The Warmth of the Sun

Throughout elementary school I spent a significant amount of time at my grandparents house. It was full of treasures, a mysterious basement, an attic for exploring, an expansive yard with a detached shed and hammock flocked by huge trees, blackberry bushes lining a hidden path to a neighbor's house with a pool, a creek full of rocks to throw and frogs to catch that ran under their yard (through a tunnel!), and bedrooms galore. In retirement, my grandmother became a florist and my grandfather a jeweler, so you can just imagine the trove that they had under their roof. One of my favorite parts of their house was their collection of reader's digest magazines. They were my size, so I thought they were for me. Almost immediately upon entering their house, I would pick one up and carry it with me throughout my stay. I have distinct memories of reading my little magazine in their downstairs bathroom, next to where my grandmother arranged flowers. I would sit cross-legged atop the toilet seat with rose stem clippings at my feet, the familiar scent of flowers and spongey green oasis filling the air.

Somewhere among the way-too-many pages I read was the idea that as you felt the new warmth of spring sun, it was your loved ones wrapping their arms around you. At the time I read this, several family members had recently passed away and I longed for closure. Without getting into the nitty gritty of heaven or afterlife, I can affirm that this idea has stuck with me. Now, well into adulthood, I have continued to associate the coming of spring with a time of remembrance.

As we walked through the woods on last weekend and through DC again this weekend, the newly warm sun began to peek through winter. As my body welcomed this warmth, I slipped into quiet remembrance. I am so thankful for the grandparents and great grandparents that have loved me well. I miss them fiercely, but I am grateful for the reminder of their embrace by the shining of the sun.

Here is another day we were out and about enjoying warm sun (albeit autumn) and remembering.

And more about my grandparents.

The Greek Miracle - Avgolemeno Soup

Growing Up, I have distinct memories of spending days being sick at my Yia-yia's house. My infinitely brilliant mom, packed me up in the car with my dad and on his way to work, he would swing by Yia-yia's house. Upon my arrival, a warm spot on the couch would be waiting for me. Come lunch time, she would set up a chair and card table in the living room in front of the TV with endless reruns of Shirley Temple and most important, a stack of saltines and a bowl of avgolemeno soupa! If I was starting to feel better after lunch, Yia-yia would teach me some of the dance moves in the show and we would sing, "On the good ship, lollipop..."

My Yia-yia loved being helpful and took great care of me, my mom wrangled the three younger kids knowing I was being cared for. Now that I see life juggle two kids (hardly four!) when one of them gets sick, life slows down and things have to drop.

As we have battled a series of colds this winter (Haven't we all? The crazy weather and the long winter seem to be amplifying the flu and cold season. I hope your family is coming around the bend if you too have been feeling ill.) Mark reminded me of Yia-yia's soup. I turned to pinterest and google, but the recipes I found all came up short. They added too many ingredients, or seemed to skip key steps. And then I found a forgotten recipe penned by my Yia-yia herself. These cards were clearly written to a young bride -- I don't think Yia-yia ever used canned chicken broth and she gave me the tip that extra rice could be used for another meal. My favorite is that she encouraged me to "write if there's a problem." Imagine waiting for that reply!

scroll down for the recipe typed out.

Yia-Yia's Avgolemeno Soupa

Ingredients:
5.5 cups of broth - either (3) 14.5 ounce cans or homemade broth
1 cup of uncooked rice
3 cups of water -- above Yia-yia says 3.5-4 cups of water, she liked soggy rice!
Butter and Salt to taste -- sometimes I forget these, they aren't essential
3 eggs
1-2 lemons for juicing or 1 cup of lemon juice
Shredded chicken (or left over turkey works too)

Directions: order adapted slightly from above
Tip -- you will likely need two pots unless you want to do some washing in between.
Bring water and salt (if desired) to a boil.
Add rice (and butter), stir, lower heat, cook 20-25 minutes until desired tenderness
While rice is cooking, juice your lemons
Pour broth into your bigger pot and cook over medium high heat
(once the rice is finished, add a cup of cooked rice to the broth)
While the broth is heating, crack and beat three eggs until thick and creamy
As you continue to beat the eggs, add the lemon juice slowly
Scoop a cupful of the warm broth and get ready to pour it into the lemon and egg mixture (still beating)
THE MOST IMPORTANT STEP:
As you combine the broth, pucker your lips and "kiss kiss kiss" the air until combined

this has been scientifically proven to prevent curdling - even grown greek men don't skip this step!

