Like the Roman conquerors of yore, The Baby Blogs takes on Rome - and wins!

Admiring the fountain outside the Pantheon - while threatening to jump in

Apparently parents can get the upper hand over their kids in a devious effort to exact a tedious and demanding form of revenge. This one involved walking around all of Rome for eight hours in the torturously blazing sun to see old stuff with millions of other people. And then, after a brief respite, these parents corral these same children out for dinner, walking - again - to find a ristorante where eating was the last thing on the kids' agenda.

In fact, as we dragged behind while they pushed through to see new things and new places and new menu items, occasionally my parents exchanged sinister smiles about how they are finally getting revenge on their own offspring for waking them up at 5 o'clock every morning of their lives after not sleeping through the night and for preventing sane mealtimes and hot coffee. Oh yes, they forced us to be on their schedule to see and to eat all sorts of things we could care less about.

Can you see the joy on our faces as we eat, again, at an Italian ristorante?

Forced smile and feeding at a late night dinner

But beware parents. In the end, the parents still lose. Meltdowns are fast and furious at dinner tables especially when all three children go into catatonic states as their bodies literally shut down. The meltdowns are powered by fists slamming on the table, challenged fine motor skills when handling glassware and scathing words such as:

"I HATE this day. I hate EVERYthing."

"When are we going home??!!"

"No!"

Even promises of dessert followed by threats to withhold dessert do no get through to the beleaguered children.

Gelato and its aftermath

Trevi Fountain! Our wish? To not come back any time soon!

And so, the parents, who endeavored to eat their way through Rome, succumb to the pressure and pick the first restaurant they find, rather than the one recommended. They rush through ordering, not having read the entire menu and surely having meal regrets. And they eat fast, if at all, as they attempt to feed us, with a pit of pressure in their stomach trying to prevent us from creating a "scene" at the ristorante. I myself took not one bite of a most delicate lasagna adorned with both beciamele and bolognese sauces. We rushed to our apartment in Trastevere and were in bed at 11 p.m. -- hours past our usual bedtime.

And the next day, we awoke promptly at 6 o'clock in the morning and rallied our parents to attend to our needs immediately.

Thus my parents found themselves in this exact scenario yesterday on a cloudless and searing day in the ancient Roman Empire.

Random beautiful fountain on random
beautiful cobblestone alley

And the winner here is... moi!

Mommy and daddy often ask themselves: Are we brave or are we stupid? This is a toss up that only history will determine. Although the odds are leaning heavily toward stupid for taking three young kids to ancient Rome.

Because who takes three young children, all of them hyperactive and with some sort of special needs, to a beast of a city in the hot Mediterranean summer? To a city where the streets and their drivers are unforgiving? To a place that attracts millions of tourists a day, causing lines of two hours apiece at the most famous monuments?

But in between the battle of the wills, we did see some amazing sites and even ate at the most special of restaurants. One mission, during our journey to Rome, involved visiting Locanda dei Girasole. This ristorante is staffed by adults with T21, or sindrome di Down, in Italiano.

The establishment, and its purpose to employ capable people who otherwise wouldn't have had a shot, was very special. And of course, the food was delicioso. 

But even this could not be thoroughly enjoyed or appreciated when the meltdowns ensued. Here is a pictorial of the aftermath of another late night out in Rome:

Nevertheless, despite these minor (er hmm) glitches, we are basking in the glory of Rome. We are eating the best pastas we've ever had (at least my parents are eating it), ticking off the list of Roman specialities of Carbonara, Amatriciana, Cacio e Pepe. We are swooning to the melodic Italian language. And we are creating great memories through photos that don't always portray the angst of the moment.

And all the while, mommy and daddy are plotting their inevitable and desired return. Without children.

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A Time to Say Goodbye

Nanni had double trouble on her hands for SEVEN full weeks

WIth our visit to Villa Mosconi, Lucas has completed Phase One of his Italian heritage indoctrination after seven weeks in New York. (When it comes to our family, being in New York can qualify, to a good degree, of Italian immersion.) And that means we can now safely return to Israel. With very full stomachs.

