I know it's late, but I am finally giving you pictures of the trip to Italy.
Now that I've gotten over the initial depression of a less than stellar trip, I can tell you what was amazing about it, and what I learned.
The Italian pace of life is slow, and yet simultaneously very fast.
When you eat at a restaurant, they are super quick to get your order, bring your drinks, a basket of bread and your piping hot food.
But they take FOREVER to bring your check, offering you desert roughly 20-30 minutes after you've finished eating, and then even if you say no to dessert, bringing your check about 10-15 minutes after that.
Once you put money on it, it still sits a bit longer.
The point is for you to relax, digest your meal, have some coffee, maybe a real conversation where neither party is shoveling food into their pie hole, and then once you've digested a bit maybe you'll want some dessert.
At first, this bugged the crap out of me, and then after a couple days I loved it.
On the other hand, they drive very fast, swerving effortlessly in and out of lanes, cutting each other off without honking or yelling, coming right up on the ends and sides of other cars or even pedestrians, only stopping if they absolutely have to, to get everywhere as fast as possible. And they walk down the sidewalk or through the Metro tunnel the same way.
It's like the running of the bulls in the Metro tunnel during rush hour.
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Cappuccino is amazing with 1 packet of sugar and 1 packet of Equal.
Espresso shots are bitter and very hard to get down.
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Pizza in Rome is absolutely terrible.
Pizza is an Italian-American food, invented by Italian immigrants in Chicago.
It is NOT an Italian food FROM ITALY.
We do it better than they do.
Trust me.
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The Sistine Chapel is kind of overrated.
However the Vatican was well worth seeing.
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They really don't like taking credit cards or large Euro bills in Rome or Sicily.
I feel a tad sheepish being excited about it, seeing as how I only started working this week on Wednesday.
But fuck it, Fridays are awesome and it's ALWAYS something to be happy about.
So let's wrap this week up, shall we?
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On this Day Last Year
Bill and I were getting back together for the second time.
If you've read the love story you know all about how that turns out.
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Overheard This Week:
Jackson: Mommy how old is Papa?
Me: How old do you think he is?
Jackson: Mmmmm I think he's like...maybe 8?
Me: Yep, you're exactly right. He's 8.
Jackson: How old are you?
Me: How old do you think I am?
Jackson: I think you arrrrrrre.......10?
Me: Yes, exactly right. I'm 10.
Jackson: And I'm 3.
Me: Yes.
Jackson: Almost 4
Me: Yes.
Jackson: And Bill is 10 too, he's old like you.
Me: Sure.
Jackson: I just know everything {as he stares pensively out the window}
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The Truth About Jetlag:
It's a sneaky bastard.
It can take days to catch up to you, or you can be on your ass for days on end right from the start.
And it fucks up weird shit, like your sleeping pattern will be fine but you'll be inexplicably hungry at super weird times, and not when you should be.
We flew in on Tuesday evening, and I went to bed at 9 p.m.
My body tried once or twice to wake me up at 3 in the morning, but I insisted on sleep and ended up bright eyed and bushy tailed at 6 a.m. thinking everything would be fine.
EXCEPTOHMYGODI'MHUNGRY.
I was freaking starving.
I would've eaten just about anything you put in front of me.
So I ate my breakfast, which was totally normal sized, and went to work.
I proceeded to not be hungry again until 4, and then again at 8, and then be woken up by my hunger at 12.
And now, it's 4:23 in the morning and I am sitting up writing this, because I passed out at 10 without warning, and cannot find it in me to sleep another wink, which will cause my inevitable face down crash into my keyboard at 3 pm today.
Fuck you, jetlag.
Fuck you.
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In Case You Were Wondering...
How getting Jackson to sleep in his own bed is going....
Well. Now you know.
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Speaking of Jackson, look who got a haircut:
While Mommy was in Italy.
I almost cried when I saw it.
But he's saying he likes it, so I guess that's what matters.