Repeat the last two steps 1-2 times until the egg mixture warms up
Slowly add the mixture back into the pot of broth and rice cooking on the stovetop
Keep stirring
Add in shredded chicken, and more salt and pepper to taste.
Serve with extra lemon

Never cover this soup when cooking or reheating. Always bring back to hot slowly and stir frequently to prevent curdling.

Do you have a family "get well" tradition?

What are your go to foods when feeling under the weather?

Baking with Behr

some of these pictures are almost a year old!

I really love baking with Behr. If you know me, you would know I am a bit OCD with about everything except grammar (I'm terrible) and baking. Baking, at least some baking, needs a level of precision that I don't quite have the patience for. So much so, that Mark recently told a group that I am definitely not a baker. Boy, did I prove him wrong this Fall. All of our waists may now be suffering because of it.

I have ventured into apple pies, german apple pancakes, pumpkin bread, and muffins, and cookies, a failed scones recipe (in which Mark may have secretly deemed himself triumphant), a successful scones recipe, so successful I immediately made a second batch, blueberry muffins, carrot raisin muffins, my old family recipe for the most delicious chocolate chip cookies ever, and now I am embarking on sugar cookies. Why am I making sugar cookies?  Because the dollar spot at target told me to! And I couldn't say no when Behr picked out cookie cutters instead of the stickers. Who could say no to that?

Mostly, I have started baking more because Behr gets so excited. If I pull out the flour or sugar canisters, he is immediately dragging the chair over from the table to stand up right beside me. He wants to hold and pass and pour and measure (which he doesn't quite have down yet). But he sure knows where everything comes from and everything goes. He is my sous chef from the moment he asks, "Help you momma?"

Recently, I have realized that baking with Behr is more than giving him joy. It is connecting him to my past, my heritage. As he places the muffin liners in the tin, I want to grab him by the cheeks and say (maybe I even feel the urge to happy scream), "Do you know how many hands that love you have done this very task!?!"

My Yia-yia, and her mom (Big Yia-yia) and her sisters, and her boys, one of which is your Popouli, and me, little girl me, in pencil straight jeans when flairs were cool in jumpers and pretty party dresses and most definitely in mesh shorts, oh the mesh shorts, and your aunts and uncle, Julia, Michael, and Brooke, all of our hands stood over these muffin trays and did this very same thing. This very same thing! We placed the tins in and popped them down if they started to slide up.

Just like you Behr, just like you. 

My Big Yia-yia taught me how to make family recipes, swoon-worthy greek pastries, with measurements by the green-mug-with-the-broken-handle-full. It doesn't have to be perfect, but it does have to be right.

Here are a few things my Yia-Yia taught me about baking:

1. Make a day of it. Greek cooking takes a long time. This is the most valuable lesson I have carried over into baking with Behr. Make a day of it

2. Measure twice. She measured it out, and then I measured it in. The bowl of flour that I pulled from already had the correct amount, so I was never at risk for ruining anything. But as a girl, I felt like I was given the ultimate responsibility.

3. Taste along the way, it makes it more fun. And don't worry about the raw eggs in the batter, it never hurt her.

4. Bake more. Always. You never know who might be coming over for dinner. Thanks to Yia-yia I have enough food to feed a small army for the winter. And most definitely enough ingredients for a little impromptu baking.

5. Sing while you cook, and cover it in love. Her avgolemono soupa requires kissing the air  "tks, tks, tks, tks, tks" when you mix the eggs into the hot broth, because kissing prevents the sour, and when there isn't sour, things don't curdle.

