Let Me Tell You Something (11 page)

By enlisting the help of the school community and getting them more involved in my child's well-being, I created a win-win scenario: I could be a better parent, and my son stayed out of trouble and could focus on his schooling.

Lauren was very quiet—she only came out of her shell after high school—but she was also very popular. She moved among the cliques, with friends in all of them even though she didn't belong to any of them. The only issues I had with Lauren were the typical “mean girl” issues we're all too familiar with—hey, even on the
Real Housewives
this issue has a way of rearing its ugly head (if only
we
had guidance counselors!). Every now and then, I would ask the guidance counselor if she had noticed any bullying, so I could keep tabs on any situations that might crop up. Lauren was lucky, and she learned to stand up for herself early on. She understood that mean girls are only as powerful as you let them be. This motto has also been my mantra for the entire time I've been doing the show. These days, Lauren is almost as bulletproof as I am!

Now Albie was a different story. In third grade Albie came home one day and started bragging that he got away with not completing a report. Instead of using the month he was given to work on the assignment, on the day it was due he charmed the teacher and convinced her to let him get up in front of the class and sing a song and tell some jokes in place of handing in written work. I couldn't believe it, but she had said yes! I mean, he had the balls to get up and do whatever he had to do to get a grade, and he did it. But the bottom line is that he didn't do the job he was supposed to do. I told him I was proud of him that he'd thought on his feet but ultimately he hadn't done his assignment.

He was supposed to have done a report on tigers. So I told him he was going to do a report on tigers for the toughest teacher around—me! I went with him to the library and sat with him while he checked out books and made notes and photocopied pictures. I needed him to know that being a smart-ass wasn't something he could rely on for the rest of his life.

Sometimes Mom could be tougher than the teachers, and with good reason. Like the time the boys were playing wall ball at school. Wall ball is a popular game that kids in Jersey play, but it was banned at school. Albie and his friends broke the rules, played, Albie ended up getting hurt, and the boys got caught. The principal called me to tell me he was going to suspend all the kids who were playing except Albie, because he was home from school with a concussion. “No, no, no,” I said. “Wait 'til Albie gets back to school and suspend them all at once!”

The principal couldn't believe what he was hearing—a parent asking for her child to be suspended? But I was adamant. Just because he got hurt didn't mean he shouldn't be punished. Poor Albie? No, Albie was just as guilty as the other boys. He went back to school, and they all got punished together.

Once kids hit middle-school age, they're old enough to take responsibility for getting their assignments turned in on time, and they're generally better able to stick up for themselves. I backed off a lot at that time, but I still got updates from my kids every single day regarding class participation, homework assignments, and anything else going on in their lives. From then on, teachers played a small part when it came to discipline and punishment, but I was never afraid to enlist their help when I needed it.

Be a parent now. You can't
press “rewind” later.

Your kids aren't born with a rewind button. If only! From the moment you find out you're carrying that baby, your life changes forever (in more ways than not drinking, smoking . . . ), because you are now fully responsible for another person. For me, I knew being a mom was more than making sure my children were healthy and happy. I also wanted to be there for them every step of the way. You only get one shot with each kid, and I didn't want to miss any moment.

I've worked my entire life, and I've worked hard. But I was able to find the right balance between being a mommy and being a businesswoman. Switching between the two wasn't always easy, but it was important for me to be completely present when I was with my children. When the kids started school I sold real estate. I would get up early every morning to spend quality time with them before they headed off, but as soon as I dropped them at school, I switched into professional mode. I'd race all over North Jersey showing houses and taking clients around. It was not always easy to get up so early, but I made a point to keep a clockwork schedule, arranging my days in such a way so I was always done working in time to be out front of the school waiting for them at three o'clock.

From the moment I picked them up at school, I was Mommy again. I was home with them for the rest of the day, and when I was home with them, I was really
with
them. That means I put my phone down and turned off the computer. We would play, we'd talk about what they'd done that day; we'd eat and laugh.

When I tucked the kids into bed each night, I would once again switch back into being a businesswoman. I'd get on the computer, send e-mails to clients, set up appointments for showings, and coordinate complicated real estate sales until Al got home from The Brownstone. Then he and I would have our time together. I barely slept and I was always tired, but I was happy and I felt like I was there for my kids.

Every now and then, we'd get a sitter and have a night to ourselves. We'd let the kids stay up a bit later on those nights, and make it a little special for them. We generally only did this occasionally to catch up with other adult friends or see a movie that wasn't right for the kids. Most of the time, though, I wanted my kids around me.

