Our Vacation in Cefalù

Our vacation was wonderful. Idyllic, really. It's the first vacation that I've had that had virtually no scheduled time, and we spent the days doing as we liked, with no real plans or itineraries. I've never understood the value of spending several lazy, unstructured days at a beach, but I think I might have had an epiphany. Spending five days at a beach town is the perfect family vacation when you have a toddler.

Travel to and from Cefalù was fairly easy. We flew from Rome into Palermo, then took a train to the town. Active travel time was only about three hours, although there was some waiting-around time, too. Even so, the day we arrived we had plenty of time to check into our lovely apartment that we had reserved through airbnb, and explore the town.

Indigo was immediately and totally enthralled with the sea. This was her first

Her first look

time at the beach, actually, and she could not get enough of it. She was much braver than I had anticipated, and went immediately to water's edge and cautiously stuck some toes in. She then screamed, half in shock from the cold and half in delight, ran back up to dry sand, and did it again. And again. And again. The entire time she yelled, rapturously, "The sea! The sea, Mama! Come in the sea!" And I did.

So begins my child's deep love for beach bum life. I'm going to have to take her to my father's house extra-often this summer, so that we can go to the beach out there.

We developed a leisurely routine, which involved some light outings in the mornings: obtaining un cornetto (croissant) or una ciambella (a donut) or other various yumminess; playing around the Piazza Duomo, taking a walk around the city center, or letting Indigo burn off energy at a nearby playground. Then we'd break for lunch and Indigo's nap (when we would also nap, or take turns walking around. After Indigo woke up, we'd go go the beach for a few hours, then get gelato, relax, and eventually get cleaned up and go out to dinner. After Indigo was asleep Josh and I took turns going out to our hosts' nephew's bar, where we could use the wifi for free.

After the beach, the Duomo was Indigo's favorite place to visit. She called it "the castle" and declared herself its Queen. We spent long stretches of time at the top of the Duomo's steps, where she capered and danced to the amusement of onlookers.

One of the nicest things about Cefalù is the warmth and friendliness of its locals. People greeted us constantly. They didn't know us; they were just being nice. Italians, of course, adore children, and Indigo often gets a lot of attention even here in Rome. But in a small town where people are more relaxed and have more of that small-town friendliness, their love of children was even more apparent. We went to a little market our first day in town, and every day afterwards the shopkeeper would wave to us. People gave Indigo candy and oranges. One older gentlemen made a Pinocchio puppet dance for her. Waitstaff doted on her. She got a casual, "Ciao, bionda," ("hi, blondie") a few times. In Rome there are some blondes, but in Sicily, not so much. We befriended a family on top of the Duomo steps one night (and one of the women helped save Indigo from a nasty tumble down the steps), and played Ring Around the Rosy - in both English and Italian - with their two kids. It was all just wonderfully, impossibly sweet.

We ate a lot of seafood. At least, Josh and I did. And lots of baked goods. I even managed to eat an entire piece of marzipan, although it took me the better part of the day to do it. It was so sweet! Speaking of sweets, they don't scrimp on the sugar in Sicily. Do you know, that it's typical for them to eat brioche or a cornetto filled with gelato for breakfast?! Yes. Sicilian children eat ice cream for breakfast. At least sometimes. It's a little nauseating. But also so good.

We had originally planned on taking a few day trips, or maybe to hike up La Rocca (the big rock in the middle of the town), but decided to be lazy and hang out on the beach instead. The weather was fairly warm, although mostly overcast, which made playing in the sea and sand pleasant for me, as I don't tolerate heat well.

La Rocca rising up behind the beach

The one morning trip we did take was a leisurely stroll along the sea and around La Rocca to the weekly market. The market was lively and clearly a staple of small-town Sicilian life, but my favorite part was the walk itself, and the views we saw on the way. In particular, there were a lovely mysterious bunch of ruins jutting out of a rocky outcropping. What were they? we wondered.

Usually by the time a vacation winds to a close, I'm ready to return home. Not this time, though. I could have happily stayed for a few more days. Our last day was perfect, and I'll never forget Indigo's delighted squeals as we chased a tiny fish through shin-deep water, or of her pride in being able to finally slurp her spaghetti noodle at dinner, sucking it in her mouth in one neat movement. Or of Josh's face and body, looking utterly relaxed and happy for the first time in a long, long time.