A few cooking lessons, a life time of teaching. My heritage. 

Linking Up with The Good Life

The Support of Family

Lately our lives have been full of family. Weekends are packed with visits and visitors. Hudson is content to be held all day. Behr has thoroughly enjoyed the attention. He is hamming it up. He is also taking it all in, sport lessons included. Soccer, golf, baseball and basketball all have found new homes in my son's heart. But family still comes first. The best outcome of these visits is the love that has overwhelmed Behr. He asks and prays for (in one long sentence) Momma, Dad, Hudson, Grandmom, Grandpop, Uncle Ben, Uncle Mike, Yia-yia and Popouli, Brookie, Julia, and cousin Sam and the firetrucks.  Behr loves to pray for our family and the firetrucks, but that is a story for another day.

We moved from Boston to DC six years ago to be closer to family. The past eleven weeks have reaffirmed that move. Now if only I could figure out how to put our family right next door so that when Behr wakes up at 5:30 in the morning he can knock on their door. just like he did to my parents each morning this past weekend. I am so thankful. So very thankful for the support of family.

I am linking up with Blair from Wild and Precious for Life Lately.

Family Legacy

Mark and I both had family members pass away rather suddenly this past weekend. And while these family members had lived long full lives, the grief is still real. As we were processing, I was reminded of a post I wrote for Naptime Diaries about the lessons of family. We are both so blessed by the stories of the family that has come before us, the lessons they have shared, and the legacy they leave with us. I hope you enjoy the post below. (originally posted here, December 2011)  

Hi! My name is Shannon from The Scribble Pad. I am thrilled to be here on Naptime Diaries. I am a wife and momma but first and formost, a daughter of Christ. I am so glad to be here sharing with you all, and hope to continue to see you all around blog-land and maybe even real life!

My Grandmothers

My grandmom was a florist and a gardener. As a little girl, I would sit in her shop and watch as she magically arranged flowers. We would wake up early on the weekend and ride to churches to decorate for weddings, me in the back of the van holding the buckets from tipping over. It is with my grandmother that I began to travel. She hosted all of the family parties. From her I gained my taste for all things savory, strong cheeses, the benefits of wine, and my appreciation of fresh seafood.

grandmom holding me, my son makes this very same face!

My Yia-yia taught me our family favorite recipes. To this day, I cannot bake a cake, but I can spend days making Greek pastries and feel her next to me as I pour the butter and roll the phyllo dough. I can make these by heart, feeling for the measurements but still insist on reading her scrawl, half in English, half in Greek, and measured in mug-fulls. As I dance around our apartment with Behr, it is because this is what Yia-yia did with us, we sang, and danced, and laughed.

Yia-yia when we were making baklava for my wedding.

And then another grandmother came into my life. My cousin’s grandmother. She asked me about books, taught me about letter writing, and gave me my first calligraphy pen when I was just in elementary school.

Fast forward 20+ years and here I am, doing calligraphy and coordinating weddings, sending 200+ Christmas cards each year, and opening my etsy shop of hand-stamped note cards, so you too can share the joy of letter writing with those you love. Even up until a few years ago, I never would have imagined how significantly all three of these women would have impacted my life.

As I have plunged into motherhood, I am reminded of my own mother. I cannot even begin to name the ways she has and continues to bless me and teach me. But what I am most grateful for is that she allowed these three strong women, my “grandmothers,” to come along side her and help.

She didn’t always agree with everything they said or did; I know this now. But she guarded me from any animosity. She let these women come into my life and mold and shape me.

It is not always easy to let others impact your children. I wrestle with this daily. But I am reminded by the incredible impact that others can have. And so I pray that our family is surrounded by the blessings that helped raise me.

Thanks so much for reading my story.

If you want to chat about this or other journeys of motherhood, feel free to contact me.

