Mommy! I look just like you!
Me: Not sure you have enough babies.
Jimmy: Nailed it. (eyes bugging out of head).
xoxo
S
wordless (ish?!?!?!) wednesday
One of Those Perfect Italian Moments
I’ve been a bit frustrated lately. It’s tough sometimes being in a country where you don’t speak the language, even though you desperately want to.
Let’s be honest. I am an extrovert. I crave conversation, I crave being around and communicating with other people. That’s damn hard when you don’t speak the same language as everyone else does. A smile only goes so far. 🙂
It’s tough learning to drive in a country where the rules are all different. Where cyclists fly out NOWHERE in front of you at every turn. White knuckles, to say the least.
Its tough getting used to a “it gets done whenever it gets done” way of life when you’ve depended so long on efficiency.
With that being said, it all balances out.
The beautiful things about this country FAR outweigh the frustrating ones.
And the other day when I was a bit down (missing my family and friends, feeling aggravated) I had one of those perfect Italian moments.
I sat at my kitchen table, drinking coffee and listening to the church bells pealing. This was my view:
Right then and there I decided to combat the blues with a little neighborhood walk.
I loaded Cate and Lucy into the wagon and first we stopped by the little produce store on our block. I looked up how to say everything I wanted…I’m determined to try to speak Italian as much as possible.
I managed to communicate quite well and I didn’t even feel embarrased or frustrated!
One thing I’ve noticed here is that you make an effort…if you really try to speak and learn Italian, the locals really appreciate it and respond in a really positive and helpful way.
Then we went into a shoe store and got the girls sneakers. Again, I did okay on the Italian and that made me feel even better.
Sidenote: I kept thinking “There are so many stores called Saldi here!” and then I realized Saldi means “sale”. Ummm. Way to go Stephanie. Bahaha.
After some retail therapy, we went into Gelaterie Sofia and had arugula, cheese and prosciutto sandwiches. Accompanied by a nice cold Fanta, of course. The Fanta here is amazing. A bit bitter and not sugary sweet like American orange soda.
We also shared a mushroom risotto that was INCREDIBLE. You should have seen Cate and Lucy devour it. More,Mommy…MORE!
Then we had to get gelato. Of course.
The girls were screaming FRAGOLA GEYATO! FRAGOLA GEYATO! So strawberry it was.
I loaded them in the wagon and we walked back home.
I was eating my gelato, pulling my babies through town, and I was so happy.
People stopped us every few steps to fawn over the twins. They love love love children here. Even a group of 20 something guys stopped and were going on and on about how cute they are. HA!
A Canadian couple stopped me to ask for directions and I actually knew the answer!
Nuns paused to talk to us, A man on a bicycle gave the girls a flower as he rode by….
and it was just PERFECT. A perfect Italian moment.
The kind of moment I’ll hold on to when I’m frustrated and overwhelmed and in over my head.
Ciao Ciao!
S
there she goes…
6:30 am and I was half asleep in the kitchen. Holding my warm cup of coffee between my hands like a lifeline…gulping it down and thinking I really should wake the girls up.
Sadie skipped into the kitchen, blonde bob all mussed and the biggest crooked grin on her face. She yelled “I’M IN KINDERGARTEN!”, lunged at me, and clung to me for just a second.
And in that second I closed my eyes and prayed a brief prayer. Please God let me be here for every first.
I helped her get dressed in her new H&M dress she picked out weeks ago. She had painstakingly arranged her outfit on the floor last night, including some pink cowboy boots that Harper recently handed down to her.
She asked for a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast. But she didn’t eat very much because she said her tummy was nervous. She paused between bites and asked me questions.
Was she going to have fun? Would it be scary? What if she missed me?
What if she forgot to brush her teeth and had “stink breath” for the first day of school? Yes. These were her concerns.
So we talked.
She checked and double checked her lunch. She was very concerned that I would forget to put a special note in her lunch. As if.
She had me brush her hair twice and asked that I add a little detangling spray. She said she wanted to look “appropriate”.
She brushed her teeth, put on her backpack, and told me it was time for me to take her first day of school pictures.
I tell you, this child knows exactly what she wants.
Then we headed through the courtyard out onto the street to get in the van to head to school.
She hides it well, but she was a little nervous. I know her like the back of my hand. I know her like I know myself. But I don’t let on.
All the way onto post for school Harper, Cate and Lucy were chattering and singing.
Sadie? Not a word. I caught her eyes in the rearview mirror a couple of times and told her how much fun she was going to have and how much I love her. How proud of her I am. How proud her Daddy is.
But what if I miss you mommy? I like being with you all day. Thea babies are going to miss me. What are they going to do without me? What are you going to tell them?
Man, that kid slays me.
As we walked up she reached over and grabbed Harper’s hand.
They hugged goodbye, and just like that Harper was off playing with her friends waiting for the bell.
Sadie looked a little adrift and I felt her clammy little hand grab mine.
But that moment was gone in a heartbeat. She saw her teacher and her aide (she ADORES them both) and went right to them.