It was the perfect vacation, and I feel renewed. Refreshed. And ready to take on these last six weeks here in Rome.

Let me share a few more of our photos:

It's Springing!

Spring has been out in full force for a couple weeks here in Rome. I meant to post about the budding loveliness a while ago, but one thing or another has kept me procrastinating. Just as well - waiting means that I have lovely photos of the wisteria that is blooming all over the Academy and Monteverde. I don't recall seeing wisteria bloom in any places I've lived previously - I'm sure that it exists, somewhere, but it's just not a plant that I've had much first-hand experience with. I am completely smitten. It's beautiful, it's romantic, it's fragrant - I just want to stand underneath the falling blossoms and inhale.

They are the latest of the lot; we've been seeing flowers on all the trees for a few weeks, and now the petals are beginning to slowly drift to the ground. Every day on the way to school Indigo asks, "What happened, Mama?" while pointing to a mass of fluffy pink on the cobblestone sidewalks. I'm amazed when I think that she probably doesn't remember her past two Springs. This may be her real first awareness of flowering trees, and of tiny baby plants poking up through the earth.

With the arrival of Spring, we're eating a lot of new peas and fava beans and asparagus. Some of the kitchen staff have begun to regularly sit outdoors in the afternoons, shucking peas and beans, and Indigo loves to help them. They are a gracious, friendly bunch. I dare say that we are actually helpful (me more than Indigo - she stuffs more fresh peas into her mouth than she puts in the bowl), so they are probably happy to have the help and conversation. Indigo loves helping so much that I'm thinking that when we return home, I'll look for a local farm that might welcome volunteers for an hour or so on the weekends. Why not? I'd love for Indigo to have the opportunity to learn more about food, and feel some pride in helping to make it. Speaking of gardening, and growing things, here is an image of part of the amazing Bass Garden, where some herbs and vegetables are grown.

The arrival of warmer weather has meant that we've gotten to spend a lot more time outdoors. I hear that the nightlife is back, and there are throngs crowding the streets in Trastevere. I have yet to verify this for myself, but I can believe it! The tourists are starting to crowd the daytime streets as well, and all of the "seasonal" businesses have begun to re-open. Last weekend we took a trip with another family here to an animal farm in Ostia. It was fantastic. It was a great opportunity for kids to see and interact and learn about a variety of domestic animals. In the center of the farm was a petting area, and some of the baby goats, sheep, rabbits and ducks were so small that they could slip out of their enclosures, and come right up to us for some food or a cuddle.

The biggest thing we're looking forward to this Spring is our trip to Sicily! We leave on Wednesday (in two days!!) and will be staying in Cefalu, which happens to be Josh's favorite place in the world. And soon to be mine? We'll find out!

Health Crisis Abroad, Part 2: Surgery

The day after my ER visit, I managed to get an appointment with the surgeon that my doctor recommended, Dr. Vitelli. Josh and I took a taxi to Clinica Mater Dei, a hospital way across town. I was fairly relieved to see how beautiful and modern and clean it was (after the ER experience, I was fearing the worst). We checked in, with some confusion - the administrator we spoke to said that the doctor was not in (even though we had an appointment), and that we'd have to wait for him.

I didn't panic, but I did worry that we'd taken an eighteen euro cab ride for nothing. After a short wait, though, the doctor himself came to collect us. He was quite tall, and my first impression of him (besides his quietly warm manner and firm handshake) was that he was impossible to keep up with. Of course, I was still feeling a great deal of pain, and had to sort of lurch after him. We took an elevator up to an office - but not his - and started to talk.

The short of it was that he believed that the gallbladder had to come out, and he said that he could do the surgery on Tuesday, with my intake on Monday. I was to stay at the hospital for three days. Usually, with such a routine surgery, people can be out of the hospital in 24 hours, but because of my anti/coagulation issues, they wanted to monitor me for longer. I was instructed to stop coumadin immediately and begin taking injections of heparin.

