Happy birthday to Mac!

Guess who still refuses to crawl and is now one year old??

THIS GUY

THIS GUY

Mac had a pretty swell birthday.  I mean, he didn’t tell me he enjoyed it or anything, but I think he had a good time.  Recap on birthday numero uno below.  Or just watch this video.  It covers just about everything.  Thanks Google+!

Mac woke up early so I didn’t get to run in and terrorize him with the birthday song, as per tradition.  (For his recent birthday, James delighted in being awoken from a peaceful slumber with my phone pressed to his head blaring the birthday song.  What can I say?  We make birthdays special ’round here.)  I did get to play Mac the song while he was sitting on the kitchen floor.  At first, he was all “why are you guys just staring at me” but then he started his signature Mac dance bob.

Mac was fortunate to be able to celebrate with his grandparents.  We took pics with the birthday banner.

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Not our best family photo

Not our best family photo

Mac opened presents from thoughtful relatives, godparents, and friends.  Henry “helped.”

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We went on a birthday adventure.  We took the subway for the first time to St. Paul Outside the Walls.  Stunning and huge.  More on this one later.

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And the main event:  cake!  James made a chocolate cake with homemade frosting and a separate smash cake for the birthday boy.

He went for it.  Instantly.  No hesitation.  Fistfuls of cake straight into his mouth.  Like to the point I almost worried about needing to take it because he was eating so much cake.  As if taking cake from a chocolate-covered cake demon would ever be advisable.

Before:

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During:

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After:

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They were some of the happiest moments of his young life.  Sadly, the high was followed by a definite low, as cleanup was inevitable.  Mac howled while he took a shower, but I think he’d tell you it was worth it.

P.S.  Want to relive the epic Mac saga? Mac at 4 months, 5 months, 6 months, 8 months, 9 months, 10 months, and 11 months.

Wut up

You can't resist the squish

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You should probably just start walking already

Dear Mac,

You are 11 months old.  WHOA.  That’s all I have to say about that.  Moving on.

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Moving is actually the name of the game for you these days.  You want to be on your feet!  You want to be walking!  You have places to go and people to see and things to put in your mouth!  You still can’t do any of this unassisted, but it doesn’t stop you.  You just reach out your hands and expect your entourage to enable you.  (They frequently do.)

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You have zero interest in crawling.  You will flop all the way forward, rotate 360 degrees, or “walk” a few steps and plop before you will even think about making a crawling motion.  Instead, you have cultivated some pretty aggressive pointing.  That.  That, woman.  Bring me THAT.  I try not to cave, but . . .

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You have also become a lot more demanding.  What happened to my easygoing baby??  Now, you generally cry if I try to leave the room.  Whether this is because you miss me or because I can’t hold your hands to help you walk when I’m gone, I am unsure.  But we are talking piercing shrieks that turn your face red.  Screams the likes of which you have NEVER before uttered.  This turnabout is a little shocking.

I get it.  You’re frustrated.  I’m frustrated too.  I know you can’t move how you want to, and it is driving you bonkers.  I feel bad that I’m frustrated.  You were low key for months; who am I to complain now?  You’ve just thrown a curve ball.  I’m still trying to catch up.  I never thought I’d encourage having a mobile baby, but you should probably just start walking.  Or crawling.  Or SOMETHING already.  I think we’ll all be happier.

I'll keep you in the carrier until I fall over though

I’ll keep you in the carrier until I fall over though

I doubt walking would help on bathtime though.  Here, you have just flipped a switch and decided you hate it.  You scream throughout your entire bath.  Whether sitting up or sitting in your chair, sitting with your brother or alone, being offered toys or not.  Everything is awful.  I’m hoping we can come to some kind of understanding on this.  Bathing is not optional.  I promise, we’re not even doing it every day!  (The usual routine is Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday.)

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Big doings though on the sleep front.  Something has clicked this month, and you are generally sleeping through the night.  w00t!  (Furiously knocks on wood.)  Sometimes you have a nighttime, uh, movement that awakens you, but I don’t think there is anything we can do about that.  Sometimes you wake up early and sing to yourself.  It is pretty adorable.

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This is not new, but I’m not sure I’ve covered your usual sleep positioning here.  We call your sleep “move,” kissing the bicep.  You curl one arm up to your head and turn your head towards it.  But not until you’ve done the pacifier shuffle.  You sleep with four pacifiers, and I have no idea why, but the first thing you do after being laid down is to spit your current pacifier, grope for new ones and replace.  Weirdo.

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I’ll be curious to see your new stats at your upcoming doctor’s appointment.  You’ve slowed down a little on your food adventuresomeness, but you are still huge.  I tend not to fully credit your hugeness because I see you next to a two year old every day, but you’re a chunk.  Your favorite food is probably banana.  It makes your eyes light up in a way that is endearing and also a little disturbing.  (It’s just a banana, kid.)  You’ve also gotten on the noodle bandwagon, and you can slurp with the best of them.  You have this “charming” habit of working your food over in your mouth and then just letting it fall.  I’ve seen you “eat” an entire piece of pizza this way.  But, overall, not too shabby for someone with four teeth.

