Everyone Loves an Italian Boy

I hate to admit it, but the cliche is still true. In NYC, I met a lot of women from around the world who were equal opportunity daters. All agree, there's just something about Italian men.

This picture says it all. I was introducing Ciccio to my friends and wanted them to understand why I was planning to marry him: his pizza skills. Before the dinner, I prepped Ciccio by reminding him the names of my friends and gave him some etiquette pointers. Somehow Ciccio took that to mean a nutella face smearing would be appropriate.  Luckily my friend Kirsten (pictured in the center) was a good sport. Look at my face though. I'm smiling, but you can see in my eyes I'm wondering "Why do I put up with this?"

Only an Italian boy could get away with such a faux pas. Actually this is what makes them irresistible. They just go for it, disregarding social norms and fears in all they do.

Ciccio eats too fast, talks too loud, and makes bold statements without thinking. It drives me nuts. On the other hand, he'll call me "pumpkin pie" in Home Depot with no reservations and tell me his deepest thoughts regarding religion.

Italian boys put it all on the table and most women will take it especially if they can have pizza too.

Another Italian Boy in America

Mothers and Fathers hide your daughters, there is another Todisco boy on the loose.  

Meet Simone or Pisello (lil pea) as we like to call him. This handsome young man is my brother-in-law. He entered the USA a couple months ago to be a Cultural Representative for Walt Disney World in Florida.  I like to think Simone was inspired by his brother's success in America and wanted his own piece of the American pie. In other words, I like to think Simone wants his own bossy blonde wife.

Life in America isn't easy though for a 20-year-old Italian import. Skydiving, 2 a.m. paintball games, girls begging to take your picture, and trips to Miami are just a few of Simone's new obligations.

It's hard when your main responsibility is to "make people's dreams come true" as Simone explained to us. With his babyface and charm, we are sure he will find a way to make this possible.

Taming the Beast

If you see Ciccio at work, he looks like a civilized gentleman. He certainly knows more than most when it comes to fine dining, watches, and cars, but don't let appearances fool you....he is wild!

Yes, Ciccio is like a caged animal. Most of the time, he is not a threat to society, yet you never know what is going to set him off. Just the other day my mom was talking to a business professional and Ciccio was not in favor of what the guy was saying. He started charging for the phone to tell the guy exactly what he was thinking and I had to jump on his back to slow him down. I wonder how many wives have to tackle their husbands to prevent them from embarrassment?

On a daily basis, my house shakes when Ciccio calls his family from Italy on Skype. His arms thrash around like he's swatting birds and he screams as if he is at war. At first, I would rush to his side.


"Honey, Honey what's wrong?!!!" I said.

"What are you talking about?" Ciccio responded.

"You were screaming, what's going on?!" I would plead.

"Nothing," Ciccio said as if I were the crazy one.

One time I was sure someone shot one of his family members by the way he was screaming and it really was about the proper lasagna cooking techniques.

This animalistic side to Ciccio is what makes people love him or hate him. Ciccio is not for the faint of heart. However, if you give him a chance and he feels you are genuine (like a dog he'll sniff you out), Ciccio will be the best and most entertaining friend you've ever had.

Panettone Wars

It's been the 12 days of Panettone in the Lombardo-Todisco household. Panettone is like the Italian version of fruitcake only Italians seem to really like it. It tastes like paper to me and my mom. My dad eats it and doesn't complain, but that doesn't say much. Ciccio insists that we keep trying it though...practically shoving it down our throats.

Look at those loafs, they are huge. We are on our fourth Panettone. I'm so sick of it and yet my hubby keeps bringing home more.

The first loaf Ciccio bought at World Market to get him in the holiday spirit. I didn't want to deprive Ciccio of his culture, so I said, "great, that's fine".

Ciccio found another one at CVS that had chocolate chips in it, so he couldn't pass that one up either.

Then Carlo, his B.F.F., bought him one that Carlo insists is "the best one ever".  He buys at least 12 each holiday season.  I hope he doesn't force feed his wife too.

The problem is that all of the Italian boys don't agree on which brand of Panettone is the best, so now we have a Panettone from Giuseppe as well.

At this point, I'm becoming a Panettone connoisseur and I don't even like it. I actually do prefer one brand over the other, but I'm afraid of what the consequences could be if I announced my favorite. It could devastate friendships or even my own marriage. To make matters worst, Christmas in Italian culture lasts until January 6, so I fear this is just the beginning.

Stinky Subway Love

Lately Italian Boy and I have gone through some heartbreaking hardships. We've had to experience the "for better and for worse.. in sickness and in health" parts of our vows early on in our marriage. Through it all Ciccio has reminded me why I said yes to marriage after dating for only two months.

My family and friends thought I was crazy for jumping into this life long commitment with a foreigner. "Are you on Drugs?" "Is it for a green card?" These were just some of the "congrats" I received when sharing the engagement news with loved ones. I didn't blame them for questioning my intentions. It was crazy, but I just knew I couldn't let Ciccio go. 

One of the defining moments came when we were riding the subway from his place in Astoria, Queens to Manhattan. Ciccio rode along with me to my work even though he had no reason to go into the city. It was crowded and there was only one seat available. He insisted I take it and instead of standing and hanging onto the rail, Ciccio squatted down so he could be with me at eye level. 

Ciccio in front of our old subway stop

Me: "You don't have to do that Ciccio..it must be so uncomfortable"

Ciccio: "No, it's not. I want to talk and look at Monica Lombardo"

Two and half years later, I sit here sick, stinky and emotional. He has been waiting on me hand and foot and telling me he likes our "stinky love". I don't know what the future will hold. Our lives might get better and they might get worse, but as long as I have my Ciccione, I'll be just fine.

To Have and to Hold...A Man Purse

Ciccio's man purse

He lives in German Village, carries a purse, takes walks in the park with his guy friend, enjoys shopping with my mom, holds my hand while skipping through the street, but he's not gay, he's European and he's Ciccio.

Ciccio is not afraid at all of coming off feminine. In fact he's not even aware that certain gestures, acts or clothing are considered girly. When I first met Ciccio it kind of threw me off, like did I feel secure in my own femininity or would I feel secure in a relationship with a metro man?

After a trip Ciccio took to the Cayman Islands, I had to ask him a pointed and serious question...

No that's not the new cast of Glee, that's Ciccio and his Italian friends on holiday.

Me: "Are you gay?"

Ciccio: "No"

Me: "It's fine if you are. We can still be friends. I just don't want to marry someone who is gay"

Ciccio: (confused) "No, I'm not gay Monica"

It wasn't until I went to Italy and met many other men like Ciccio that I finally let those fears go. Now I wonder how American men came to be so macho? Is there a historical reason why most American guys steer clear of being portrayed as feminine?

Ciccio was tickled too to have a pink kitchen

What I do know is that I feel lucky to have Ciccio. We can trade purses, even some jeans, and I can still count on him to take out the trash:)

Ciccio's First S'more

Thanks to Bobby and Jen for making Ciccio 

his first gooey S'more!