I have been reminded as of late that family takes on all shapes and sizes. In a global society we truly are one people full of seven degrees of separation, (often less) and many many Kevin Bacon moments.

All this has brought back in to focus for me the term family. Whether it be “traditional”, friends as close as family or the family we all create for ourselves and find on our journey in life there is no “correct” answer. I am reminded of my own blended family, whom I cherish, and it got me reminisicing about my wedding day. The following is my wedding short “film” from almost five years ago. The fillmaker I hired REFUSED to let his work be called a wedding video. I look back and watch and smile,  I was becoming a new Wife and Stepmom determined to do the right thing and so very nervous.  My husband’s name is Ettore Ravazzolo. People hear his first name and think it is his last, so I tease that I became Mrs. Ettore.

The day was Sactown HOT at 112 degrees and only Ettore can pull off a seafood bar in 110 degree heat. I really wanted to combine American culture with Ettore’s Swiss background, look for the HUGE wheel of Swiss Cheese that took three people to carry, the yodeler for the Swiss influence and then me rocking the mic later in the video to Tina Turner.

It was a great day despite Ettore and I being deathly ill and me having a stress attack and mis-placing the wedding rings one hour before the ceremony…”Oh my God, need to calm down…I need to seriously CHILL OUT…I lost the rings…I lost the rings.” An eternal nod of gratitude to my friend Kristy Osborne for not only telling me to chill out, but she also found my rings and did my hair. Thanks sista’.

We’ve all come a long way baby. Here’s is to family!

Meggan:  “Is one of them, figure out how to divorce your husband?”

Ettore:  “No.”

Meggan:  “Then keep the list to yourself.”

Ettore:  “I love you.”

Meggan:  “I love you too.”

Ettore just got these wireless headphones for when he watches television.  He lovingly told me that the headphones would benefit the FAMILY because this way we won’t be disturbed by the television.

I actually think they benefit Ettore so he won’t be disturbed BY THE FAMILY when he is watching television. 

I swear I am going to catch him wearing those and the T.V. won’t even be on.  Ettore probably stole those headphones off a guy directing planes in at the airport. 

Yes, we are that loud.

Moooo

Ettore and I recently celebrated our third wedding anniversary.  I asked Ettore if he still liked being married to me.

Big mistake.

Me:  “Ettore, we have been married three years.  Can you believe it?  AMAZING.”

Ettore:  “Yep.”

Me:  “Three years! That’s a long time.  Do you still like being married to me now as much as you did when we first got married?”

Ettore:  “Well, It’s different now.”

Me:  “What do you mean?”

Ettore:  “Well, when I first married you, you were like a lean beautiful filet mignon.”

Me:  “Ummm…”

Ettore: “Now you are like a good aged steak with a lot of marbling.”

Me:  “Ummm…WHAT?!”

Ettore:   “Man cannot have filet everyday.  You need a marbled steak.”

Me:  “Are you saying I’m fat?”

Ettore:  “No no.  Marbling increases the flavor.  Aging develops the steak.  I appreciate your flavors more now.  Filet everyday is boring.”

Me: “Uh-huh. Sigh.  Happy third anniversary.”

Ettore:  “You too sweetheart. I love you. Where do you want to go to dinner?”

Me:  “I’m not hungry.”

I would of preferred a steaming cup of coffee to greet me in the morning, but when you live with a European Chef, you get a cow’s tongue. 

Lucas woke up early the other morning.  I begrudingly plodded down the stairs bleary eyed and bathrobed ready to start my day.  The last thing I thought I would see when I opened up our refrigerator was a COW’S TONGUE.  It took a few seconds to register then…”OH MY GAWD!!!  ETTOREEEEEEEE!!! 

There was only one person responsible for this, my European Chef husband. 

Me:  “What the hell is that in our fridge?”

Ettore: “It’s a delicacy.”

Me:  “Is that a cow tongue?”

Ettore:  “It’s fantastic with green beans.”

Me:  “UGH, Is THAT a cow tongue?”

Ettore:  “No.”

Me:  “What is that then.”

Ettore:  “It’s a beef tongue.”

Me:  “Isn’t beef…cow?”

Despite it still being before sunrise (and before I had my coffee), my husband went on to extol the virtues of beef, not cow, tongue.  How you prepare it  (I will spare the details), what it is good served with (green beans), and why it is delicious (I am taking his word for it).  So there the tongue sits in our fridge.  When you live with a chef, your refrigerator always looks like a bachelor’s fridge with a slight twist.  Water, condiments, eggs, and cow tongue.

