Day One

A first entry… what does one write about on the first entry of a blog when one doesn’t really understand what a blog is??

Our trip began in NC with a journey for an overnight stay at my beloved In-Laws who have allowed us to borrow their home as a hotel for the night. They left 2+ weeks ago, but their door is always open (so to speak) and this cut 300 miles off Tuesday’s drive… well worth it. The kids were exhausted b/c in an effort to fight jetlag DH and I woke them up at 5:30am… and I, too, could’ve used a nap… but there’s too much to do.

Tuesday was a 5am get up with a 7:30 departure b/c there was an additional 300 miles to drive to the airport. DC and Baltimore presented little traffic (God Bless HOV lanes), however, the layout of Newark geography presented a problem and the “long term parking” place we’d looked for… we continued looking for… in addition to a couple of U-turn opportunities as well as several un-named exit ramps that appeared to be heading in the wrong direction. What do you expect from a state where you can’t even pump your own gas??

Check-in presented few problems, 5 bags loaded, 2 carry-ons toted along behind… the line for security was next. No real problem until, unbeknownst to DH, I’d stashed the boys’ chess set in the carry-on… security didn’t care for the surprise. Ooops. Still, we moved along relatively unscathed… onto the “waiting area” where we had about an hour to kill before boarding. DH double checked the electronics, I called my mom to tell her we were really “ready to go” and she talked to the girls. We promised to be safe, come back with the same 4 kids we were leaving with… and have fun, too. Off to the restroom and on the way back I got suckered (by Sweetie & Doodlebug) into buying some Auntie Anne’s pretzel sticks. Who could say no to our last opportunity for American food?? It came 6 to a pack… it must’ve been Ordained – LOL! They were a hit, and dh commented that I was a nicer person than he…. Apparently the boys had requested the same treat. :D

Pretzels consumed, trash tossed, announcements were being made. Anxiety began to rise as three of the kids began to realize that yes, we were indeed about to get on a hollow metal tube with wings, under the control of persons we didn’t know, who were going to attempt to take us to 35,000 ft in excess of 500 mph. What kind of insanity WAS this anyway??? The seats were booked in a 2:2:2 formation along one side and I was going to sit with Sweetie in the “front” pair, with DH & Doodlebug in the back and the boys in between. DS1 was holding up fine and promised to help Boo-Boo with his stress level, Sweetie was in tears however, from the entry ramp on. No amount of reassurance from Mom was going to get by this… but, lo and behold, what is upon her seat, but her own personal pillow & blanket individually wrapped. Apparently cheap linens can make the day of a 6 y.o. and she calmed down while I explained the buttons on her seat, that, “yes” that’s as far as it’s going to recline” “Yes, we really are going to sleep on the plane, “ “Yes, you really can watch tv on that little screen in front of you when they turn it on” , and the little tray table seemed to occupy a lot of her attention.

We left the parked position & we backed up … turned… and it was actually going to be a fun trip. WOO HOO! Taxiing down the runway to get in line calmed everything down… and even the revving of the engine didn’t bother her b/c I told her it was just going to be loud… like the vacuum cleaner. We were good.

Airplane food is still airplane food, but everyone rec’d a drink, and supper by 7pm… which is probably by design. If they served you before you were REALLY REALLY hungry, you’d never eat it. Lights went out at 8, but sadly that seemed to be the cue for the passengers near us to P-A-R-T-Y. Grrr. I was trying to get the kids to sleep… we were going to be landing at what was going to FEEL like 2am… WHY oh WHY wouldn’t they be a little quieter? They finally cut their lights out as well and settled down… and I became painfully aware that my lovely seat-mate was going to do a Starfish impression for the next 5 hours. She, and apparently her sister decided to cover every square inch of their seats… and mine two… in every possible position known to girl. Ugh. Dh didn’t hardly sleep, I know I hardly slept… but they WERE cute and truly excited at the idea that they would actually be SLEEPING over the Atlantic Ocean.

Landing wasn’t easy. The descent and accompanying pressure changes were not kind and none of the kids could really understand the concept of “blowing through your ears”. How does one explain that to a 5 y.o.?? Still, swallowing hard helped and well before touchdown they seemed “fine”. The ground seemed ever closer and in spite of her earlier anxiety, Sweetie seemed EXCITED by the power of gravity. Then, as if on cue, we touched down and all four kids softly shouted, “WHHOOOOAAAAAAAAAA”. The surrounding passengers laughed heartily looking at them. Who couldn’t love something as exciting as somebody ELSE getting exciting about something that seems so mundane to those of us that have flown many times before.

