won't find a bigger Cub fan.

 

These are his childhood friends:

 



Some of whom he still keeps in touch with, and others who have passed on. They don't know my father as Philip, though. They know him as Sam. You see, my dad had no idea his real name was Philip until he started middle school. On the first day of school, when the teacher called out Philip Festoso, he told her she had the wrong name. It wasn't until he got home that afternoon, and told his mother about it, that she said something to the effect of, "oh yeah, I forgot to tell you that."

So he finished high school and, though I'm pretty sure he had never even met a college graduate, my father decided to go to college - and somehow convinced his buddies to join him. These are his buddies:

No doubt troublemakers

 

Well, being the man he is, not only did my father finish college, but he then went on to serve in the Navy aboard the destroyer USS Savage for two years. Upon returning from sea he started law school at night while working during the day.

 

That's when he met this girl:

 

 

 

"A distraction," said the law school dean. "Wait until you've graduated before getting married."

 

 

This is three months before they got married - or should I say three months after they met ;)

 

 

Not to worry - he graduated from law school and got the girl. That was 55 years ago - and they said it wouldn't last!

 

Then this happened:

 



 

And then this:

 

 

 

And after a whirlwind of cub scouts, girl scouts, t-ball, baseball, basketball, college tuitions, graduate school tuitions, weddings, and grandchildren - he's still the same dad I've always known!

 

With his wife of 55 years and 12 grandchildren

 

 

Against all odds he has remained a devoted husband, a loving and nurturing father, a proud grandfather, a successful entrepreneur, and a constant inspiration in my life. And of all the amazing memories I have of my father, there is one that will forever stand out - a young girl sitting on her father's lap, listening to him tell her, "you can do anything you want in life. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

 

I'm sure it's a line many fathers tell their daughters, but the older I get, and the more I understand what he overcame, the more significant his words have become.

 

 

I love you, Dad

Happy Father's Day



 



 





A lesson in morality (from seven year olds)

It's amazing how important, life-lesson conversation with our children can happen anywhere, at any time. And it's amazing how those lesson that we believe are for our children also teach us. The other day, as I was doing the dishes, and the girls were playing on the floor nearby, we had one of those conversations. I wrote it down as soon as I had time, and snapped a picture of them, so I would always remember that moment as it really happened.

I have to preface this with a warning. I very rarely write about politically or socially controversial topics because I don't really care to hear other peoples' view, so I figure no one really wants to hear mine. And this post isn't about me stating my views, though they do come out. It's really about watching my children grow emotionally and spiritually - which is priceless.

Vidya: Mommy, when a woman marries another woman, and they have a baby, what does the baby call each of them?

Me: It just depends what they want to be called. There are a lot of different words for mommy. Or for daddy if it's two gay men.

Vidya: What does gay mean?

Me: It's a term to describe a same-gender couple. Or you can say homosexual.

Mari: How do two men have a baby?

Me: They either adopt or have a female friend carry the baby for them.

Vidya: Do two women both call each other wife?

Me: Yep. Or life-partner if they're not able to get married.

Mari: Why wouldn't they want to get married if they love each other?

Me: Well, it's not legal in every state.

Vidya: You mean it's against the law?

Me: Yep.

Mari: Is it legal in Mississippi?

Me: No. I'm sure Mississippi will be one of the last states to legalize gay marriage.

Vidya: Why?

Me: Because there's a heavy Christian influence here, and many Christians believe it's a sin.

Vidya: Is it a sin?

Me: Well, that's something you'll have to decide for yourself when you're older and you've met more gay people.

Vidya: I think I'm old enough. (Pause) I don't think it's a sin.

Mari: Do you think it's a sin, Mommy?

Me: Well, what do think a sin is?

Mari: Something bad that God doesn't want you to do. (Pause) But isn't a sin something that hurts someone else? It doesn't make sense that it's a sin. I mean, what if Daddy was a girl. Would you still marry him.

Me: You can't help who you love, baby. And yes, if Daddy were a girl I still would have married him - if we were allowed to - because I love him that much.

Mari: I'm pretty sure it's not a sin.

Me: Then I guess you have your answer.

I can't always control how my political, religious, and moral views shape my children, but I do encourage them to create their own ideas and opinions, based on their own set of morals and their own views of right and wrong. It's a proud moment for me as a parent when I see my children make a thoughtful stand, for our against something, without being told what to believe.

