La Vita e' Bella ( Life is Beautiful)

Sometimes, something wonderfully unexpected happens. Out of the clear blue. In the middle of an ordinary day. Something wonderfully unexpected . . . such as discovering this sign in a clearance bin at Target. It literally called my name.

The Un-Vacation

We returned from the beach this past Friday and I am just now finding the energy to write. If you read my previous post you know that our vacation did not get off to a good start (children throwing up will kind of do that).

Well, it did not get better. Despite my Pollyanna-ish optimism, my friend Suburbancorrespondent was right (did she hex us??!!) . . . that nasty bug followed us on vacation and made himself right at home in our nice condo right on the beach. And he took his sweet time visiting everyone so that every day someone was sick. Except me and my husband. Miraculously we stayed healthy so we could nurse everyone else. I don't know what's worse: to be so sick you don't want to go anywhere, or to be healthy and can't go anywhere. It's a mind boggling question . . . I'll deal with it later. So, to succinctly describe our vacation (vomiting gets very, very boring, after all) I'm using Lisa's meme First Things First and applying it to all my mornings last week.

The first thing I drank: cappuccino (what else?!)

The first thing I said: "I wonder who will throw up today?"

The first action I did: felt everyone's forehead to check for fever

The first thing I read: instructions from the ER doctor on Gastroenteritis (yes, our vacation included a visit to the ER)

The first item of clothing: a biohazard suit . . . JUST KIDDING! a bathing suit ("I don't care who throws up . . . I'm going to the beach!")

The first person I spoke to: God ("please, please let this madness stop")

The first chore I did: cloroxed sinks, doorknobs, toilet, and all common areas in the condo

The second chore I did: made a grocery list: saltines, broth, jello

The first thing I did once I returned home: googled vacation rentals; if at first you don't succeed . . .

Good News, Bad News, then Great News

Hello. You are probably surprised to see me since we are supposed to be at the beach. Well . . .

Good News: We got everything packed last night . . . I was Miss Organization.

Bad News: Our four-year-old got up five times during the night to throw up.

Good News: Today is the last day of school for our two older boys.

Bad News, Bad News: Our little one is still throwing up; departure for the beach postponed until tomorrow.

Good News: The two older boys are going on ahead with my parents.

Bad News: My husband and I will stay here.

Good News: We'll rent a movie, get take-out, and spend some quality time with our little one.

Great News: Tomorrow, when we finally head to the beach, it will be a quiet, peaceful drive with only one child in the car.

The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity.

The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.

-Winston Churchill

Traveling with Kids

With summer here (my boys get out this Friday) and a vacation just around the corner (we leave this Friday for the beach) I wanted to share two great ideas for involving your children during a family vacation:

The Scavenger Hunt

Two years ago my husband and I took our boys on their first trip to Italy. Because I wanted this trip to be both memorable and educational, I prepared a scavenger hunt highlighting some of the things I knew we would be seeing. The night before the trip I gave them each a list of 25 items to look for and a disposable camera. Some of the items on the list were obvious: someone eating a gelato; a tower that leans; a square with a fountain in the middle; a sign written in Italian; a vespa. Some weren't so obvious: a lion carved in stone (lion: symbol of Venice and found everywhere in that city); a love letter to Juliet (the wall near Juliet's balcony is plastered with love letters asking for advice).

They loved the scavenger hunt and took it very seriously. Once we returned home they put their list and their photos in a small album . . . a wonderful memento of our trip.

Postcard Journals

On this same family trip, I wanted the boys to record in some way what they were seeing and learning. I knew, however, that a traditional journal was just not the way to go. Instead, the boys sent postcards . . . to themselves!! After a day spent sightseeing the boys would select a postcard and write some highlights of the day. A postcard was perfect because they had a picture of what they saw, and the limited space on the back kept their journaling down to a few sentences.

The best part was that a few days after returning home the postcards started arriving, and the boys would get so excited to receive mail. Their postcards were also incredibly funny:

Dear Me: This postcard shows the day when we went to Collodi . . . a park all about Pinocchio. When I saw the spitting whale, monstro, my eyeballs were popping out of my ears.

Dear Wonderful Self: I went to Poppi and saw Poppi castle. I saw everything from a model of a medieval guy on a battlefield with his guts spilling out, to a real skeleton in the dungeon. This was awesome!

Dear Me: I went to Cortona today. It was so high on the mountain my ears had trouble getting used to the altitude. We sat on the steps pictured on the postcard and ate a panino. The pigeons practically attacked us when I threw a chip on the step.

Dear Me: Today we went to La Verna, a Franciscan monastery. We saw the real cloak that St. Francis wore. My favorite was, of course, the gift shop!! (My middle son mentions a gift shop in every. single. postcard.)

Dear Cool Kid (aka me): In Verona I saw a Colosseum and the Piazza Bra - a bra that looks like a pizza. Not really. Anyway I saw Juliet's balcony with all the love letters attached to the wall. By the way, the Piazza Bra is a square named Bra.

Well, I hope this gives you some ideas for a memorable family vacation. Happy summer and safe travels to you!

Straight out of the Movies: Part II

In his comment in yesterday's post, Juan thought that it was indeed possible for a snake to climb up in the minivan's engine and then come slithering out of an air vent while I was driving. Well, then. Since the snake was still somewhere, and since my husband was home on Friday, he gallantly agreed to run carpool that afternoon and to take our little one with him.

And you are not going to believe what happened.

Sure enough, a snake . . . I'M KIDDING. No snake.

But something did happen:

My husband was sitting in the parked van in the in the middle of the carpool lane, right in front of the school. Once all the cars were loaded and the teachers dismissed the lane, my husband (reminder: parked in the middle of the carpool lane) discovered that the van battery was completely and totally dead.

Now, I'm not happy that my husband had to deal with jumper cables, rambunctious, over-helpful boys, and the looks of pity from the entire school as they drove around him in the middle of the carpool lane. Not at all.

I'm just thankful that a cute, little snake worked it out so that I could stay home on that hot, Friday afternoon enjoying a cappuccino without a worry in the world.

Straight out of the Movies

You know that scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark in which snakes are oozing out of holes in the wall?

Well, yesterday my husband saw a snake in the garage. A long snake. A fast snake. A smart snake that disappeared into a small hole in the garage wall to escape my husband's bullwhip . . . er, I mean, shovel.

Now I am afraid that this same snake (or a member of his family) will crawl up into the minivan's engine, and that tomorrow when I'm running carpool it will slither out of the air conditioning vent onto my lap.

Is such a thing possible? (Please, please tell me no.)

Brothers . . . can't live with them, can't live without them

So, my two oldest boys get into an argument tonight. Listening to them, my husband and I see that they are both wrong, but neither will admit it. It goes on like this. Because they share a room and the argument is getting ridiculous, we separate them by putting them to bed in different bedrooms.

Then, a storm comes.

A ferocious storm. With thunder, lightning, and wind.

Our eleven year old comes running into our bedroom. He doesn't want to sleep alone. It's too scary. Can he sleep with us?

Our thirteen year old comes in. The wind is really howling and the back bedroom is making funny noises. Can he go back to his own bedroom? Please?

So, we tuck them back into their own beds, in the bedroom that they share. They are both grinning ear to ear.

As my husband and I walk out of their bedroom we hear them whispering "I'm sorry" to each other . . .

which makes both of us grin ear to ear.