Unloading, passport check-in & luggage collection all proved to be uneventful Praise the Lord. I’d hate for my 2nd trip to Italy to resemble my first in lost luggage. One can only go so far on the same pair of underwear, right? Anyway, our lull in excitement was only proof that our heart was getting a respite from any flight stress b/c we were about to meet up with the IL’s and join in what must be the Universal Olympic sport… traffic. OH MY WORD. WHERE did these people learn to drive? Do they HAVE a driving school? Zipping in and around in a 9 passenger van in and amongst these little 2-seater European whatchamacallits… more Italians must die of heart failure on the road than actual collisions. Even Sweetie noticed that we heard a LOT more Ambulance sirens in our first 24 hours than we’ve ever heard in a week’s time in the US. WOW. Still, the driver was good… used his horn only half as often as I expected and we arrived safely. Unloading went well, and now, all that we had to do was get it up 1-1/2 flights of stairs to our apartment. Praise God for Strong Husbands. WOOT WOOT! 50lb bags really do feel heavier than my 8 y.o. and they were hauled up the stairs without problem or complaint.

The apt is lovely, and wonderfully European. Itty Bitty kitchen with appliances that can’t all be plugged in at the same time, a tv in the kitchen, but only b/c it doubles as the family room. It’s officially a 3br place, but there is a Maid’s closet (literally a large closet with hangers, a twin bed & small night stand) where DS1 is enjoying his “Room to Himself” (though he has actually spent little time there). The girls are sharing a room with Boo-Boo as their room is large enough for 3 twin beds and no overcrowding… DH/I have a room large enough for a small Roman army and the IL’s have the bedroom with the “added on” bathroom.

The bathrooms enjoy a paragraph to themselves… as is typical, there is no bathtub & the shower appears to be made for very tall very skinny individuals. There is a little seat that must be made for children as no grown-up that ever could’ve sat on it would’ve been able to get themselves up again without assistance… and who really wants to tempt fate in a shower… I mean, think about it. The biggest interest to the kids was the bidet. Each of them have come out to show me the “Potty that washes your bottom” only to follow It with the statement, “WHY would they want to DO that?!” LOL! The concept, I’ll admit, is lost on me as well... but their intrigue into the contraption is hysterical.

We unpacked… looked around… and then one by one made the mistake of lying down… “Just for a minute” we all said. Four hours later we were being roused by my MIL saying, “If you don’t wake up now, you won’t sleep tonight”, which in and of itself seems odd… but she was right. It was now 2 in the afternoon and all the kids had really eaten was a croissant with a little butter and a milk for breakfast on the plane HOURS earlier. She had more fresh bread, grilled ham/cheese sandwiches and they were AWFULLY tempting.

We headed out to the bus stop and after BOARDING the bus decided we wanted to stop at the Colosseum. What a PLACE that is. HUGE doesn’t begin to describe it. The stairs are steep and one does begin to wonder why the Romans HAD elevators and yet NEVER installed them for the patrons of the games?? My goodness… the only elevators were used for the animals headed toward the carnage… but at least the idea was there, if not applied. It gives one pause to sit there and contemplate not only how many lives were lost there, but how many thousands CHEERED for the loss of life. 50,000 there to watch and that didn’t include the “SRO”.

The kids imitated gladiators, lions, and Senators. They looked up to where the peasants would’ve sat and were glad they didn’t have to walk that far. We circled the upper level, then most of the lower level before departing and hearing our first “Aha” moment. Boo-boo took a look at the 3 examples of column ‘tops’ and pronounced each of them correctly: Doric, Ionian, Corinthian… and then wondered where all the columns themselves were.

Leaving the Colosseum we headed out and, of course, run into tourist trap #1 … a kiosk selling every random piece of memorabilia that’s worth every half a Euro you pay for it… and then Tourist Trap #2… the food kiosk where the gelato there TASTES as good as from any store… but, sadly costs 3x as much. Sigh… live & learn, I suppose. Still, each child got their own flavor… thoroughly enjoyed the ice cream… and then thoroughly enjoyed feeding the cone in bits & pieces to the pigeons that were EVERYWHERE. I guess that was a better use than throwing them at the gladiator impersonators, right? LOL!

We departed on a bus… and so began a long tedious 3 hour trip home consisting of 3 buses, a long walk… and a conversation with a Frenchman who apparently has a cousin in Rhode Island… or New York, he didn’t remember. I hate to tell him there’s a grand difference between the two, but he was so polite I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. We finally exited the last bus near the apartment and walked up the stairs… seriously wondering in the exhaustion if just going to bed wouldn’t be easier. The kids decided it wouldn’t, so we ate. Homemade pasta purchased for half-price tastes wonderful, and a comfortable bed at the end of a VERY long trip made the perfect end. Little did I know, it would be 11 hours before I would move again.