Why I push my kids to fail

Today was kind of a wasted day...but kind of not.

After three hours in the principal's office at my girls' school - having an unplanned conversation that could have gone on forever - I finally figured out why I push my children to fail.

I know. That sounds awful. But it really isn't. Let me explain.

My kids do well in school - they don't have to work too hard but, with the smart genes they inherited from their dad, they don't really have to. But I want them to. I want them to know what it feels like to work so hard for something that they're truly proud of what they accomplish. And I also want them to know what it feels like to work so hard for something and to fail.

Because that's life.

When everything is handed to you in life, and you never push yourself out of your comfort zone, you don't learn how to fail gracefully, and how to pick yourself back up and try again.

Failure has been an enormous presence in my life, and has pushed me to accomplish more than I ever thought possible.

I was rejected by far more medical schools than the ONE that accepted me. I never matched into my top residency program (though I am forever grateful to have been given the opportunity to learn psychiatry at the University of Iowa). I probably lost more tennis matches than I won throughout my career, and I rarely win races, though I compete in plenty. I was turned down by literary agents who wouldn't even give me the time of day. I have been told on more than one occasion I should just hire a professional to do the things I try to do at home, and I have killed more plants than deserved it just to grow some tomatoes that I don't even like.

But at least I tried.

And that's what I want for my children.

They're finally getting to an age where they see what failure looks like, and they're making decisions to participate - or not participate - based on whether they will be successful. Whether or not they will win.

So how do you teach a child that there is no shame in not winning? There is no shame in not succeeding. There is no shame in not being the best. There is only shame in not trying.

You push them to fail.

And so I push my children to fail.

Not because I want them to be failures or because I want them to suffer. Of course that's not what I want for my children. I push them to fail because it's the only way they'll learn to succeed.

I push them to fail because only then will they see how much harder they have to fight to get what they want and to accomplish what they've set out to do, and only then will they push the boundaries of what they think their limitations are.

Failure ain't easy!

Is Homeschooling in My Future?

No.

No it is not.

So...three days ago, when I knew winter storm/polar vortex/southern blizzard "Leon" was coming, and I was certain school would be cancelled for a couple of days, I thought...hmmm, maybe I should pretend like I'm homeschooling the kids. Maybe I'll be good at it. Maybe it's in my future.

Day 1:
That was a long time ago. I can't remember what we did.

Day 2:
I think we had a crazy cross-eyed cat competition, since I have it recorded on my phone, but I don't remember much else.

Day 3: (Today)
It started like this for my kids,

and with me nestled behind the computer with a cup of coffee, checking emails, FB posts, and news sites. In the back of my mind I had big plans to get the girls going on some math worksheets, but then...I found the comments section on CNN discussing Atlanta's abysmal handling of..."only two inches of snow!"
                   

                     "Those southerners should come up to Jersey for a winter. Maybe if they put              their mobile phones down and stopped texting they could learn how to drive!" -Joe in Jersey

 

                     "It's not that we don't know how to drive in snow. It was all ICE. Two inches of ice and no one was prepared. You northerners would be worse off than us it you had to drive on ice." -Dixie in Atlanta

 

                    "It's the government's fault. The mayor and governor should be held accountable. I'm a transplant from Boston to Atlanta, and I've never seen ice like this!" -Redsox in Atlanta

 

                   "I live in Minnesota and my five year old could drive better in 2 inches of snow than the rest of you rednecks. Put your mobile phones down and stop posting pictures to facebook. Just drive. -George in Minnesota

 

Wait a minute...I have a sneaking suspicion Joe in Jersey and George in Minnesota are the same person. Who uses the phrase 'mobile phone?'. I better look into this. So I scroll through the postings, looking for more comments by Joe and George, because this seems extremely important to me.

 

Mari: Mommy can I have some breakfast now. I'm starving.

Me: Just a minute, baby, I'm doing something really important on the computer.

 

That's when I realized I'd been reading the comments section for over an hour, and I was still  no closer to discovering the true identity of Joe and George. So I nuked some pancakes in the microwave, slapped some butter on them, and tried to find the source of the rotten banana smell wafting through the kitchen.