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You may have noticed a distinct Alfalfa look on your recent pictures.  Don’t worry, you don’t have a cowlick, and we aren’t gunking your hair with product.  This phenomenon happens because of your hooded bath towel, and I must confess that I do my best to encourage it.  It just looks so right.  Like you have a crest.  I love it.

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You and Henry are still the Odd Couple.  You guys will be face-meltingly sweet to each other and then one of you is trying to pummel the other with tiny fists.  You are able to play more and more together, which I love.  If I’d like to “steer” you on your walkabouts, I only need to ask your brother to go ahead.  Sometimes your route veers just to copy something your brother did.

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And now you are almost the big 0-1.  What a year, baby.  What a year.

Love, Mom

P.S.  More Mac at 4 months, 5 months, 6 months, 8 months, 9 months, and 10 months.

Too much gelato

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Once upon a time when I was a kid–probably between ages six and eight–I remember having a full-on freak out at bed time.  I was sitting there, gasping for air, keening like a wounded animal.  All because I was suddenly gripped with a paralyzing and suffocating fear about dying.

I couldn’t shake it.  My dad was called in to cope.  Either because my mom tried and wasn’t getting through or she decided this was more my dad’s wheelhouse or because she had lots of other little kids to put to bed; I don’t remember.  I do remember sitting with my dad by the fireplace, listening to him talk.

I don’t remember what he said.  I really wish I did.  All I know is that I eventually calmed down enough to go to sleep that night and many other nights in the future.

I’ve had many years to wonder about and think what I would tell my own children, when they wake up gasping in the night some day.  When they realize that everyone on this Earth and everyone they love and even their own little bodies will not be here forever.

I hope I don’t completely muddle it.  I’ll try to talk about God and heaven and things, but I certainly don’t have it all figured out.  In many ways, I’m not so far from that young girl who was scared to close her eyes at night.

What does make sense to me is talking about having too much ice cream, or gelato, if we are still in an Italian frame of mind.  I’ll try to explain that having all the gelato you want, all the time, every day sounds like it would be wonderful.  For awhile, it probably would be wonderful.  But then, eventually, you’d start to crave something else.  Maybe brownies.  Or potato chips.  Possibly you may even start to want some apples or broccoli.  I know it sounds hard to believe, but you really would get sick of gelato.  That’s why gelato is a special treat food.  That’s why we savor it.  Because we know it won’t go on forever or always be there.

Meaning that your life is like gelato.  If it went on forever and always, it wouldn’t be special.  You wouldn’t feel a push to do things or try things because there would always be more time.

But it is finite.  It is special.  You only have so much of it.  You have to act now.  You have to try all the things and meet the people and sing the songs or do whatever you want to do.  It is special because it is scarce.  And precious.

I’m not sure that this is the best analogy.  Or that it even makes sense, particularly to a six year old.  I’ll have to work on it.

But this does somewhat describe my thoughts on my time at home.  When we first got here, I reveled in all of our free time.  The days stretched out and we could do anything.  Or nothing.  Whatever we wanted.  After feeling hyper-scheduled, this abundance of time was just what I needed.

Until it wasn’t.  Too much gelato.  The freedom started to feel stifling.  More clock watching instead of enjoyment.

This is one of the reasons I’m enjoying Henry’s part-time adventures at school.  It isn’t a true break for me because I’m still hanging out with wants-to-walk-everywhere-but-can’t Mac, but it provides some structure to our days.

The little bit of structure helps make the rest of our unscheduled time that much sweeter.  I may continue to tinker with the gelato balance in our days, but, for now, it definitely helps.

Halfway to 3

Dear Henry,

Not too long ago, some Facebook peeps commented that 2.5 was their absolute favorite age.  I was like, say what?  But now we have reached 2.5, and I totally get it.  You are still wild and you have your meltdowns, but you are so sweet and fun.  You say the craziest things sometimes.  I’m always impressed by how much we can talk about how many things.  I need to up my explanation game.  I feel the “why” questions coming soon.

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You have a mind like an elephant.  I’m shocked at the things you remember, even after a few months!  You knew where things were at the zoo A FEW MONTHS AFTER YOUR VISIT.  We went to a certain market ONE TIME and we bought bread.  When we returned a few months later, you asked “where’s my bread?”  After you saw a Spiderman outside a museum ONE TIME you ask about Spiderman every time we walk by.  I actually opened your shades the other day and you immediately asked “where are the pinwheels?”  Our neighbors had pinwheels in their planters AT CHRISTMAS.

You are getting more manipulative.  Mommy is your favorite unless Mommy is there and you are stalling for bed and then you need Daddy.  You also need more water, more blankets, a kiss from the parent who is not there, and anything else you can think of to extend your time of awakeness.  It’s usually not very bad, but having you put up any fight is a change for us.  Once you are in bed, you are usually a top notch sleeper.  Unless you’ve lost your chupito (pacifier).  I’ve started to talk up the fact that pacifiers leave at 3.  We’ll see how that goes.  I think you have high sleep needs.  You usually nap at least two hours each afternoon, often much longer.  You are particularly wiped out after a morning at school.

