When I was a young mom, about 40-something years ago, I wanted everything to be perfect. I made homemade soups, something my Italian mother-in-law taught me. Pastina with teeny little meatballs. I used to make fresh carrots and peas and put them in the blender — nothing was too good for my babies. At 3pm, every day, I would start the homemade dinner meal — all was fresh; spaghetti sauce from scratch — beef sauteed for hours in the sauce — and, I wasn’t even Italian. But being married to one, I gave it my best shot! So the other day, I was talking to one of my daughters about the good ol’ days and she said, “We used to pray for the fish-sticks-and-tater-tots-with-ketchup days.”

I am learning that my perception of my childrens’ upbringing isn’t even close to theirs.  If only my Mom was still alive. I’d love to ask her what her perception of my upbringing was.  One of my favorite memories: eating a Swanson’s TV dinner which had been placed on a tiny bar stool, placed in front of me while I sat on the couch with the rest of my family, and we would watch the Ed Sullivan Show together.