Mind whirling, we returned home and began to prepare. My mother-in-law, Candace, offered to come help us, and she arrived Monday morning. I received an outpouring of support from friends here at the Academy. Some people offered babysitting; some sent me books and magazines to read in the hospital; the head chef here even offered to make me special food since I was on a liquid diet. They were (are) all amazing.

Someone said to me on Sunday afternoon, "You're so calm!" I guess I was? I think in general, my emotions tend to manifest in big ways in the day-to-day. But when it's serious, I think I tend to rein them in. My main concern at that point, honestly, was Indigo. I sat her down a few times to explain that I was sick, and had to go to the hospital, but was going to be fine, and would be back in a few days. It was really important to me that her world be as untouched as possible - that her schedule remain the same, and so forth. I couldn't stop worrying about her, even though I was leaving her in the best hands: Josh and Candace.

Monday came, and off to the hospital we went. Josh came to get me settled in. I had a single room, which was really quite nice. "It's nicer than most hotel rooms in Europe," he remarked, which was true. I even had my own little balcony. After he left, I went through a battery of tests. I had an x-ray. An ultrasound of my gallbladder, liver and kidney. Later that afternoon, another ultrasound of all the points where I had previously had blood clots, to check and make sure that the blood flow was ok. I was jabbed with about 57 needles, and had an IV duct thing put in my hand. I saw the surgeon, the surgeon's assistant, an internal doctor, the anesthesiologist, and an array of nurses that fed me antibiotics, medication to protect my stomach, or took my blood pressure or give me a shot of heparin. I had my last meal; a very big lunch of pasta, potatoes, and steak (I was not allowed fruits or veggies).

And through it all, I was largely silent. The surgeon spoke perfect English, and the other doctors spoke some. A couple of the nurses knew enough (and I knew enough Italian) that we could sort of communicate. Sort of. But I existed on an English-speaking island for those three days, surrounded by an ocean of Italian - and it was very, very isolating. And lonely. I couldn't ask questions. I tried three times to call the number to get my Wi-fi password for my iPad, but could never understand what the person on the phone was saying. Even when a technician came to help me with the TV, they gave me the wrong information, and when I tried to get the correct information, I couldn't make myself understood. So I gave up. No internet or TV. Not a huge deal, since I had downloaded six books onto my iPad beforehand, but some contact with the English-speaking world would have been nice. I missed Indigo terribly. I cried, I missed her so much.

The very worst was right before surgery. I had been calm, for the most part, all day. A little anxious - mostly, it was hard to wait. Finally they came for me around 2:30. The nurses they sent for me spoke no English - they had to mime what I was to do to get ready. As I lay down on the stretcher wearing just a hospital gown I though, "Oh my god, this is it. What...?" but I couldn't ask anything. No one could tell me. When I'm nervous or feel out of control, I like to ask questions, or arm myself with as much information as possible. Do I seriously have to take of my rings? They're operating on the other side of my body!  I thought. Panic began to set in, and my heart was racing. Why is the operating room so cold? Is it to slow down my heart so that I don't bleed to death? They gave me something in my IV, and I almost instantly felt woozy. Presently I calmed, and felt a bit sleepy. At the time, I thought it was anesthesia, and worried that it wasn't working yet. Must keep eyes open. What if they think that I'm "out" and start cutting me open while I'm still awake?! I think now that they had probably given me some valium or something. They gave me something else and

...A slap. Another. "Ok, time to wake up," and another. Blearily I realized that the surgeon was slapping me awake. In another instant I realized that I was in horrible pain. I guessed it was over, then. I was suddenly in my room, and Josh was there. He was asking me something, but I literally could not form sentences. I got a few words out. I slept.

A few hours later I came to. I was still in terrible pain. Josh left, and that night was probably the worst night in memory. Labor was hard, and I was in pain afterwards, but it was nothing like this. I was not allowed to move off the bed, and I couldn't have, even if I had wanted to. There's a nerve that gets affected by the removal of the gallbladder, one that travels up the chest to the right shoulder. It throbbed in time with my heartbeat, and any little movement made it feel like a knife was being stabbed into my shoulder. I asked for painkillers a lot that night. Finally the nurses refused me (apologetically), saying that they had to "space the medicine out." I had a fever, but luckily a nurse opened the door for me, so that I could get some cool night air into the room. The muscles in my back screamed with tension, and because I could not shift my position for 16 or so hours.