So do you remember that time I went to Vegas with Bill, and completely freaked out before the trip because it was the most time we'd ever spent alone together and I was certain he would come back hating me, because I drool in my sleep and spill food when I eat, and experiencing that one night a week is one thing, but for 3 straight days is probably too much?
Well, it's happening again.
As of today there are only 10 more sleeps until Italy, and I'm starting to lose my shit a little when I think about it.
So much so in fact that I've put off doing literally ALL THE THINGS I need to do before we leave and now I'm running out of time.
I need to find a formal dress because the one I ordered online STILL HASN'T COME.
I need to get a new suitcase because the handle on mine broke YEARS AGO and I've just been putting it off because it never mattered, until. now.
I need to get a couple different things clothes wise, figure out what I'm bringing and make a schedule of when the kids will be where and with who while I'm gone for like 10 whole days.
All of that on top of the fact that Bill and I will be alone together for 10 WHOLE DAYS is a recipe for a spastic colon and an overdose on Rescue Remedy.
I'm trying to stay calm and remember that I loved him more after we came back from Vegas, and that trip is still one of our best shared memories, so I'm sure a romantic 10 days together in Italy will be even better.
If Vegas doesn't ruin your relationship, it should certainly be able to survive the most romantic country in the world.
Yes, even more romantic than France.
Suck it France.
Really my biggest fears are all stupid shit that I only fool myself into thinking Bill hasn't already been exposed to.
Things like "what if I snore really loud in my sleep and he just can't take it anymore after 5 straight days, and he jumps off the side of the ship?" -Just for the record, I NEVER SNORE - Duh. But if I did, I don't want him to be bothered by it.
And what if my boob falls out of my pretty formal dress at the nice formal dinner where some of his career field colleagues and one of his business partners will be, and forever after I will be remembered as the girl who's boob was all over the place at that one dinner on that cruise in Italy, and Bill is just so embarrassed he dumps me and marries someone who looks like a president's wife?
There are just so many unknowns.
In the end I know it's all going to be meaningless when I wake up for the first time in Rome, next to my boyfriend and we order breakfast wine and chocolate and spend the rest of the days teasing each other about our mutual inability to speak any language other than highly sarcastic English.
Today is the last Friday of March, and by Sunday it will already be April, 2012.
I can't believe that three months of this year that still feels new to me, have passed already.
It's all kind of going by in a blur, and time seems to be perpetually speeding up.
I feel like a lot has changed this year so far, and more changes are on the horizon, but I feel good about them.
This month, the 14th marked the end of three whole months at my new job.
The first three months were incredibly hard.
I have a boss who is difficult to say the least, and learning how to work with him without taking every little shitty thing he did or said personally was a huge challenge for me.
But I'm incredibly proud of myself for sticking with it, and trying every day to find some way to make that working relationship work because I have a great job. One that changed a lot for me and my kids.
I feel like towards the end of this month my boss and I made some real progress, and I even got him to laugh yesterday when I gave him a bright pink file folder, after he explained to me that he needed a folder made for something in such great detail you would've thought he was talking to a 3 year old.
He laughed a little, and I could see it in his eyes that he knew he deserved that.
As a reward I replaced the pink folder with a dark blue one while he was in a meeting.
I hope that small "thanks for not being a dick about the joke I just made" didn't escape his notice.
Also on the 14th, Bill and I marked the anniversary of three years in each other's lives.
It's frustrating that we can't say "three years together" even though in my opinion we were together, and the way Bill puts it "we weren't dating but we were definitely in a relationship" {whatever that means}
But regardless, it was a big deal to me to look back at three whole years of managing to hang on to each other in one form or another, in the midst of all the rain storms and outright hurricanes that befell our relationship over all that time. We survived a lot, and even though a good portion of it is far too personal to talk about in detail here, if you knew everything we've been through, I think you'd agree that holding on to each other, and managing to fall in love and grow ever closer to one another was nothing short of a miracle.