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That’s right.  You are a bona fide bambino, attending 4-6 hours of day care each week.  You started in February.  It has mostly gone well.  At first, getting you out the door in the morning was the absolute worst.  Now it is no walk in the park, but you look forward to school.  (I need to brush up on my car make and models; this is your favorite thing to discuss on the walk to school.)  Sometimes you ask about going when we’re at home.  Valentina is your primary teacher.  Your bestie is Isabella.  I’m not entirely sure what you do at school because you refuse to provide details, and I am suspicious of the tales you relate.  It feels strange to me that you have your own things you do and your own secrets after we spent all of our time together, but I’m happy that you are happy.  And I know you will have many many more of your own things as you get older, and I need to get used to it.  Baby steps for both of us.

You still terrorize your brother, but you can be very sweet with him as well.  I am trying to persuade you to stop taking his toys.  He gets turns too.  Sometimes you offer him a trade so you can steal the toy you want.  I eye all of these things suspiciously.  It makes me remember when I convinced my younger sister to pay me for doing stupid things.  I’m on to you, kid.

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But particularly lately, you have had some awesome moments with Mac.  You really want to play with him.  Even though you are still about 150% too rough, you are starting to take his desires and needs into your play.  Sometimes you bring him toys, just because.  He fell over while you were playing, and you grabbed his hands and helped him back up.  I melted a little.  You ask frequently “What is Mac doing?” and “What is Mac talking about?”  This is all very good because that kid worships you.  I’m really excited to watch the epic Henry-Mac friendship unfold.  Let’s just try to keep the broken bone count to a minimum.

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How could I not love this age?  You just unpromptedly came up and said “I love you so much.”  After a timeout where you threw something at me, you came over and said you were sorry.  We have inside jokes, such as me pretending to not know that you want to take your pants off at nap time.  You dance with abandon.  You have a zeal for life.  Sometimes I wish your head wasn’t so hard and you would save your wrestling for Daddy, but I love that you love me and want to spend your time with me.

You are still a pretty good little eater.  You make it easy for me to have a take it or leave it policy.  If I were worried that you weren’t getting enough, I’m not sure I could take such a hard stance.  You still like zucchini.  Strawberry season has started here, and you are singlehandedly putting a dent in Rome’s strawberry supply.  You are definitely taking advantage of the Italian goodies; pasta, pizza, salumi, and cheese are all your jam.  Not to mention the gelato.  First you liked all pink gelati, but now you are branching out into pistachio, biscotto, and many others.

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With all of your eating, I shouldn’t be surprised that you are growing.  And how.  I haven’t measured you lately, but I can tell.  You can reach more elevator buttons.  When we first got here, I cuffed your pants up twice.  Now I don’t roll them at all.  We just moved you up to your size 7 shoes.  I need to doublecheck and see if you actually have anything that fits for this summer.

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We still read a lot.  Which I love.  Your just went through an obsession with the Lego catalog.  Not the free Lego magazine which you also enjoy, but the straight up catalog.  You called it your “Ninja book.”  You also like all things vehicular and all things Richard Scarry.  Mac is still more into destroying the books than reading them, but I’m hoping we can have even more story time with the three of us soon.

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I had no idea you would be capable of so much at age two.  What is next year?  Defending your thesis on best molding practices for play doh?  I’ll be excited to see.  Just try not to lose your cheeks just yet!

Love, Mom

P.S.  Henry at two and two and a quarter.

3 Weird Things about Italian Day Care

As I mentioned here, our routine has changed recently.  Henry is doing a few hours a week at asilo nido AKA Italian day care for ages 0-3.  (Nido means nest.)  After age 3, kids go to public scuola materna.  A friend here is doing the process for her child.  It involves multiple passwords and secret handshakes and sounds more difficult than college applications.  Luckily, Henry’s asilo covers up to 5 years so we shouldn’t have to change in a few months.

Why did we decide to do this?  Two main reasons.  Number one is for the interaction with other kids.  Henry does get to see friends at least one or two times a week and he has his brother, but we wanted to up the ante.  Henry has been practically tackling other kids at the playground because he wants playmates.  OK, message received.

Second, we wanted to give him a shot at some Italian.  I was previously skeptical, but that kid really is a little sponge.  He’s not getting much of an opportunity to advance his foreign language skills around me.  This way he will at least have a fighting chance.  (Some of his teachers speak English; we didn’t throw him completely in the deep end.)

Although this was not a primary reason, we did want to give me a breather as well.  The jury is still out on whether this is really a break.  Getting out of the house in time for school can be a pain.  Henry is only doing two hours at a time.  Granted, this is two hours more than before, but it isn’t a ton of time away.  And I still have Mac.  But getting out of the house is growing easier, and I’m able to do some things with Mac that I haven’t attempted with both kids.  The idea is that eventually Mac will do a few hours at day care as well, and then I will have no idea what to do with myself.  (“FREEDOM,” William Wallace styles.)