In the back of my mind, I always knew my kids were truly only “mine” for a fixed time before they became adults and started lives of their own. Being aware of that influenced the decisions I made as a parent. I never wanted to miss those special moments with them, and some of the most memorable times were the ordinary nights spent around our kitchen table.

I also never wanted to vacation without them. Many of the other local kids went on these all-summer-long trips by themselves to different countries while their parents would have a kid-free summer. Everybody got a break, but I never understood it. Because Al worked so much, being able to have time together as a family was always so precious. I never even sent my kids away to camp, partially because Italians don't do camp, but also because we went on family vacations. Road trips. Up to Cape Cod, down to Cape May. They were great times. I will treasure those memories forever.

Because I understood that my kids' childhoods were fleeting, and I knew I could not press some button to turn back the clock, it never felt like a chore for me to go and watch a hockey game, a school play, or a dance recital. I didn't feel obligated to do these things; I wanted to. Every parent knows how tedious a school play can be when your own kid isn't actually on the stage. But as soon as we would get home, it was always clear that my kids were thrilled that I'd been there for them. We could then talk, laugh, and gossip about their performances. I still remember watching Lauren, wearing some crazy outfit while hip-hop dancing to 'N Sync. She had the biggest smile while she pulled off all these complicated moves.

I hardly ever missed anything that my kids did, and I still deeply regret the things I did miss. I couldn't be at one of Lauren's dance recitals when she was six because my sister had a destination wedding—no kids invited. I felt terrible about it. I went to Lauren's full dress rehearsal the night before we left and made sure every member of my husband's family was at the actual recital.

It didn't matter. Lauren was so devastated that Al and I weren't there she never wanted to dance again. She literally stopped dancing and didn't pick it up again until middle school. She still talks about it to this day. And it breaks my heart like it just happened yesterday—especially since that sister's marriage didn't last!

These days, as young adults, all three of them want to spend time with Al and me. We have a natural, tight bond that was built by those hours upon hours of togetherness. We experienced every laugh, tear, and triumph as a family. And now we have a friendship that honestly means everything in the world to me.

That's why I always tell my friends to drop everything for their kids when they're young. You get one shot at it. Your baby will only ever get one childhood. You can't press “rewind,” and the memories are a million times better than years of regret.

The secret to being
good parents is to never
disagree with each other
in front of your kids.

People are always asking me two things—what are my secrets to a long happy marriage, and what are my secrets to raising three good kids? The first thing that comes to my mind actually answers both: Al and I have never disagreed in front of the kids. Ever.

We understood from very early on that if kids sense a weakness between their parents, they'll exploit it. Kids are crafty, and they are always testing authority. If they think they can pit one parent against the other to get their own way, they'll do it. If you show your kids even the slightest crack between you and your husband, they will manipulate it like crazy, and before long, you'll be at war with your spouse!

Before you even think about having kids, make sure that you and your spouse are on exactly the same page when it comes to how you'll raise your kids. You need to know that you both have the same standards on exactly what's appropriate for your children and what's not.

The easiest way to start the united front of parenting is to answer every request from your child by asking what your spouse already said. Did they already ask Dad if they could do something? And if so, what did he say? And no matter what Al had said as his answer, even if I didn't agree, I would go along with it.

Of course we held different opinions at times on how to handle the kids. The worst thing we ever disagreed on was curfew. Chris started working long hours at The Brownstone in his teenage years, so if he wanted to hang out with his friends, he had to do it late at night when he was done with work.

My husband had grown up working at The Brownstone, so he understood Chris's request and OK'ed a 2:00
AM
curfew as a result. I have never understood parents who think it's fine for kids under twenty-one to stay out that late. What's a nineteen-year-old kid doing out at 1:00
AM
? Get into trouble, that's what.

I didn't react when Chris told me that his father had approved a 2:00
AM
curfew. I waited until Al got home to discuss it privately. I explained my thoughts, but this time, Al wouldn't budge. He wanted Chris to work but also to be able to enjoy himself, the way Albert himself had done when he was a teenager. So we came up with a compromise: Chris would have to tell us where he wanted to go, and we'd approve late nights on a per-case basis. That system worked well for us and it didn't undermine my husband's original decision either.

We saw so many parents who used their children as pawns when they were fighting, trying to buy their children's affection at the expense of their relationship with the other parent. Al and I never wanted to be like that. No matter how bad things can get in a marriage, it's never appropriate to pin all the hard calls on your husband just so you can play good cop. Even if you come to hate your spouse, you have to respect that your partner is just as much your kid's parent as you are.