Bill and I have grown immensely, I think in the last three months but the last month especially.
I am learning how to love better, and how to have a healthier kind of relationship than I've ever had.
As sad as it sounds Bill had to more or less teach me that not fighting over every single little thing that made me feel the slightest bit insecure, would actually over time make me feel more secure.
He was right, and I'm still learning.
But we haven't gotten in a legitimate fight at all this month, and I feel really proud of that.
My temper still flares up from time to time, and my insecurities still rear their ugly heads, but I'm able to let the moment pass without making a huge issue of it.
I think so, anyway.
The kids are growing up so fast, and once April starts Jackson will be one month and 18 days from his 4th birthday.
I feel an odd sense of sadness that his dad will miss yet another birthday, Maybe because I know that the more birthdays that pass, the more aware of that absence Jackson will inevitably become. His 4th birthday feels like the last one he'll have where he won't notice that his dad isn't there for it, or that other kids dads are there for their birthdays.
I wish his dad knew what he was missing.
And I wish Jackson never had to be aware that he is missing out on something too: a father.
As of today there are only 23 more sleeps until we leave for Italy.
Bill thinks it's funny that I count the night before we leave as a "sleep" because he knows I won't sleep a wink.
I really couldn't be more excited, and I couldn't be any happier that I'm going to Italy with Bill.
I say all the time that Bill and I travel well together, and that probably sounds weird to some people because you'd think that if you generally get along with someone in everyday life, or are close with them, that you would also travel well with them.
I've learned that this is not the case, and some people, regardless of how good of friends or how close of family members or how great of lovers they are, should simply never leave their hometowns with each other.
Bill and I travel well together, and I am very much looking forward to the adventures that lie ahead.
I'm looking forward to the rest of this year, to be honest. And that's something I haven't been able to say about the future in a pretty long time.
I have a great job that I'm actually doing well at, I have healthy kids who are growing and excelling despite the challenges they've already faced in their so far short lives, I have a truly truly amazing boyfriend, who gives me a chick flick movie worthy kind of love and makes me feel like we must really have something exceptional, because words just can't describe the respect, trust and admiration I feel for him. And I have a beautiful, safe new home in an awesome neighborhood, where the kids and I can go for walks at night and collect rocks and pine cones without being scared of getting shot.
I always hesitate to say this because it feels like I'm tempting fate {knock on wood} but life is really good right now, and I am so very thankful for what the first three months of this year have brought to me and mine.
Today is Friday, and it's also a very special day.
Why is it special, you may ask?
Well, not because it's jeans day at work {which Friday usually is but this week isn't. Fuckers.}
And not because it's only 24 more hours until my special weekly night with Bill {because he's in California with his kids until Sunday. Fucker.}
No, today is a special day because I leave for Italy in exactly one month from this very day.
Ohmygodcrazy, right?!
I actually still can't really believe I'm going to Italy.
I have a very tight schedule planned for us for our trip:
-Arrive in Rome, check into our hotel
-Nap
-Roll out of bed, explore a bit, find some carb loaded food and eat too much of it
-Drink wine. Too much of that too.
-Nap
-Wake up and realize it's dinner time. Repeat food and wine process.
-Nap some more
-Get up the next day and explore Rome and maybe go to the Vatican
-Be in awe of the amazing frescos
-Have lunch
-Nap
This schedule will basically repeat, with minor variances in where we're exploring each day, but generally I plan to see everything, eat almost everything, and sleep and relax in the arms of my man to my hearts content.
How I will fit that much sleeping and adventuring into the same schedule I'm not totally sure.
But I'm Italian so I'm sure I can figure it out.
1 month from today.
Can't come soon enough!
UPDATE: Look what was waiting in the mail for me when I got home today:
I wish y'all could've seen my face.
Although it was pretty similar to the face I'm making in this picture:
Ok. No more pictures of me with my passport, I promise.