But I got through it. The next day I was allowed to leave bed, and to eat some broth. The next day was even easier. I continued to live in a mostly-silent bubble. There was one nurse that I really liked; she was actually from South America, and Spanish was her native language. At one point she asked me a question in Spanish, and I answered her automatically, without realizing what language I had spoken. She was pleased (I suppose she could sympathize with being in a foreign country/speaking in a foreign tongue).

On the whole, I think the hospital experience was positive. Except for the communication factor, they took good care of me. I did have the sense that the staff cared, which is a big plus in their favor. I did feel at times, forgotten. I suppose that's to be expected, when I had absolutely minimal contact with anyone. I guess they would have come if I had kept buzzing for them, but I wasn't about to buzz them to my room just for a chat, even if I did speak the language. I've never had surgery before. Maybe you always feel isolated and alone? Frustrated? Lonely?

The other difficulty was the money. Our insurance pre-approved the surgery, but Mater Dei could not bill them directly. Which meant that we had to pay out-of-pocket...and file a claim to get reimbursed. The cost was staggering. It was a horrible shock. We had paid 4,000 euros when we checked in, which is what they charged for the surgery itself. But on check-out, we had to pay the balance, which included all the doctors' time, the tests, the room, every single itemized detail, down to the medication they gave me and the needles they used. We have the money, because we're building a house. But we need that money to build a house. So we're hoping and praying that we get our claim reimbursement before the contractor needs those funds. Or we're in big trouble. I don't know how we would have done this, if we hadn't been building a house. How do you pay big hospital bills in another country? If we said we couldn't pay it, would we have been arrested? No idea.

Not much more to say - I had a few painful days at home, but I was home. I was greeted by Indigo that first day yelling, "Mamamamamama!" and she climbed into my lap, and I didn't think of stopping her, even with the pain. I almost didn't recognize her. It had only been a few days but she looked...older. She wouldn't let me out of her sight for those first few days. I felt so grateful to be home.

And every day gets a little easier. As of today I am still tired and a little sore, but otherwise good. I got my stitches out. I have another week or so of giving myself injections before I can go back on coumadin, and a little longer before I'm really supposed to lift heavy things (ie, Indigo), and then I think I'm good. I feel better than I did pre-surgery, in a lot of ways. The surgeon said the gallbladder was so full of stuff and infected that it hadn't been working for some time, so I think I'd been sick for awhile. Hopefully the financial piece will get itself worked out, and then we can put this whole thing behind us.

Health Crisis Abroad, Part 1: Emergency Room

Anyone who talks to us or reads my Facebook status updates knows that this year has been challenging, health-wise. Even before this last bout with illness I had (not-so-jokingly) dubbed this year The Year We Were Always Sick. We had taken two trips with Indigo to the emergency room at Bambino Gesu, the local children's hospital, by November - once with a virus that had inflamed her hip so that she could not walk, and once with a bout of croup/pneumonia. We've contracted virus after virus since; partially because we're in a new country, with its own strain of nasty bugs, partially because we have a two-year-old who is still lagging in the hygiene department at times (and more importantly, so are her classmates, so she brings all their germs home). So most of the illnesses are probably normal(ish), even though they seem constant.

But even the unrelenting onslaught of illness didn't prepare us for what would happen if a true medical emergency occurred. Looking back, I think I've actually been sick for some time. I'd been feeling sluggish, fatigued, for a couple months. I had attributed to a general winter malaise - there's been a recent death in my family, and I am terribly homesick (and ready to go home to the States), and it's been dreary and grey. So I thought, reasonably, that I was feeling a bit down, and nothing more.

Then, the Thursday before last, I awoke with some minor back pain and some light queasiness. I brushed it off, thinking it would fade after breakfast. I took Indigo to school as usual, and then decided to go for a little walk. The pain increased, and I could tell that it wasn't really back pain, exactly. More like - some kind of weird pain inside my right ribcage, that was also manifesting in my back somehow. Abruptly I thought of my liver - the liver was there, right? The pain was too high to be a kidney. And not central enough to be the stomach or intestines. I turned back home, and as I walked the pain increased, and I soon began to feel very ill. I had to use all my willpower not to be sick, and finally made it home. And then abruptly was.

