It all starts tomorrow. At 6am. Of course.
First we fly to Florida, for a little over a week. Paul returns to Rome. Phoebe and I go on to Seattle, for a little over two weeks. Rendezvous in Rome. So…
- 3 countries
- 2 states
- 9 time zones
- 2 parents
- 1 baby
- 0 dogs (this time)
- 1 million pieces of luggage
Wish us luck!
Not necessarily a fan of the elements. On Phoebe’s first snow day, she was less enthusiastic than we’d hoped.
But as with swimming in the summer, we think she’ll catch on. There should be plenty of chances too. Yesterday’s adventure was only an hour and a half outside of Rome by car; suddenly we’d left behind the city and found…winter!
We’ll go again and next time we’ll bring two things: a sled and Carter.
Filed under Life, Phoebe, Trips
We were apprehensive at first. The apartment has an open fireplace and we were told “it works”. But still, the idea of lighting even a portion of your apartment on fire seems daunting. But two Duraflames (plus a bowl of popcorn and a movie) later, we’re wondering why we didn’t get the fires going earlier! Nothing is more cozy.
Except maybe a beard.
For the first half of her two-part Euro-vacation, Jen visited us in Rome this week. For a few nice days we walked, ate, talked…then did it all again.
Phoebe too. Vantage point: Bugaboo.
Filed under Phoebe, Sights
So many places to play…
so little time before her nap.
Filed under Phoebe, Trips
The women in Italy aren’t kidding around. Even at the playground, any self-respecting mother will be wearing tight black pants, high heels and a top that either produces or enhances cleavage. Then there is the makeup. Lots of it. The term for this look (yes, there is one) is called la bella figura. It means cutting a good figure. In As the Romans Do, a hilarious and t00-true book I’m reading now, there’s an entire chapter called “La Bella Figura: The Flesh and Flash of Roman Women”.
I’m used to it by now. Traffic cops in four-inch, sparkling heels. The gelato shop girl in an off-the-shoulder sweater, after all one must stay cozy in the winter. But when I got this ad for pizza delivery in the mail, along with our electricity bill and a belated Christmas card from my Grandma (insert joke about incredibly slow Italian mail), well…
But the pizza does sound pretty good.
Heading out of the restaurant, we met an Italian couple who were there with their family. The inevitable result: twenty minutes of cooing, cuddling and extremely difficult-to-understand conversation.
Italians seem to adore children, a cultural aspect we’re enjoying very much. However, this one seemed a little intense…
In the end, we packed her up and headed home. Phoebe. Not the Italian woman.
Last weekend Dan and Amy organized a great lunch in the country. The ex-pat group made our way out to the restaurant for a sunny afternoon full of food, friends and fun. Wine on the table, kids running around, parents up and down. As Paul said its the kind of thing you associate with Italy and France, in the best way.