We certainly did not decide to do this for the free helping of illness we’ve all enjoyed.  Once Henry started, I think we were all sick for about a month.  Thankfully, that has evened out (furiously knocking on wood), but I’m holding my breath until the next outbreak.

Henry has been going for about two months.  Sometimes I’m frustrated, but I think it is a positive development overall.  Henry has a new bestie named Isabella.  He has started looking forward to school.  Here are some things that have thrown me for a loop as we’ve been figuring this out.

1) You can park your baby

What Henry is doing is called baby parking.  I’m not translating.  That is what they call it.  Baby parking.  This means you just drop your kid and pay by the hour.

Crazy, right?  Technically, it isn’t as willy nilly as it seems.  They do ask for you to have a general schedule.  But still.  Hourly coverage when you need it.

I can’t see how this would fly in most places because of required teacher to student ratios.  If you don’t know how many kids are showing, how do you know how many teachers need to show up?  I think the answer is either a relaxed or nonexistent ratio law here.  Henry’s asilo claims they have a 1 to 5 ratio.  I’m skeptical.  Obviously, I feel comfortable or I wouldn’t have Henry there, but I don’t think it is 1 to 5 every minute of the day.

This works out great for us.  I only pay for the hours I use.  I came into it thinking I would do 1-2 days a week.  They suggested 4-5 because they think a child thrives more with regularity.  We compromised on 3.  But if I don’t feel like taking him, I don’t.  Yesterday, it poured rain all morning.  I didn’t feel like walking around in the rain.  We didn’t go.  No cost to me.

I prepaid for a bunch of hours and they gave me a sort of punch card.  I mark down as the hours are used.  They claim they are also tracking, but I’d be surprised.  Again, I trust them with my kid, but I don’t think it is the most organized operation.

2)  $$$

Speaking of paying for hours, day care seems so CHEAP here.  The hourly rate is 9 euro.  8 euro if you prepay for 50 hours.  7 euro if you prepay for 100 hours.  You can guess what we did.

But the full-time rate also seems super cheap.  Looking at this day care and other local ones, full time care is in the $400 – 700/month ballpark.  That is 1/3 to 1/2 what we paid in DC.  And Henry’s day care has an organic chef on-site, something ours did NOT have back home.  So this could be considered pricey in other parts of the US, but it is a steal compared to DC prices.

3)  Stairs, the bane of my existence

After about a month, Henry’s asilo moved to a new location.  Everyone raved about the new place.  Bigger!  Better courtyard!  So much light!  And the building is lovely, but we went from a scenario where I could walk my stroller in and park it under a covered pavilion to STAIRS.  Not just a few stairs.  A lot of stairs.

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These are no-way-around these stairs.  You get buzzed in off the street, and there is a little landing.  Then you have 8 stairs to get down to get inside.  I end up cramming my stroller to the side of the landing beside some other strollers.  Unloading both kids.  Schlepping down the stairs.  Repeat in reverse for pickup.  It’s a huge pain.

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The stairs mystify me.  More than 90% of the patrons here walk and drop their kids by stroller.  How are people not up in arms?  A friend tells me that most places have stairs.  Just because of the older buildings.  All the day cares have it so no one complains.  They are just used to it and deal with it.  The vast majority of people I see also seem to be dropping only one kid.  I’m sure that helps.  Me with the spaghetti noodle arms though, I’m not making it up and down the stairs with a the double stroller.  I would like one ramp, please.

There are other differences from DC, like having to change Henry to inside shoes when we get there, but nothing earth-shattering.  The teachers seems positive, energetic, and excited about kids.  That’s probably the number one thing I look for.

Anything else you are curious about? 

Psst.  Want more differences?  Differences around the house here.  Differences on lifestyle here.  Differences on starting solids here

Another day in the life

Last year, I told you about a typical day around these parts.  Since then, Henry is doing a few hours a week at Italian day care which we are treating as preschool.  Here’s our new usual routine on a school day.  You know, until it all changes again in 2.2 seconds.

4:50 Mac is awake.  I give him a few minutes to settle down.  No luck.  I go to feed him.
6:56 James’s alarm goes off.  I pull the covers over my head.  Why am I so tired?  Is it really just Monday?
7:30 – 8:05 Shower, get dressed, makeup.  Say goodbye to James.
8:05 – 8:15 Wake up Mac to feed him.  Normally, I’d let him sleep, but we already run behind enough as is on school days.
8:15 – 8:25 Head into Henry’s room.  New diapers for the boys.  Get everyone dressed.
8:25 – 8:35 Into the kitchen for breakfast.  Normally we have eggs plus fruit, avocado, or sweet potato.  But we only have one egg left so it is oatmeal with apples and cinnamon.  I work on the oatmeal and fill watered down juice cups.
8:35 – 8:55 We eat.  For someone who loves all food, Mac is being pretty picky about the oatmeal.  Henry is showing off and taking big bites.  I talk about school and how much fun it will be to try to get Henry pumped up.
8:55 – 9:00 Clean that kitchen.
9:00 – 9:20 A dreaded part of my day: getting us out the door for school.  Thankfully, Henry is feeling cooperative today.  At 9:20, we have new diapers, coats, and are locked and loaded in the stroller.