Josh had been waiting for me, because I had mentioned not feeling well. Now, suddenly, the pain accelerated, and I realized that I was in trouble. The pain was becoming unbearable, and I realized that it reminded me of when I had a kidney stone back in 2006. With a sinking feeling, I read the symptoms for a gallstone attack - and realized that if what I was feeling was indeed gallstones, then surgery was in my future.

We went to an emergency room straightaway at the hospital on the island in the Tiber River (Ospedale Fatebenefratelli). The next five and a half hours were hellish. No one at triage/reception spoke a word of English. I had not looked up the translation for "gallbladder" before we left home (hard to think of details like that while in severe pain). I tried to explain and finally just said, "Pain, pain!" and pointed to the area where I thought the gallbladder was. We then waited. And waited. And waited. I had to make frequent trips to the bathroom to be sick. There was no toilet paper or soap for washing up. I had, ridiculously, amazingly, thought to bring a toothbrush and toothpaste, so there was that comfort.

Finally, we saw a doctor. He promptly sent Josh out of the room (we think maybe, to assess whether it was a domestic violence issue?) and asked me some questions. I explained that I thought I was having a gallbladder attack, and he seemed to be half-listening, almost bored. (I know you're not supposed to turn to Dr. Google for self-diagnosis, but I'm actually very good at figuring out what's wrong with myself, and with Indigo).  I explained that I was in extreme pain. He examined me, asking if the pain was low, in my kidneys. "No, it's higher," I said.

"So does it hurt here," he said, and then he punched my kidney! I gasped, unbelieving. I guess I said no, although I wanted to shout, "Now it does, asshole!" but in reality I think I was trying not to be sick again, and thinking that if I pissed him off, I might not get any pain medication.

They hooked me up to an IV with something to help my stomach and sent me off to another room on a stretcher. There were 4 or 5 other people on stretchers. We waited. And waited. I was in agony. It felt like something was about to burst in my abdomen. There was pain with every heartbeat, so it almost felt like what I'd imagine a heart attack feels like. Still no pain meds. I got sent off to get an ultrasound done. To my surprise, the tech told me immediately that I had stones in my gallbladder. No - I was surprised by the stones - I was surprised that they told me. Techs in the US will never tell you what they find during a test. They always say that the doctor will discuss the results with you.

They then send me out in a wheelchair to wait in the hallway. We waited. And waited. Somehow I managed to doze, and to drink a little water. They forgot about us. After two hours, Josh went to talk to someone, and I saw another doctor, who did another ultrasound. "You have stones in your gallbladder, and it is inflamed, infected," he said. "It will need to come out."

I'd been prepared for this ever since I consulted Dr. Google, but Josh was not. It hurt, seeing the emotions race across his face: shock and terror and worry. I felt bad for not mentioning it before, but I was hoping I was wrong, that surgery would be unnecessary. This doctor finally gave me something for the pain (5 hours into our stay!), although it did little but take the edge off - apparently they couldn't give me anything stronger because I was on anticoagulants.

Home again. We divided and conquered. Josh went to collect Indigo from our amazing friends Katrin and Patrick, who had picked her up from school and brought her home. I called the insurance company to see what we'd need to do to get this surgery underway, then called my doctor in the US for a second opinion (she said it sounded like surgery was necessary) and my doctor in Italy, who gave me the name of a surgeon. Then we faxed a ton of paperwork to my doctor in the US who sent it in to the insurance agency for us, and booked an appointment with the surgeon for the next day.

Next: Surgery.