Remembering Yia-yia

A generation has passed. In saying goodbye to Yia-yia, a chapter of my family closed. All of my grandparents have passed away. It is something I never realized would happen. That sounds crazy. People die. But the concept never really sunk in.

Growing up, I had the blessing of knowing not only my four grandparents, but also three great-grandmothers. In fact, one of my great-grandmothers lived until my senior year of college, knew Mark well, and often would tease him for great-great-grandkids even though we weren't married yet.

I always pictured my own children having the same experience.

Behr will not listen to my Yia-yia singing in Greek. He will never eat her cooking, although my sisters and I will try our best to replicate the recipes she spent years teaching us. Behr will not learn his exercises from Yia-yia, nor will he learn anything else directly from my grandparents. It is my responsibility to carry on their legacy, to share their story, to pass down the lessons.

Yia-yia was a constant in my life. She was at our dinner table several nights a week, she joined us on nearly every family vacation, and fortunately she taught simple lessons early and often. I had the opportunity to give remarks at her memorial, and here is what I remembered:

Always be prepared to feed your guests. If you and your family came over my house unexpectedly, while I may get flustered, I will have enough food to feed you. (even if your family dinners are like mine, about 20 people!)

The importance of saying I love you. Yia-yia said I love you often. She made us pause and look her in the eye when she told us, just to be certain we were hearing her. This came full circle for me when she sent a post card to Mark while we were dating. The post card mentioned the weather and other unimportant facts, but ended with three words that meant the world. "I love you" from Yia-yia gave Mark permission to marry me long before he ever talked to my Dad.

Always exercise. Even after her first stroke, Yia-yia continued to do her exercises. Arms up and down and touch the ground, up and down and touch the ground. I may always be able to hear her repeating this mantra.

In addition to exercising, it is important to have the right attitude, "Accentuate the positive, eliminated the negative, latch on to to the affirmative, and don't mess with Mr. In-between."

And perhaps most importantly, when my kids are sick, all they will need is a healthy dose of homemade avgalemeno soup and a few Shirley Temple movies.

Thank you for the incredible kindness you expressed over the past few weeks. 

Leading and Chasing

This post was written last week.  Since then, I wrote my yia-yia post and realized that a lot of the emotion of this year is coming to a head as the holiday's approach.  But in an effort to be more open, here we go.

This year has been marked by ups and downs and sudden twists and turns. I have found myself full of confidence, feeling on top of the world and then wallowing in tears no doubt heightened by hormonal imbalances. Disclaimer: In case you haven't noticed, this post is about to get personal.

The times I feel like I am leading are the best. Dinners are made, the house gets cleaned, blog posts are scheduled, Mark and I have time to catch up, Behr and I arrive to daycare and work on time, and my anxiety level is low. Hint: when CSA inspired blog posts reach their peak, I am doing well and my family is eating healthy. When you haven’t seen one in a while it is because I can’t find the time to cook.

When I am leading, things just seem to hum along.

And then, without any warning I slip into chasing mode. Whether it is caused by exhaustion, or grief, or simply life’s challenges, I begin to chase. It is at this point, when I am feeling my lowest, that I begin to question why I blog. I catch glimmers of twitter updates and facebook statuses in fleeting minutes on my blackberry, wishing I had time to contribute, to be part of the conversation. This is when the self doubt slips in and I wonder if my presence isn’t wanted. I begin to chase after friends and other bloggers, begging for their acceptance.  All of this also happens with real life, but it isn't as clear to explain.

I am a people pleaser, yearning for acceptance in all of the wrong places.

I also chase people away.

Chasing makes me want to hurry up and get back on the horse and run away to the beach to spend hours counting sand all at the same time.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a wonderfully supportive family and incredible friends, but everyone seems to be far away with never is time to fully catch up. So often it is me that doesn’t have enough time; that has an overly full schedule and won’t take time to rest.  I hurt the people closest to me when I slip into chasing mode.  And then, I blame them.