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Temporarily waylaid after I snap a pic and Henry wants to take a picture of his brother.

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9:20 – 9:32 We walk to school.  These posts are good for me too because they force me to face reality that, yes, it does take longer than 5 minutes to get places.
9:32 – 9:40 Unload the kids, walk Henry into school, and remove his coat and shoes.  Henry is being Clingy McClingerson today.  His teacher, Valentina, has to actually peel him off me in the end.  No screams; he’s just being a little timid.
9:40 – 9:52 Mac and I are on the town!  After I reload him, we walk to a playground at Villa Ada.
9:52 – 10:27 I give Mac a chance to stretch his legs.  We do some time on the swings, but mostly I just help him pull up AKA his most favorite thing ever.  I also try to keep him from eating rocks, another favorite pursuit of his.
10:27 – 10:50 I recline Mac in the stroller and provide a pacifier to encourage napping.  We walk to the market, and sure enough, Mac closes his eyes right before we get there.
10:50 – 11:05 I visit my new bestie, AKA the egg lady.  Picture giant eggs with Auburn Tiger colored yolks.  Delish.  Once you go egg lady, you can’t go back, they say round these parts.  (20 eggs/6 euro)

Guess which one is the supermarket egg

Guess which one is the supermarket egg

We also visit our produce stall.  We picked this one because they have sweet potatoes, and now I’m working on becoming a regular.  After learning I’m from DC, Duder (I’ll get his name soon) introduces me to another customer who he says is from LA.  (Turns out to be San Francisco.)  But I love everything about this; I’m slowly starting to feel like a regular.

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I was going to work up the courage to visit the fishmonger (almost all the fish are whole and will involve an interesting display of broken Italian and hand gestures on my part to make them manageable), but no fish on Mondays apparently.  This makes sense because fishermen are probably not out on Sundays.

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11:05 – 11:35 Mac is still asleep.  I decide to enjoy the sunny weather and just walk around for a bit.  I turn down a few new streets because why not.

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11:35 – 11:42 Back to school for Henry.  The kids are running around in the play area outside.  This is awesome (1) because Henry looks longingly at all the toys outside every time I coax him inside so I’m glad he got to experience it and (2) he is ALREADY wearing his coat and shoes.  SCORE.
11:42 – 11:54 We walk back home.  It still takes longer than 5 minutes.
11:54 – 11:56 We circle the building because Henry wants to see our car.
11:56 – 12:06 Unloading, de-coating, re-diapering.
12:06 – 12:30 We play.  I keep expecting Henry to ask to watch TV, but he only asks for potato chips.  I can work with that.
12:30 – 1:00 Lunch time!  Henry has yogurt, clementines, and potato chips.  Mac and I have leftovers and clementines.  I try to ask Henry about his time at school.  After spending so much time together, it intrigues me that he now has stuff of his own.  Because he is an unreliable narrator, I don’t even know what some of this stuff is.  Maybe they played with legos or maybe they went to the moon.  Who knows?
1:00 – 1:15 Prep for nap.  Story time.  Henry down.
1:15 – 1:20 Feed Mac.  Mac down.
1:20 – 1:25 Start a load of laundry.  Make popcorn.  Pull some stock out of the freezer for dinner.
1:25 – 1:40 Browse the internets while munching on popcorn and the last of the truffle pecorino from our trip to Pienza that I still need to tell you guys about.
1:40 – 2:45 Get my blog on.  Some combination of writing, photo editing, and link linking.  And Publish!
 2:45 – 2:55 Look up some recipe ideas for dinner.  Glance at a few other websites.
 2:55 – 2:56  Henry is awake and screaming.  They shorted me!  I know it is only a few minutes, but it feels significant.  Henry cannot be persuaded to stop screaming.  Now Mac is also screaming.  Coincidence . . . I think not.
 2:56 – 3:05  Screaming.
 3:05 – 4:00  Everyone is rediapered and has ceased screaming.  We play in the living room.
 4:00 – 4:05 And I have reached capacity.  I offer Mac a top up.  (Mac never refuses a top up.)  I announce that we are heading to the park.
 4:05 – 4:20 Shoes, coats, check diapers.  Finally they are loaded in the stroller with snack packs for their munching pleasure.
 4:20 – 4:40 We walk to Villa Borghese.  On the way, we run into one of James’s coworkers.  His family is out of town, and I extend a dinner invitation.
 4:40 – 5:25 We play in the park.  Henry runs around like a maniac.  I try to persuade Mac NOT to eat the rocks.