 

Aha!! The backpacks - which I hadn't opened since they came home from school on Monday afternoon - still had their half eaten/half rotten lunches tucked away inside. You know what else was inside? Homework and books, so they could study for the 8 bazillion tests they have tomorrow.

 

I guess we'll get to the homework soon, but for now the girls are busy laying in my bed watching Netflix...and they look so comfy I just don't want to disturb them.

 

 

Oh yeah, and I promise, before I take them to school tomorrow I'll make sure they take a bath and brush their teeth!

 

 

Sort of, almost, not quite perfect

The other day a friend of mine commented about how well behaved my children are, how lucky I am to have such a great family, and how I must be such a patient mom. I considered telling her about all the crazy s*#t that goes at my house, just to prove how imperfect we are, but then - I don't know - it was kind of nice having someone think we're the perfect family. So I just thanked her with a oh we're not that perfect comment, and let it go. Except I couldn't let it go...not in my head. I know that I am blessed, fortunate, lucky - whatever you want to call it - to have two healthy and happy children, a wonderful husband, and the coolest dog in the world, and I am eternally grateful for the many pains in life that I have been spared. But...sometimes it just doesn't feel so perfect. Not that I would trade a second with my kids for anything, but I'd be lying if I said every moment was bliss.

It's 8:00am as I write this, and all of the following happened between 6:45am and dropping my kids off at school twenty minutes ago:

6:45am
Vidya: I want to take a bath this morning.
Me: There's no time for a bath. I woke you up too late. You can take one tonight instead.
Vidya: (High whiney voice) But you said I could take one in the morning. Why'd you wake me up late?
Me: It doesn't matter. There's nothing you can do about it now. Just get dressed and go brush your teeth. Do you want waffles for breakfast.
Vidya: I don't know. I'm not hungry yet.
Me: Well you can't wait for the last minute because I won't have time to make anything then.

7:15am
Mari: Mommy can I go outside?
Me: Sure, just make sure you don't go near the pool.

You see, last night Mari clumsily fell into the freezing pool, fully clothed in her school uniform and school shoes, which are still soaked and probably destroyed. So, I'm sure you can understand my frustration when I glance out the window and she is bending over the side of the pool to feel the temperature of the water.

Me: (In a raised voice, since I *cough* don't yell) What was the LAST thing I said to you before you went outside?
Mari: (With her hand still submerged in the water) Not to go near the pool.
Me: Then what are you doing?
Mari: Checking the temperature. It feels warm, Mommy. You should feel it.
Me: Get inside!

7:20am
Vidya: Mommy I can't find my shoes.
Me: Where did you take them off yesterday?
Vidya: By the shoe rack.
Me: Then look by the shoe rack.
Vidya: I did, but they're not there.
Me: I don't know. I can't keep track of everyone's shoes in the house. I have to finish making your lunches and get your backpacks packed. Just find them.
Vidya: But they're not anywhere. I've checked the whole house. Mari's are there. And they're dry already.
Me: Mari's shoes are still soaked in the laundry room.

*Lighbulb* Upon further inspection, it is Vidya's shoes - that Mari had been wearing when she fell into the pool - soaked and ruined in the laundry room.

Me: Mari, were you wearing Vidya's shoes yesterday when you fell into the pool?
Mari: Maybe. I just grabbed a pair from the shoe rack.
Vidya: Great! Now I have to wear soaking wet shoes to school, and everyone will think I fell in the pool.
Me: Let's not be so dramatic. Just find a different pair. We'll get you a new pair this weekend.
Vidya: Is Mari going to get a new pair of shoes?
Me: I'm not discussing this right now. Just find some shoes.
Mari: Why don't I get a new pair?
Me: Both of you just put on some shoes and stop talking!

7:30am
Me: It's 7:30 we have to leave.
Vidya: Where are my waffles?
Me: I didn't make any waffles. You never told me what you wanted.
Vidya: Can I please have some waffles?
Me: It's too late now. You're both just going to have to grab a granola bar.
Mari: I don't want a granola bar.
Me: Then don't eat anything. It's a granola bar or nothing. You decide.

7:40am
Pulling into the school parking lot.
Vidya: Mommy, you know what I can't wait for?
Me: What's that, baby?
Vidya: I can't wait until I have enough money to buy my own car so I can sneak out in the middle of the night.
Me: That's nice, sweetie. Love you! Have a great day!

My new nightmare!!