One look back at me:
“Mommy, why are you crying?”
“That’s what mommies do. Do you want me to stay or go?”
“You can leave.”
Two tiny hands in mine, two little topknots bouncing, back to the van. Buckling those tiny topknots in with tears in my eyes…wondering how that happened so quickly.
It stung a tiny bit to be dismissed so easily but just a TINY bit. More than anything I was proud that she was so strong and brave. And it was one of those we must be doing something right moments.
Atta girl, Sadie.
I’m that mom. The one who was ready for them to go to school. SO over the bickering and the tattling and the name calling. But what is it about seeing your children vulnerable? It’s heart breaking. It swoops in and takes your “I’m not going to cry” best intentions and tosses them right out the window.
You know what’s terrifying? The fact that parenting never stops being terrifying. The fact that it’s one big bundle of joy and fear and panic and frustration and beauty.
Love to you all.
xo
Miss Harper Takes on Second Grade.
My girl is a second grader.
This is so strange to me because I used to teach second grade. And those kids seemed so big!
Now…I know that 7/8 isn’t old, but you know what I mean.
And now my baby girl is a second grader! And my first crop of second graders is in college. Sigh.
She was a bit nervous, as she always is. New school, new kids, new grade.
And of course a new outfit. Y’all know Harper. 🙂 She AGONIZED.
This actually wasn’t her first choice. Sadie spilled juice on her first choice at breakfast.
We won’t even get into the drama that ensued. And Sadie swears up and down it wasn’t intentional. Hmmmm.
Moving on. She rocked her first day. Big smile, big headband, big heart. I love her so much.
I had to take a few first day portraits with my DSLR. My courtyard has the most gorgeous backdrop for portraits, don’t you think?
And can y’all guess my very favorite of all of these photos? Can you guess the one that makes my heart ache because it’s full of so much love and joy?
Hint…the photo documents a first.
Ciao Ciao and love to you all. xoxo
S
Where to Start?
So. This will be long. I don’t like not blogging. So I have some words built up in me. Apologies in advance. 🙂
Now that I’m out of the land of no-internet-exile…
Where to begin? Let’s see.
The movers came.
They brought everything up into our apartment on this tiny lift. You see, it’s about a zillion stairs just to get up to our apartment. And the stairs are NARROW.
Hence this contraption. I said a prayer and let it go. No time for worrying.
The Italian movers? Were amazing. There were seven of them. One was about 80 and his name was Gigi. He had an eye patch.
He knew I didn’t speak Italian but he LOVED me and would go on long winded tirades in Italian. I would just smile and nod. He let me ride up and down on the lift on the back of his truck.
One looked like a German bearded Harley rider. One was the perfect cross of Jason Statham and Hugh Jackman.
One was ridiculously handsome and charming and drew me a map to the best wine store in Vicenza. They all treated our belongings the way they should be treated. Like treasures. Memories.
The results from America? Not so amazing.
All of the glass Christmas ornaments that I’ve lovingly collected since the beginning of our marriage? Smashed.
Tables, armoires, dressers, headboards and footboards, framed photos…broken.
I found my Mac Desktop and my John Derian trays shoved in boxes with other items. With no wrapping around them.
Gigi went on and on in Italian. All I caught were the words “American brutes!”. German Harley rider and Hugh Jackman taught me curse words in Italian. It was very helpful.
Moving on. What else has happened?
We unpacked. Pretty much all of it in 2 days. I’m GOOD after so many moves. Not afraid to toot my own horn.
We explored our neigborhood:
(their birthday is 24 november)
and walked/explored our neighborhood some more:
I found out that Italian groceries sell liters of prosecco for less than 2 euro. That’s what you get for living in the birth place (well, region) of prosecco!
We went grocery shopping dressed like this:
I discovered my new favorite drink is Prosecco Spritz with a dash of raspberry.
We attended our first Italian carnival.
Oh yes.
I also got my debit card eaten by an Italian ATM machine.
I ate too many pasta dishes and too many clams. I had too much gelato. For the record? Nocciola is still my favorite.
I tried, and failed horribly, to speak Italian. Usually the Italians take pity on me and start speaking English. I don’t like this. How will I learn? 🙂
I had my washer and dryer delivered and undelivered 3x because they kept bringing the wrong kind, then they forgot the lift, then they brought the wrong kind of lift that couldn’t fit in my courtyard.
I had a long conversation with a nun on my street. I understood maybe 1/3 of it.
I drove. A lot. And stopped gripping the steering wheel so hard.
Lucy stuck her ciocallato gelato on Harper’s bottom. The Italians laughed so hard.
I tripped the breaker. Lots. Still don’t know why.
I navigated a Chinese buffet where everyone spoke Italian and I had NO idea what to do.
I filled up my car for the first time.
I tried to explain bidets to our girls.
I tried to bake 12 minute break and bake cookies in my oven. It took one hour. And they still weren’t cooked.
Don’t think I’ll be cooking poultry anytime soon.
Ciao Ciao!
S