Someone seemed to be filming a very Rebecca Black style video here today

Someone seemed to be filming a very Rebecca Black style video here today

 5:25 – 6:00 We walk home.  De-coat.  Rediaper.  De-shoe.
 6:00 – 6:36 James gets home.  We debrief, and I head in to cook dinner.  I abandon whatever my plan for the chicken stock was and make chili.
6:36 – 7:30 James’s coworker arrives.  We sit to enjoy the cheesy chili goodness.
7:30 – 8:00 Prep the kids for bed.  Toothbrushing.  Diapers.  PJs.  Storytime.  I go put Mac down while James finishes up with Henry.
8:00 – 8:25 While James cleans the kitchen, I dork around on my phone.  I eventually abandon facebook and go in and talk to James.
 8:25 – 8:45 I’m beat.  I get ready for bed.
8:45 – 10:06  In bed reading.  I’m currently reading Book 2 of the Outlander series.  I was warned this would be addictive and it is.  The first book felt a little bodice-rippy, but I think it was just where the characters were then.  The writing is good, the story hums along, and it makes me want to plan a trip to Scotland immediately.

So that’s our new school day routine.  Henry goes three days a week, except when he doesn’t.  Like if it is raining.  Or we just don’t feel like it.  More on school soon.

Two hours feels incredibly short, but I try to have some dolce vita moments with Mac while Henry is at school.  We go on walks.  We hit markets.  We explore.  We’ve even gone to get cappuccino with James.  Good times.

Shut it down

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Dear Mac,

You are now 10 months old.  I know this is how things work, but if you could please slow. it. down.  For some reason, 9 months felt OK, but 10 months feels so incredibly close to ONE YEAR.  Not OK.  Shut it down, please and thank you.

You haven’t shown the slightest interest in crawling, but I think you would stand all day if you could.  You’ve started getting cocky.  Look, Ma, one hand!  Look, Ma, no hands!  Sometimes this works.  Most times it does not.  You are taking a few tentative steps with your feet.  Nothing in a purposeful direction yet, but I think the days when I hunch over so you can “walk” around the playground are near.  My back is sore just thinking about it, but I am excited for you.

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Holding you is like trying to wrestle an octopus; you are always trying to wriggle out of our grasp.  Changing time is when you most want to roll.  You have perfected the screaming back arch.  This makes putting you in high chairs, strollers, and car seats much more interesting.  You caught my throat the other day doing this.  That’s a hard head, son.  Feel free to also shut this down.

You have so much hair!  Once I realized how cute your hat hair is, I try to mess it up on purpose now.  You sort of look like a Tweety Bird.  I love it.

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Tooth #2 is staring to make an appearance.  Also at an odd angle.  I will not be surprised if braces are in your and your brother’s futures.  You haven’t complained too much about all the teething.  You do things like suck on your palm and chew on your hand; it seems to provide you some relief.

You have complained about being sick.  After your first bout with illness, you have had another thanks to Henry’s day care aka a kiddo petri dish.  We’ve all been a little sick.  You seemed to be holding off, but now you’ve succumbed.  Your poor cough rattles your little body, and you sound like a two-pack-a-day smoker.  Your nose is running, and you HATE to have it wiped.  I wish I could fix these things for you; I really do.  We even had a family visit to the doctor, but nothing to be done.  Hopefully you will be snot free and chipper soon.

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We were making progress on Operation Sleep-Through-the-Night, but your illness has set us back.  I can’t do any tough love when you sound like a whole pack of barking dogs.  Poor baby.

You are eating three solid meals a day.  You seem to love all food.  Clementines are one of your current faves. I’m psyched that we all eat the same breakfast together now, eggs + fruit or sweet potato or something.  I see you pincer, but you are also a pro at stuffing food into your meaty manos.  You’ll eat merrily along and only later will we realize that you have two puffs and a hunk of apple tightly grasped in your fist.  You can drink out of a sippy cup, but you also enjoy “drinking” from it upside down, smashing food with it, etc.  You have started a super fun new game of throw my fork on the ground and see if Mommy picks it up.  This too, shut it down, thanks in advance.

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Your fierce devotion to your brother continues.  He has started unpromptedly bringing you toys on occasion, and it makes my heart smile.  He also unpromptedly continues to tackle you.  Sometimes you like this.  Many times not.  (Henry, seriously, shut it down.)

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Despite your sniffles, you continue to be our easy-going, joyful little guy.  Your eyes light up when I walk into a room.  You enthusiastically reach for our hands at the blessing before dinner, blessing our hands with smears of food.  You sing and talk and love to look around and see what is going on.  You have started helping a bit when I get dressed and shifting your toy from one hand to another.  Your “move” is sticking out your pointer finger and trying to jam it in peoples’ mouths.  Sometimes Henry is game, but this is confusing for him.  How can he honor the strict “Don’t bite Mac” policy when you are literally stuffing your fingers in his mouth?

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Looking forward to helping you toddle and showing off your chunky thighs as it warms up.  Sigh, even if it means getting older.

Love, Mom

P.S.  More Mac at 4 months, 5 months, 6 months, 8 months, and 9 months.

