Up Front: Life is Beautiful: A story about a mom, a dad, four boys and … a girl?!! 

Leonardo and I welcomed a new baby to our family this year – a baby girl.

“After fifteen years of marriage and four boys, we finally have a girl,” Leonardo joked with me recently, as we stood in the kitchen of our new Italian restaurant. We named her Osteria Fasulo. (‘Osteria’ isn’t actually a girl’s name, but is Italian for upscale and intimate — as in restaurant.)

“You’re right! We finally have our baby girl!” I joked back. “And we didn’t even have to wait nine months for her to arrive. And best of all, no changing diapers and no late night feedings.”

“Nope, none of that,” Leonardo said. “But like a baby, we have to care, feed and love her so that she grows up to be beautiful inside and out.”

And just like a baby, we soon discovered, she didn’t come with a step-by-step manual on how to deal with the big stuff, the small stuff and all the other stuff in between that goes into opening a restaurant.

I learned right away that opening a restaurant can be a very intimidating experience, especially for someone like me who’s never been in the business before. My background has always been in politics, education and public relations — not restaurants.

Luckily for us, though, the restaurant business runs through Leonardo’s veins. It’s in his blood and his soul. He knows what true success at a restaurant looks like because, unlike me, he spent more than 25 years in the business, traveling the world from Switzerland and England to Egypt, then Singapore, Morocco and Tahiti, to Washington, D.C. and San Francisco.

Restaurants were just a part of his life — that is, until he made a brave, life-altering career shift 10 years ago. Leonardo became a stay-at-home dad. He gave up his dog-eat-dog, high-profile life on the San Francisco restaurant scene to be home with our boys — full-time.

Ten years ago, that was still relatively unheard of. In fact, stay-at-home dads were – dare I say? – a concept not yet completely understood or, for that matter, embraced by society.

He did it anyway.

He put us first and, tucking his pride away and holding his head up high, he stayed home to take care of our family. My career was on a fast track like his, but he stepped aside and pushed me up that ladder. And we never looked back.

Sure, we had our share of bumps, bruises and minor collisions along the way. And there were even times when our roads were heading in separate directions, but we always seemed to find our way again — right back to each other. Especially when it came to the things that mattered most to us — our kids, our happiness and one another.

But I also knew there was something still missing in his life. He had, after all, put his entire professional career on hold for us. Looking back, that was a lot to ask of him. Our career plays a significant role in who we become, how we are shaped, the relationships we make and how we make a difference in the world. But most of all, our career allows us to grow and flourish and find meaning and pride in ourselves and our work. It completes us.

But Leonardo gave up that part of himself when he became a stay-at-home dad. Although he was an amazing stay-at-home dad, he needed more than just that in his life. He needed to feel complete, because professionally he had stopped growing and flourishing.

So when he told me about the restaurant he had found, there was something in his voice that told me — this was it. After all those years of us dreaming about opening our own restaurant, I knew this was going to be his year. His time. His turn.

“Mommy, I think I’ve finally found the perfect place for us. You’re going to love it,” Leonardo told me last May.

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s just perfect. It was formerly a French-American restaurant. The setting is very European with an outside patio, a garden and vineyards. It’s what we’ve always dreamed of owning.”

“It sounds too good to be true.”

“Honest, it’s true. You will fall in love with this place. I promise.”

He was right.

By the end of summer, we were in escrow and making plans. Grand plans. After all of the interviews, paperwork, business licenses, meetings and more paperwork — we closed escrow in September and became the proud parents (owners) of a restaurant. And we had officially joined the more than 12 million other people in the United States working in the restaurant industry.

And according to Leonardo’s grand plan, we had just 60 days to get our baby girl ready.

Between juggling my responsibilities at CSBA and the fact that we were right in the middle of the worst state budget crisis California had ever seen, the recall election and gearing up for the upcoming $13 billion school facilities bond campaign, Leonardo and I were now sharing carpool duty and dealing with the weight of opening a restaurant together.

We were sharing many other duties as well – things I never had to worry about before. I learned how to cook, clean and carpool in a matter of weeks. Okay, it was more like months – but I learned.

Every free moment I had away from the office, I’d spend with the kids at the restaurant because we had so much to get done in less than two months. Leonardo was in charge of everything except the interior decorating and design, a role he left to me and which I happily accepted.

“It really needs a woman’s touch — and warmth,” he told me.

We spent weekends interviewing staff, hanging silk drapes, black-and-white family photographs and Leonardo’s Picasso-like oil paintings. Picking out menu covers, linens and silverware. Meeting and talking with our graphic designer — late into the evenings — to go over every detail of our business cards, announcements and dinner, wine and dessert menus. For weeks, we taste-tested menu selections nightly with our chefs. While still juggling his stay-at-home dad responsibilities, Leonardo took great care to manage every last detail to make sure everything would be perfect.

And when opening night finally arrived, that’s exactly what it was: Perfect!

On October 15, 2003, we officially opened our doors for dinner. We were completely booked. It was a very humbling and incredibly rewarding night — on so many levels.

At one point in the evening, the entire restaurant was packed. I stood back and I watched my husband work his magic. He was in his element. I was so proud of him.

He worked the room like a charm — like he’d never left the business — moving from table to table, welcoming and getting to know each and every one of our guests. And as I watched him, I thought about how happy he looked. I hadn’t seen him that happy in a long time. It hit me suddenly – he really had given up so much of himself, and for so long, to be home with our boys. I’m not sure I could’ve made the same sacrifices that he had for 10 years. It wasn’t until that very moment that I finally understood what he meant when he used to say, “I miss the people, the feeling, the sense of meaning – I miss it.”

He turned to look for me in the crowded room, and when he met my eyes he smiled and motioned for me to come over to the table.

“Vieni qua, amore mio,” he called to me in his sweet Italian accent. (Come over here, my love.)

“Yes, darling?” I asked.

“I want you to meet my lovely wife,” he said to our guests. “This is Mina, my amore. She deserves all the credit. She’s behind all of this. She made this happen.”

But Leonardo and I both knew that he was the reason it happened. He deserves all the credit. If I take credit for anything, it’s that I never stopped believing in him; I always knew he would make it happen.

And looking across the restaurant that evening, listening to the buzz of lively conversation and laughter, the clinking of wine glasses and silverware against the plates, and the generous compliments from guests praising the exciting dishes coming out of the kitchen – I knew he had made it. It was his turn.

So what does all this have to do with my work at CSBA? Quite a bit. I know that I’ve been able to do my job effectively and with passion, drive and commitment because of Leonardo. Every day that I’d leave for work or board an airplane for business, I never once had to worry about the kids, the carpooling, the cleaning, or the cooking.

He did that.

He changed the diapers, did the laundry and took care of the dry-cleaning, the pediatric and dental visits; he managed the bills and our properties. Most of all, he gave me peace of mind and allowed me to concentrate exclusively on my demanding and oftentimes challenging job.

He never stopped believing in me, always pushing me to succeed and supporting me to that next step, even if it meant another year of him staying home with our babies. Another year of him being Mr. Mom. It was a rare price for him to pay, but because of it our babies grew into loving, secure and incredible young gentlemen. I owe so much of that to Leonardo. Because of him, I was able to spread my wings and soar at CSBA.

A few months have passed since opening night and we’re all adjusting nicely to our new life with our “baby girl.” And Leonardo? Leonardo’s living his dream. Life couldn’t be more beautiful; he’s finally back in the game.

Only this time — it’s my turn to push him up that ladder.

Mina G. Fasulo is editor in chief of California Schools and CSBA Assistant Executive Director, Communications.