Last night was a bit awkward when I was giving our sitter the rundown of the house before we went to dinner.  “Here are our emergency numbers, have Lucas in bed by 8:30, and help yourself to whatever you want in the fridge…and FYI heads up for the cow tongue, although if you want it you are welcome to that too.”  She didn’t want it.  Ettore was kind enough to hide the tongue behind some water bottles.

Ettore is so excited about the tongue though, I don’t want freak out and make him feel bad.  It is just instinct.  It is like when I was a kid and my cat Puffets would kill a mouse and bring it into the house to show me.  Puffets just wanted to make me proud. She was doing what came naturally and proving her hunting prowess.  As grossed out as I was, I  was always extra careful not to scream and run.  I didn’t want to hurt her feelings.  Ettore is a chef, it is his instinct to love and share all kinds of food.  So there will be no running from the house screaming.  Besides, when I did run and scream Puffets would just chase me with the mouse. I can’t have Ettore chasing me with that cow tongue.  It is all kinds of wrong, on so many levels.

Daddy and Lucas taking out the trash.  Next we are going to teach Lucas how to vacuum out the cars.

Me:  “Happy 5th Meeting Anniversary Pookie.”

Ettore: ”What do you think brought us together?”:

Me:  “Fate.”

Ettore:  “What do you think keeps us together?”

Me:  “An overpriced condo that we are upside down in and can’t get out of during a recession.”

Ettore:  “Besides that.”

Me:  “Love.”

Ettore:  “That’s right.  Love.”

My husband Ettore got these Pez dispensers for us when we first started dating.  I am Peppermint Patty and he is Charlie Brown.  We haven’t seen each other much lately because I have been staying at my Mom’s with Lucas, since Lucas got sick.   I was able to come home briefly today and these Pez were waiting for me on my pillow…I think my husband is trying to tell me something…I wonder what it could be?

Dancing Queens…Ravazzolo Family Style

If you too would like to speak Teenage Stepson and Teenage Stepson’s Father I would like to give you a few hints.  Silence is the key and both languages use it quite often, but they mean totally different things.  For Teenage Stepson silence always means YES.  For instance, ask your teenage stepson if he got his report card….silence.  That means yes he did get it, often two weeks ago.  Ask your teenage stepson if he dented the car….silence.  That means yes,  again probably two weeks ago.  Ask your teenage stepson if that cute girl he was walking next to after school is the same girl he (not so) secretly texts till 2:00 a.m……silence.  That definetly means yes.     

Teenage Stepson’s Father is exactly the opposite.  Silence means no.  For instance, your teenage stepson asks his Father for twenty dollars….silence.  That means no.  Your teenage stepson asks his Father to borrow the car (the same one he will return with the bumper dented) and…..silence.  Again that’s a no. 

As an interpreter of Teenage Stepson and Teenage Stepson’s Father one of my primary duties is to bridge the communication gap between the two parties.  Often deciphering for the other what amounts to only a series of grunts and muffled slurs.  Also it should be noted that a peculiar hearing loss occurs in all teenage stepsons and the Father of teenage stepsons.  Before a boy becomes a teenager his hearing, as well as the hearing of his Father, seems to be just fine.  However, once the teen years hit, a most odd hearing loss occurs.  Don’t worry in almost all cases the day the teenage stepson turns twenty all hearing for both seems to miraculously return.  That being noted, a conversation usually goes something like this.

Harrison (teenage stepson):  “Wassup?”

Ettore (teenage stepson’s Father):  “What?!  What’s up where?”

Meggan (Interpreter de fabulousness):  ”Harrison is saying hello.”

Ettore:“Pffft.” (Blows air signaling frustration)  “Hello son.”

Harrison:  “What?”

Meggan:  “Your Father is greeting you back.”

Harrison:  “Huh.”  “Oh.” (That means thank you for picking me up from school).  NOTE: Whenever you see your teenage stepson within twenty seconds of greeting each other the conversation will almost ALWAYS turn to food.   “SOOO, what’s the 411 on food tonight?”

Ettore:  “What?”

Meggan:  “Harrison wants to know what we are having for dinner.”

Ettore:  “Grrrrrr.”

Harrison:  “What?”

Meggan:  “Your Dad thinks we should eat at home tonight.  Eating out is expensive.”

Harrison:  “Whatever.”

Ettore:  “What?”

Meggan:  “Harrison says, eating at home is fine.” 

Ettore and Harrison:  “mrrph…pfft…uh…heh.”  That means I love you Dad and I love you son.    You get the point.  As an interpreter of both Teenage Stepson and Teenage Son’s Father you have to walk between two worlds, but trust me it is a journey worth taking.