Il Carnevale Romano

Throwing confetti

In the USA, we don't usually celebrate Carnival, with the exception of New Orleans, which celebrates Fat Tuesday (Mardi Gras). Before coming to Rome, I had always associated the notion of Carnival with Brazil, actually. Venice too, perhaps, if I had given it a little thought. But it turns out that many places with a large Catholic population celebrate Carnival, which occurs right before Lent begins. Rome hosts a 10-day celebration throughout the city, consisting of street performances, parades, and many horse-centered events, including races. Our family has not gotten to many of the events, but we have seen some masked and costumed street performers, thrown lots of confetti, ridden on a carousel, seen a puppet show, and tomorrow Indigo is dressing up for Martedi Grasso - there is an all-school Festa di Carnevale at her preschool. And maybe we'll let her stay up a little later to see the end-of-Carnevale fireworks.

The puppet show that we saw last weekend is not actually part of Carnevale festivities, but runs year-round. It's called Teatro di Pulcinella Gianicolo, and is one of the few open-air puppet theaters around, and has been putting on performances since the 1950's.  You can watch the whole 15-minute performance here (it's in Italian, of course).

Here are a couple more pictures of Indigo, enjoying her carousel ride, and admiring her "Queen Dress" for the party tomorrow. And after tomorrow, it's Lent...I wonder how things will go, now that the Pope is resigning? If he steps down on February 28th, and they don't have a successor until the end of March, that doesn't leave much time to get someone in by the High Holy Week, culminating in Easter (March 31st this year). This will be a crazy month. Popetacular!

I'm on a boat!

Queen Indigo

Day Trip(s): Ostia Antica

One of the easiest day trips from Rome is to Ostia Antica, an archeological site that was once a harbor city for ancient Rome. The city was founded by King Ancus Marcius at the end of the 7th century BC, but the oldest structures uncovered by excavations are dated to the early 4th century BC. Maybe there are older buildings yet to be excavated, or maybe they were destroyed in various conquests, or maybe the original structures were not made out of materials that could stand the test of time. Still, 4th century ruins are probably the oldest man-made things that I've ever seen, and the site is damn impressive.

Cheerfully waving from the necropolis

It's an easy 30-minute train ride from Rome to Ostia, and then about a 10-minute walk from the train station to the site. The site is huge, and we've seen only a small part of it, despite having gone twice. It is a little kid's paradise - lots of wide open space with all these stones and half-walls and little rooms that can be climbed on, and hidden in, and played in. Indigo's a happy kid, and I've often seen her get excited by something, but I have never seen her as delighted and overjoyed as she was on our first trip to the site. I had to practically peel her away from climbing on the walls in the old necropolis (shudder) in order to go see anything else in the site. She could have happily played there for hours. Hours.

"Another rock!"

Indigo loved walking on the cobblestone street that winds through the center of the site. She painstakingly stepped from one to the next, over and over (which is why we never got very far in). We were literally surrounded by thousands, maybe even millions of stones on the ground or all around us in the ruins, and at one point, after another painstaking step, she stopped, looked at her next step, and exclaimed, "Another rock!"

Her favorite part of the site though (that we saw), were the little warehouses and shops near the Baths of Neptune. There were several little rooms that she could go in to and explore. She was beside herself - clearly this was the coolest place she'd ever seen. We had to peel her away from there, too - I had to use every distraction and bribe I could think of to get her to come away so that we could go see some other things.

Towards the warehouses

Hanging out in an ancient warehouse

I think food and milk was the bribe that ultimately worked - she had worked up an appetite from climbing around on top of 4th century BC ruins (crazy, right!?) We ended up having a picnic on a sun-warmed rock just outside the theater, and then we climbed around on rocks some more.

"Me? Up to something?"

We returned to the site when Josh's parents were in town. Indigo was less interested in climbing this time, and more interested in jumping in muddy puddles, but at least it meant that we got a little farther into the site, and saw a few new things. Raye and Candace were especially interested in seeing the theater, which was amazing.

A view of the theater from the top of the seating area

 The theater was acoustically perfect; Ray could speak in a normal tone of voice (he's in the red hat) from the ground, and Candace and I could hear him perfectly from all the way up in the back. Indigo, meanwhile, led her daddy on a merry chase back and forth through a tunnel, and managed to impress some Italians with her pronunciation of Italian words (that's my girl!)