I am grateful that throughout this year of so much change, my faith has remained constant. My conversations with God are frequent, time I spend it prayerful reflection is fulfilling, but I am still so prone to stumble.

And so I feel caught in a cycle of leading and chasing.  Do you get caught in cycles too?

Cherishing Moments

Grandparents can be the best adults to little kids.  They come over, play games, swoon over you, and bring gifts. My grandparents had an every day role in my life. They visited frequently, ate dinner with us several nights a week, taught us how to bake and garden, and cheered for all of our sports. I am grateful for the relationship the my parents fostered.  I am grateful that both sets of grandparents were involved in everything.  That is what has made the past two years so hard.

I never thought that my grandparents wouldn't be around. I realize now that over their past few years, with good health, I took their presence for granted.  And now I am cherishing the moments I have left.

My Yia-yia has loved on me and now she loves on Behr. I send her cards with pictures of Behr and she kisses them every chance she gets.  When she met Behr for the first time, she couldn't stop crying at her precious koukla, darling, beautiful, doll.  The name she referred to my siblings and me when we were little kids running through her house.

february 2011 ~ three weeks old

august 2011 ~ 31 weeks
don't mind their crazy faces, they were thrilled to see each other

And so now, as the holiday's approach and I realize how much I am missing my family, I am going to cherish the moments that we get before they are gone.

Learning to Grieve

Grandmom and Aunt Mary in 1986

This past year has marked the passing of my Grandfather, Aunt, and Grandmother all on my Mom's side of the family.  As 2010 began, I never would have imagined that by June of 2011, these three pillars of our family would be gone.  I am realizing for the first time, that grief is an emotion that evolves.  Here is what I am learning as I wade through this season of grief.

Grief is sharp.  It is instantly painful.
When grief hits, there is not easing in and out of the emotion.  It is an overwhelming power that brings me to my knees. 

Grief is surprising.
It catches you at the most unexpected times.  The barrista at Starbucks this morning asked me if I had a fabulous weekend, and I welled up with tears.  The weekend was full of celebration, my sister's graduation, my cousin's 2nd birthday, and although we had my grandmother's viewing, we made every effort to celebrate her life.  And yet, asking if I had a good weekend still brought me to tears.

Knowing doesn't help.
Our family made the decision to keep my grandmother comfortable rather than aggressively fight her cancer.  Alzheimer's was already stealing her from us.  A brutal fight against cancer wasn't fair to ask of her.  And yet, knowing for weeks that her passing was eminent didn't make the intensity of reality any easier.  I always thought it would...

Children are one of the best medicine's for grief. 
My three and half year old cousin Emma came and gave me a hug at the viewing.  Emma then promptly let me know that we could both paint our toenails rainbow to match so we could be happy.  Adorable.  Behr has also been a comforting champ!

God's timing doesn't make sense.
And yet, we can rest in his promise that his timing is perfect.  I had a very hard time when a trip to tell our family we were pregnant became a weekend marked by the very sudden loss of my grandfather.  And yet, now I am grateful that he didn't have to watch my Aunt Mary and Grandmother suffer and pass before him. 
 

Grief makes God's promise ever more true.
The promise of a life to come is the only comfort I can find.  God is a comforter.  I am grateful for the small gifts I see today - a bird chirpping at my window the morning Grandmom passed away, being home last Wednesday instead of at the office so I could see Behr roll over for the first time.  These little moments are just a glimmer of the glory that is to come. 

Today we remember...

pop-pop's interment at arlington

My grandfather, Ret. Lt. Col. Leo Paradise

Died - May 2010

Laid to Rest at Arlington - September 2010

My aunt, First Sgt. Mary Baldino

Died - March 2011

To be Laid to Rest - June 2011

I love you both so very much!

In Memory: Ret. Lt. Col. Leo James Paradise

Today, my family is gathering at Arlington National Cemetery for the internment of my grandfather Ret. Lt. Col. Leo James Paradise.  He passed away in May at the age of 82.

Joining us at Arlington will be my grandmother, Pop-pop's 7 children, their spouses, and many of my cousins and extended family. 

