something in the water

Almost every American woman I've met here in Italy is currently pregnant or just had an infant. The Navy Hospital is pretty much a Labor and Delivery hospital. I'm not kidding when I say there's something in the water over here. A friend who was determined not to get pregnant during her time here said she would just avoid the water and only drink wine. She got pregnant a couple of months before she left...

Naturally, lots of pregnant people means lots of baby showers. A couple of weeks ago, I attended a shower for four expecting mamas.Yep. Four!

This past weekend, we had the honor of hosting a shower for a couple whose baby is due any day now. 

We fired up the pizza oven, indulged in some cake balls (which, again portray my lack of skills in the craft department), played bacci ball, and had an all around good time.

 
Stephen and Jennifer were our "sponsors" when we moved here. That means, they contacted us months before we arrived and told us what to expect. They were very thorough, and we've appreciated all they've done for us.

This is their first baby, and they are pretty nervous, but I have no doubt they'll be great parents.

 Good luck, you two.

And for those of you wondering whether I am pregnant. No. I am not.

Not yet.

I better watch what I'm drinking.

sick bug

Graham ended up catching the sick bug I had a couple of weeks ago. He keeps asking how a bug got in his tummy and how we can get it out. Poor guy.

Please send some positive vibes this way so that he can get back to his old self.

photography practice

The main reason I want to learn how to photograph is to catch glimpses of people in candid moments. I think a good photographer can capture the beauty of a person without that person even knowing.

I went to a birthday party for a two-year-old last weekend. I practiced taking candid shots. I was lucky to have such beautiful subjects.

Here are the results.

Oh, and this two-year-old just happens to have a new baby brother.  I promise his mom wasn't posing for this shot. Just laughing at something. Gorgeous.

I know. You just want to hold him.

more on acculturation

Not many young boys in Italy are seen without a soccer ball nearby. Of course, Graham has to have his soccer clothes on when he plays. Did you know they call the game, "calcio" (pronounced "cal-choh) over here? Not football, like you might think. Or, at least that's what I thought.


 Pizza is always cooked with the heat from a wood fire. All the restaurants have pizza ovens,

 
 
and, as you can see, we are pretty excited to have one in our yard.  


We also drove into the city last weekend and didn't have heart attacks or strokes. We didn't get lost or take any wrong turns. We actually thought, "Huh, that wasn't so hard." We didn't even feel a bit of tension as we sat in traffic for an hour. Looks like we're getting used to things around here. 

I still can't get accustomed to seeing this every evening, though.

I'm not sure I ever will.

acculturation

Acculturation: noun, the process of adopting the cultural traits or social patterns of another group.

This is what I am currently drinking.

It is what we like to call "fizzy water." Rarely do you see an Italian with a bottle of "still water." I used to think the fizziness was weird and kind of gross, but now I find it enjoyable and soothing on the tummy.

I've got more to say on this topic of acculturation, but you'll have to excuse me, because right now I am gulping fizzy water and being swallowed by this book.

 I'll be back when I'm finished with it.

take a break

 

Now that we've established that I spend most of my time being a bit out of my element in the domesticity department, I don't mind telling you that on Saturday, I took a break. While Tony and Graham were digging outside, I traded in my sweatpants for some jeans and declared that I was going to the Bacoli market and then to the nearby cafe to read.

And that is what I did.



And it was delightful.



On Sunday, I decided not to abandon my family. Instead, I took my boys with me on a drive through the Almafi Coast and got serenaded over a long lunch at our favorite restaurant overlooking the town of Positano.




Sometimes it seems unreal, but this is my life. I am just trying to embrace and enjoy all aspects of it right now.

I don't know about all you other mamas, but I cannot survive without a few breaks now and then. And by now and then, I mean at least once or twice a week. You should try it.

I'd highly recommend it.

casalinga disperata

Yesterday, I got the Valentine, stay-at-home-mom spirit. I went for a nice jog with the stroller, I climbed on a ladder to clean all our ceilings, I folded all the laundry, and straightened up the rest of the house. Then, Graham helped me make heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies with red frosting and a Valentine card for Tony. Finally, I made a nice dinner of salmon, spinach, sweet potatoes, and red wine, and managed to take a shower at some point.

Dare I call myself a domestic goddess?

Well, maybe. Except that despite my best efforts, our ceilings are still dirty, there's still laundry hanging, the house is never, ever clean, I realized that what I thought was Italian butter I put in the cookies was decidedly not butter, so the cookies tasted weird and they didn't look like hearts, the delicious white-chocolate frosting looked like disgusting goop after I put the food coloring in it, the Valentine card was a disaster of grand proportions, the salmon was dry, I gagged on the spinach, the red wine tasted like fish, and my shower was cold, so I didn't get very clean. Gross.

See, these would be the cookies of a domestic goddess:

And these were mine:

Nope, I don't think I'm ready for the term, "domestic goddess." I think I'll stick with "casalinga disperata."

Translation: "desperate housewife."