So yes - if you are coming to Rome, definitely go for a day trip to Ostia Antica. It's really awe-some, and it's lovely, and so good to get out of the city for a bit. Here are a few more of my favorite photos from our trips:

The main road through the site

The perfect picnic spot

Even in January, it's lovely and green

Near the Baths of Neptune and the shopping district

Tunnel into the theater

Theater dramatic masks

"Ciao!"

A Week of Celebrations

As most of you know, Indigo's birthday is right between Christmas and New Years, so we pretty much spend a solid week celebrating, opening presents, eating special and delicious food, staying up late, and being merry. It's lovely, and it's...a lot. I think we've just finally begun to get back into the swing of our usual (Roman) routine, now that the excitement's died down a bit.

We had a fantastic visit with Josh's parents, who were able to spend the holidays with us here in Rome. Besides enjoying their good company, it was gratifying to watch them get to reconnect with Indigo. They hadn't seen her since last Spring, and she's changed so much since then. I think she probably astonished them. Kids - they're magical, you know?

We had a few little adventures and day trips (I'll write a post dedicated entirely to Ostia Antica later), but spent most of our time a bit closer to home, in order to show Raye and Candace the nearby areas.

This was not Raye and Candace's first trip to Rome, so they had already seen many of the major sites around the city. They had not gotten to see much of Trastevere, though, so we spent a lot of time exploring down there, since it's just down the hill from us, and is so fun to sight-see. Walks through town started Indigo's newest addiction to "pizza yanca" (pizza bianca), which is essentially pizza bread with olive oil and sometimes salt drizzled on top. She'd often devour the snacks I'd brought for her on our walks, and we'd have to buy a little something more for her, to avoid a meltdown. So now pizza bianca is a new favorite.

Christmas was so fun. While I always enjoy Christmas, it's so much more fun when you can share in a little kid's excitement. It's just so magical; we decorate a tree with toys, put up twinkling lights, eat special food, and then suddenly some old guy brings toys to the house! Amazing, right?

Indigo was a little overwhelmed, and it took a couple days to finish opening all of her presents (which is fine, except her birthday's on the 28th, and we had to start all over again). The biggest hit was definitely the play tent we got her, in the shape of a castle. She loves that thing - and now goes in every day to read books in there. Lovely.

 As I said, we took a day trip to Ostia Antica. We also went to Frascati, a small town famous for a number of villas, for its white wine, and also for its porchetta (roasted pork). The town was ok - pretty enough but since we didn't go to any of the villas, not that noteworthy - but the porchetta was amazing. It may be on my top 5 list of the best foods I've ever had. It's at least on the top 10 list. If you're in Italy, and decide you want to try it yourself, follow the instructions on this blog.

After we ate, Indigo used the leftover bread to feed the pigeons. That's Raye in the red hat and Josh sitting on the bench behind her. Doesn't she look incredibly tall in these pictures?!

And then, of course - Indigo's birthday. Who can believe she's two years old?! I can't. We had a small party with just the family and one friend - one of her teachers from school. We're going to do a bigger, many-kid party with some other birthday boys and girls in about a week.

And finally, New Years. Some people at the Academy organized gatherings throughout the week for the various holidays. We went to them all, enjoying having the chance to chat with other people in the community. After taking Indigo home to go to bed around 8, I was able to return to the party an hour later. I hadn't expected to stay that long, but it's been awhile since I've stayed up late, especially for New Years, so I thought, why not?

The party was up on the 4th floor balcony of the Academy building. There's a telescope up there, and I was able to use it to look at the moon - amazing. I don't think I've ever really looked through a telescope before. I could see craters and everything. It was incredible.

Midnight approached, and people began setting off fireworks. I think that the city launches some of its own, at the Piazza del Popolo and at the Colosseum, but fireworks are legal here, and so everyone - and I mean everyone - began shooting off their own. There's no good way to describe it, and no picture I took could possibly catch the spectacle we saw over the city. Fireworks bloomed in the sky at hundreds upon hundreds of places, all around the city. For a solid hour. Everywhere we looked (and we could see a great deal of the city from the top of our hill) we saw little starbursts exploding. It sounded, and smelled, like a warzone. It was crazy, and disorganized, and over-the-top. It was so Italian. I've never seen anything like it, and probably never will again.

 Happy New Year!