 

A series of unfortunate events OR that time I was pooped on by a peacock

My beautiful, feathered nemesis

My beautiful, feathered nemesis

Henry hasn’t made it to school all week.  Poor kid.  He still has that cough and cold, and he had a few days of fever earlier in the week.  We even went to the doctor, but there wasn’t anything to be done.  Just the usual fluids and rest.  While sitting there hacking with snot dripping off his face, Henry keeps looking up and saying “What happen to me?”  It is adorably heartbreaking.

At my request, James called school on Wednesday.  By “school” I mean “completely voluntary pay by the hour day care,” so they didn’t really need to know, but because the whole thing is so new, I didn’t want them to think we had just vanished.  They reminded James about the upcoming facilities move next week.  James said cool and Henry would try to make it on Friday.

Fast forward to today.  I fight to get everyone out the door.  We roll up to day care.  I’m greeted at the door by one of the English speakers.  She’s apologetic.  They packed up all the toys already.  It’s a busy day preparing for the move.  It’s not the best time.  You can leave him if you really need to . . .

I get it.  It’s fine.  I was proud that I said exactly what I wanted in that moment (rare for me) which was, “it’s no problem.  I wish you had told me, but it’s fine.”  (I also wish they had told me before I unloaded both kids from the stroller, but that’s another story.)

A small part of me was irked, but I quickly shook it off.  It was a truly gorgeous day.  Warm.  Sunny.  Not a cloud in the blue Mediterranean sky.  We were already dressed and out the door; we could do anything!  I quickly assessed my mom gear.  I had packed standard gear (diapers, wipes, Puffs) instead of heavy duty outing my gear (more snacks, sippy cups, etc.), but I thought we’d be fine for a trip to the zoo.

And so we zoo-ed.  Definitely more people there than usual.  On most weekdays, I count more people working at the zoo than visiting it.  But today we saw school groups and families.  I don’t know if it was the Friday or the warmer weather, but other people had the same idea.

We made it through our usual faves.  Monkeys.  Giraffe.  Skipped the farm animals today.  Plenty of peacock sightings.

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One of the things I love about Rome’s zoo is the roaming hordes of peacocks.  I guess more properly the roaming musters or ostentations of peacocks.  My zoo growing up had a one or two peacocks strutting around and it was always a hunt to try to spot them.  Here, there is no hunt.  You’ll turn a corner.  BAM.  Muster of peacock crossing your way.

Henry was strangely psyched about the ducks.  I think because he can get fairly close to them.  We headed that way.  It was a honking cacophony of wonder.  We heard swans trumpet.  We saw ducks rumble.

Then Mac was starting to get antsy.  I had my eye on the clock.  I swear I spend half my time thinking about where the next food is coming from.  This time, I decided to get a little “crazy.”  Usually we do our eating at home.  It’s not really a money thing.  It’s not even an Italian language thing.  I just get frustrated juggling the two kids for eating eating on the go.  Like real sitting down and eating.  Handing snacks in stroller is obviously a different story.  But this time, I thought we’d try something different.  I saw that the Oasis Cafe by the pond was open.  Why not extend the fun with some food?

After being swarmed by a school group while placing our order, we sat down with a panino, chips, and water.

What follows are the actual emails I sent to James about our degustation exploration.

Good news, Zoo snack bar is open. Bad news, being swarmed by peacocks.

That’s right.  Those beautiful creatures were now ALL up in our grill.  To the point that I was using my feet to try to get them to backup.  Not actually making contact with them, of course.  Just making sort of a shooing motion.  The ducks stayed put by the pond, but we also attracted a crowd of pigeons, crows, and seagulls.  We really weren’t trying to feed anyone.  I guess they know that kids are the best free lunch around.

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After some munching, I realized I had inadvertently sat down beside the smoking area.  When other patrons vacated the only truly sunny table, I decided we’d make a switch.  With holding Mac and pushing stroller and moving food, I needed to make a few trips.  I left the food unattended.  For just a few moments.  MISTAKE.  I turned by back and giant crow was trying to fly off with Henry’s half of the panino.  I charged and he abandoned his spoil, but he stayed creepily staring at us from a bush a few feet away for the rest of the meal.

When I was taking a sip of water, they came and snatched the bread out of Mac’s hand. We’re leaving now.

At this point, Mac was sitting IN MY LAP.  That brazen peacock hussy came right up and took bread FROM A BABY.  Peacock, have you no shame???   OK, peacocks.  Before this was all in good fun, but this just got real.  Don’t mess with my baby.  Luckily Mac was not hurt, and he seemed too shocked to be upset.  (Which was good because that was the last of the bread.)

While packing up a bird pooped on my head. It is directly on the back of my head, and I can’t see it.

YUP.  That happened.  I felt the wet splat.  I hoped, fleetingly, that it may have been a nut off a tree.  But no.  I knew.  I had been pooped on.  Lucky me.

I couldn’t spot the culprit.  At this point, I can neither confirm nor deny that I was pooped on by a peacock.  So let’s just say I was pooped on by a peacock.  It makes a much better story.

So I did the only thing you can in this situation.  I baby wiped the back of my head.  I put my hair up.  And I just laughed.  You can’t make this stuff up, folks.