Pop-pop was a proud graduate of the University of Notre Dame and cheered for the Fighting Irish with every opportunity.  He was also a U.S. Army veteran of World War II, the Korean War and Vietnam.

Thank You Veterans

Thank you to all of our service men and women. To those who are active, retired, in the reserves, or who have fallen serving or country. Thank you for your sacrifices which will not be in vein. Thank you to the families who let their loved ones serve and stood strong be their side at home.

Coming from a military family, I have memories which will forever be ingrained. I hope and pray these memories continue to urge me towards constant gratitude for both my family, and every other family that is making similar sacrifices year after year so that we can be free.

Today I thank my family:

Lieutenant Colonel Leo Paradise, served in the Army and the Navy
Sergeant First Class James Paradise, served in the Army
Sergeant First Class Mary Baldino, served in the Army
Sergeant Mark Baldino, served in the Army
Captain Robert Paradise, served in the Army
Captain Robin Paradise, served in the Army
Private George Jacob, served in the Marine Corps

Pennsylvania

Last weekend we went to PA and had time to catch up with everyone. First we celebrated Michael's graduation with a huge party. It was absolutely insane! I promise, the "Top 10 Most Outrageous Things about an Angelos Party"...coming soon! The party was a great time to see the family. Grandmom, Pop-Pop and Yia-yia were all there and doing well. Aunts, uncles, cousins, old neighbors were all there. I think we had over 100 people. The party was packed! Brian, Mike and Kelsey came over and we had fun playing horse shoes. Mark and the guys clearly had the upper hand, but every once in a while Kelsey or I tossed a ringer. It was great to see them.

Once the party finally started to wind down, we were able to hang out with Sarah. Seeing an opportunity to escape the Angelos household chaos, we headed to Burlap and Bean. It is this great coffee shop in Newtown Square run my some Messiah grads. Mark and I are trying to convince them to open one on Capitol Hill. We love it! Unfortunately, we don't get to frequent it enough, seeing how it is over 100 miles from where we live! :-) We usually try to buy a few bags of beans to hold us over from one visit to the next. It is really that good. It could cure me of my starbucks addiction!

Anyway, Saturday happened to be a mic night and we walked into the coffee shop during a lull in a song (literally dead silence). It was AWKWARD. Oh man, it was awekward. Everyone stared. Sarah and I could not stop giggling. The guy singing just stopped and stared...it was hillarious. So we decided to move our party outside where we proceeded to sit on the curb and drink our coffee.
On Sunday, Faith, Kyle and Noah came to visit. It was wonderful to see them all. Aside from being a bit sleep deprived, everything seems to be going well for the new family. Here are some pictures of the little guy:

As you can see, Noah is precious. When he stretches his arms above his head, we curls his hands in as if he is stretching. It is adorable. We are so happy for Faith and Kyle! You can already tell that they make terrific parents.

Yia-Yia

This is a picture of Yia-Yia helping me make Baklava before the wedding. (notice her styled coif) She is always up to something when she is in my mom's kitchen, from cooking, to dancing, to insisting on doing all of the dishes without any help, so the rest of us can watch football. Yia-yia has taught Julia, Brooke and I all of the family recipes and years of her cooking secrets, which we never would have learned without her.

On Mother's Day, I found out she had a stroke and was in intensive care. Fortunately, she was at my parent's house when she had the stroke, so they were able to get her to the hospital right away. Mark and I drove up to PA to visit her. It was so hard to see her in ICU because Yia-Yia is always full of energy bouncing around doing her "exercises" even at 83! After a week in the hospital, she was moved to one of the area's best rehab centers. We were able to visit her again this past weekend on her first day in rehab. Things confuse her more than they used to, and she is working hard to regain strength and mobility on the right side of her body. But even while in the hospital, Yia-yia is still feisty and telling lots jokes to ensure that we all keep laughing! Please keep Yia-yia in your prayers as she works to regain her strength.