When I arrived in New York way back on March 8, all of the trees on Mimi and GongGong's neighborhood were awash in white blossoms. It was almost like snow but instead it was unseasonably warm, pleasant weather. As the weeks passed, we watched the white blossoms recede into green leaves. Now the leaves are fully green and we are leaving behind a verdant - believe it or not - New York City. I guess you can say we passed a season here.

Bye bye New York

That is certainly true for Lucas. Seven weeks is a lifetime in the life of a baby. Well, maybe not technically, but symbolically. The little brother left Israel a little baby and is returning there as a little man. Some of his many milestones include finding his voice in the midst of a loud Italian family, developing his own brand of baby language, adjusting to my screaming and even responding to my soliloquies, laughing, ridding himself of the Nazgul shriek, grasping objects and successfully entering them into his mouth.

Ok so Bob was a large target but he also managed to get
the teething ring into his mouth

Lucas spent quality time with Calvin...

...And of course with Nanni

Lucas got his gazing time thanks to
Nanni who had no problem gazing right back

Lucas and Nanni are at a perfect juncture for each other. While I'm a tad rough and hyper active for a great grandmother, Lucas is at that docile stage where he mainly requires just instant eye contact. In fact, we call him the gazer because direct eye contact brings peace to his soul. Nanni was just the perfect person to provide him with that need. And so gazed they did for most of the trip here.

I also traversed a few milestones as well, although at my advanced age these come more slowly than the infant phase of babyhood. One of the big ones was donning a pair of shoes, an odd but necessary addition to my new phase of life. Others included incessant cruising, dancing, baby steps, Nutella Pizza, pasta fagiole (popularly known as fazul), artichoke ravioli with triple sec sauce and bruschetta. Delicioso!

What are these clunkers on my dainty feet?

The clock is now ticking down to our departure. Three hours until we head to the airport. Sadly, we are leaving behind wonderful family and great times. And sadly, we are going home to fewer friends in Israel.

But go we must. I have other grandparents to entertain. My buddies in my Shalva class are awaiting me as are my teachers, therapists and all my adoring fans. So fare thee well and my next blog will be in a couple of days from the other side of the ocean!

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Il Uomo Perfetto

The Man meets The Man

Prior to this NY visit, it was unbeknownst to me that I have a cousin on Popi's side (Popi's first cousin) who, just like me, is considered Il Uomo Perfetto. 

The Perfect Man. 

I met Carlo Spagnoli during my marathon trip to New York. Unlike ships passing in the night, our trips miraculously coincided. Carlo hails from the small yet indomitable town of Borgo Taro, a tiny mountain village that produced some famous people, like accordionist Pete Spagnoli (my grandfather), Porcini mushrooms and the cows that make Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. Carlo came to visit family in the US for just a short week. But lucky for me, for one of his valued stops, he visited Nanni with his nephew Joseph. We found out that same morning that he was making the journey to Long Island. And with that sort of adrenaline, my parents managed to feed and clothe us then throw us in a car in record timing so that we could all converge at Nanni's apartment for our grand meeting of the Perfect Men.  

Bonus: Almost everyone in our family made it despite the
last-minute surprise

Lucas meeting his first genuine off-the-plane Italian!

Carlo was long crowned Il Uomo Perfetto when the famiglia met him in Borgo Taro in 1998. While spying on the Piazza near the Hotel Firenze (where all the men hang out since nobody seems to need to work) the family noted that Carlo is the popular guy around town. He showed my family some of the best places to eat in.the.entire.world right there in Borgo Taro.

Here I am learning to read Borgesan (an Italian dialect)
with Carlo and Joseph. (Ok it was English)

Here we are with Nanni as Carlo and myself exchange
trade secrets of the Uomo Perfetto

And a successful visit was had by all!

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