On the walk home, where both kids fell asleep, because of course they did, I overheard someone tell someone else to have a good weekend.  So at least I learned something.  Buon fine settimana, ya’ll!  May your days be free of peacock poop.

And in the 9th month, there was tooth

Dear Mac,

You did it!  You now have a tiny sliver of your right bottom tooth sticking out from your gum.  At first, I could only feel it.  Now I can see it in certain lights and angles.  No word yet from its tooth brethren.  I was starting to think I’d be pureeing your steak for the next five years.  (Or, you know, more steak for me.)  But now, tooth!  (Also, we don’t eat much steak.  This isn’t really steak country.)

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You are also SUPER into pulling up.  Not yet on furniture, but on people.  You will be sitting and practically lunge at my hands.  You want to be up, Up, UP.  You stand up for minutes at a time if someone holds you.  You love it.  You haven’t really taken any steps yet, but at this rate, you may just skip crawling.

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Your love affair with food continues.  You have discovered the colorful world of puffs and they are your everything.  The subtleties of the snack pack container currently elude you, but you will not be denied.  You cram a few puffs in your fist at once and then work them out to your mouth.  It is quite the operation.  Your love affair with puffs has, of course, rekindled your brother’s previously dormant desire for puffs.  Choline for everyone!  Including the floor.  Especially the floor.  These things are like a magnet for the feets.

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You are becoming pretty sensitive about noticing that you do not have what others have.  “I have apple bits, but you have apple slice!  Unfair!!”  Things like this.  I promise to try to provide you with as many developmentally appropriate equivalents as possible, but as my mom always says, life isn’t fair.

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You’ve been bunking in our room because of Nana’s visit.  I’d endure much more to spend time with Nana, but I’ll be glad for you to go back to your room.  Man, you make some noise at night.  First, there is the serious leg jackknifing.  Then, in the early morning hours, you start conducting your own talk show.  I don’t know what it’s about or who your guests are, but everyone sounds pretty happy.  A few times I know I’ve fed you when I probably wouldn’t have usually, just to get you to wrap up your set.  Maybe you and your brother will be ready to try bunking together for our next guests this spring.  (We opted not to try this visit after Munich when your brother would scream “MACKLES” at your crib once you finally settled down.)

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Speaking of your brother, the Stockholm syndrome continues.  You look at him like a brainwashed cult member.  James commented that some highlights of your day were being tackled by Henry.  You don’t always love being manhandled, but you do love your brother.  One of my favorite parts of the day is at bedtime when Henry tells you goodnight and “I’ll love you in the morning.”  This seems to be Henry’s mashup of hearing “I love you” and “I’ll see you in the morning.”  This could definitely be a new family phrase.

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Your brother just started day care a few mornings each week.  This means that you and I have some quality togetherness time to take on Rome.  Unfortunately, I’ve been developing some soreness in my side after wearing you in your carrier, but I never let silly little things like that stop me.  Let’s see what mischief we can get up to.

Love, Mom

 

Thoughts from my Sick 8 Month Old

[This was written earlier.  He’s not sick again.]

Poor little guy.  My baby is having his first real illness.  Fever, cough, and runny nose.  My sleep-deprived little brain put together some thoughts from the baby as I went in to administer his first Tylenol of the day.

Hey, Mom.  Mom.  Mom. MOM.  Where are you going?  Don’t go!  Let’s stay and cuddle.  Come on, you look like you need this.  You look tired and a little out of it and, dare I say, cranky?

Ah, that’s better.  Weren’t you just saying how I never cuddle anymore?  I know I’m all independent and #bossbaby all the time, but I still love you.  Let’s have a cuddle.  This one’s on me.

Ooo, the rocker.  Good call.  Let’s get comfortable.  Not there.  Uh, not there.  Ah, yes.  That’s better, right?  I mean, I’m really comfortable!  Your arm is kind of at a funny angle, but you aren’t moving so we’re cool, right?

You have a lovely singing voice.  Were you classically trained?  NO?!?  Well, it’s beautiful.  Don’t ever stop.  Haha, just kidding.  OK, not really.  Don’t stop.  Did I say stop?

Isn’t this nice?  It’s just like when I was really little and we used to cuddle and watch crap TV and you felt kinda guilty about sending my brother to day care so that we could cuddle and watch crap TV.  It went pretty fast didn’t it?

Haha, nice try, Mom.  I know you think I want to be put back in my crib, but I am willing to make this sacrifice FOR YOU.  Don’t put me down.  You need this cuddle.  I’ll let you cuddle me instead of getting beauty sleep back in my crib.  It’s just my generous nature.  That’s right.  I’m a giver.

Is it time for more Tylenol yet?  No?  Well, that’s OK.  We’ll get through this day together, Mommy.  Promise.  I’ll be with you every step of the way.  I’ll never leave your side!  My brother can take care of himself I’m sure.  Toddlers are known for their resilience and ability to entertain themselves.  You and me.  Let’s have a cuddle.