Meatball Mission: Complete (sort of)

Just a little update to my last post as I find the irony hysterical.

I kept my promise and made homemade meatballs with my boys last night—It wasn’t really planned, honestly.  I had a baked ziti and chicken stuffed with asparagus in the oven (I know you are probably all in shock right now since I so publicly noted how I wasn’t so astute in the cooking department)—but I had the time and if you are Italian you certainly understand that Sunday dinners are more special and seem to be deserving of a little extra LOVE. (Side note: I miss my entire family going over my grandmother’s for Sunday dinner and spending endless hours eating and listening to all the gossip. Those really are some of my best childhood memories) Anywho… we already had more than enough food for dinner—but Hey! I’m Italian and not sure if “enough food” is part of the vocabulary.  So…knowing that I had all the ingredients for meatballs and have had a meatball obsession since my last blog post, I had to comply. 

I asked Sean and Josh to go wash their hands—and in pure “Gina form” I must admit –I didn’t have a recipe. I know I said I would use one—but how hard could this be? I remember making meatballs with my mom and know what ingredients she used to add—so I went off of memory. 1lb ground hamburger, 2 eggs, garlic powder, bread crumbs, parmesan cheese—that was it.   It was so adorable to see the excitement on Sean and Josh’s little faces when I told them that they were going to help me make meatballs. After the quizzical look they gave me of course when they didn’t see me pull a bag out of the freezer. NEVER AGAIN.

They were a little freaked out watching me use my bare hands to blend everything together.  But quickly seemed to forget that and were so adorable smiling away as they rolled them—then of course it became about who could make more than the other—who was not making them big enough— Of course I couldn't expect this to totally be picture perfect moment right?  But for that moment when we all were rolling away, I savored it.  To me it was special. What meant even more was that Jason even participated in the fun. This was a true family affair and I am still smiling.

The kicker…

We all sat down to eat together—Sean asked for two meatballs while Josh only wanted one.  They ate all their baked ziti…..Josh, who never eats, even asked for seconds….but NEITHER of them actually ate their meatballs!!!! What??!!! I asked Sean (who loves meatballs)—“you didn’t eat your meatballs?” He said—“I don’t think I want to”. Um…ok? Same for Josh. Sigh.

Maybe the experience of seeing the raw meat was too much? I don’t know—I find this so amusing because I will admit this……..I never liked my mom’s meatballs (My mom is fully aware of this.  Please don’t think I am crushing her as you read this). I guess payback is a “you –know- what”.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way—because this is just so much more fun to write about—and I know my mom has something to smile about in the irony of all this.

Now if you are asking how the meatballs turned out—very good I must say—next time, and there WILL be a next time whether the boys eat them or not, I think I will use a little less breadcrumbs.  Hey, this is a work in progress, but at least I started.  And more importantly I lived in that moment with the kids-enjoyed them making the meatballs with me…so the fact that they wouldn’t go near them doesn’t deter me from trying again. 

Maybe next time I’ll invite my mom over and see what happens there…J

Thanks for coming along on this meatball journey with me.

Xo

Gina

No More Frozen Meatballs

"What would you do if you weren’t afraid?"

Oprah asked this question on her Life Class webcast this past Monday night.  I have been thinking about it ever since. 

The first question I asked myself is what are we all afraid of? What am I afraid of?

I think I have a laundry list here…let’s start with spiders. I am deathly afraid of spiders-not sure exactly why but they creep me out and make my heart race.  I am afraid of Dexter Morgan following me while wearing his famous brown shirt—that’s never a good sign.  But seriously, I am fearful of heights, drowning, crashing, sickness, throwing up, driving in NYC, rejection, death, spiders, losing a loved one, my own cooking sometimes…ok most times because as my husband, Jason, will attest to—I hardly go off of recipes and just throw concoctions together—watch Jason and the boys eat it and then try to act like it is the best thing I have ever created.  I need to follow recipes. That’s what they are there for right? Why should I feel extra pressure? Just because I am a full blooded Italian, my two grandmothers and my mom could cook their pants off….oh yeah and my dad’s just an executive chef with a laundry list of credentials.  It is in my blood somewhere—my sister was blessed with it—she is a natural little Miss Betty Crocker and is so good at it.  I just haven’t found it—or is it more that I just don’t have the time to dedicate to it?

Why? Because of time. I am afraid of time …all the time… there is never enough time it seems and I am afraid that I am letting the little things and special moments pass me by…such as rolling meatballs with my kids—(handmade using a recipe of course)—not frozen. OMG I can’t believe I just put that in writing—I am so ashamed—but I admit it.  The frozen meatballs were actually not half bad though.  Oh the guilt. The shame.

I digress….where was I? Oh yes...Not having enough time…afraid that busy schedules prevent us from enjoying life’s moments—which is really why we are here.  I am afraid that the clock just keeps ticking away and maybe I am not truly living…laughing…loving…to the fullest.

So what would I do if I wasn’t afraid? I seriously am frozen and just stare at this question. I am afraid to even answer it. Let’s just assume that money is out of the equation as I believe obviously this is a huge factor here that may not have anything to do with our fears but certainly can hold us back.

Ok here we go…baby steps…

I would start and advice column.  I would then move on to a radio advice show—I know I would be great at it and I would feel fulfilled.  I would write a book.   I would jump out of a plane. (deep sigh) I would most definitely have more fun. I would let some people go that weigh me down, put me down, heck I would accept them and not internalize it. I would say NO a lot more, not that I am afraid to say no but I am afraid of the reaction from others if I took more control and said no. I would take more time for me.  Wow—that was not a baby step at all.  Speaking of babies…I would have another—yes I would—but I am afraid. Afraid to push my luck. I have two handsome, eat- up- their–faces little boys, my Sean and my Josh, that I love to death. They are healthy. I am afraid to have another and take a gamble that one more may not be. Hmmmm. I am speechless.  This question sure does pack a punch. Gives me a lot to think about for sure.

What I am realizing just writing this down is that almost everything I listed—I have control over.  I can certainly avoid spiders, learn to cook, take a cab in NYC, learn to say NO a little more, take more time for myself (this is where that maid could come in handy J), enjoy life as much as I can. I control how and when I can put myself out there and start an advice column. Right? Right. So what’s stopping me? I guess nothing….it is time to take action.  Fear keeps us frozen. 

Frozen like frozen meatballs…what fun are they? Making meatballs from scratch, getting right down in there and rolling them is half the fun.  If they are non-edible?—well at least I tried—I didn’t settle for someone else’s idea of a meatball and I can keep practicing until perfect. It is the same with life. Who knew how profound a statement about meatballs could be?! I am on a meatball mission now and then the rest of my fears will be conquered.

I am more afraid of one day being in my late 70’s sitting in a hair salon, getting my hair set and blow dried for the week…yes that’s right…and thinking while under the drier…I wish I did this, I should’ve done that. I never made meatballs with my boys.  That will not be me. I promise that right now. 

What’s stopping you from doing what you are afraid of? I answered my questions.

Your turn.

Thanks for listening,

Xo

Gina