Il Dylan on Halloween

Remember Dyl during Carnevale? He was a tiny little thing still confined to his Boppy. Here he is on Halloween dressed as an Ohio State football player. I could barely keep him still to take the pictures. Thanks to cousins Landon and Elijah for the outfit!

No more afternoon nap

S5000494
Originally uploaded by michellanea

Try as I might, I can no longer get this baby to nap in the afternoons anymore. He's too busy standing, dancing or trying to rip the rabbits off his mobile. What's a tired mamma to do?

Nessun dorma

We turned the clocks back last Saturday night, which means that Dylan has been waking up very, very early in the morning. About two hours early for some odd reason...He begins crying and I usually find him in his crib standing in his sleep sack and swaying from side to side calling "ma ma ma." I put him in bed with us and after a series of early morning greetings all around, Dylan settles into a comfortable position next to me. Cristiano falls back asleep immediately, obviously, (lucky papà!) but I wait until I hear Dylan starting to breathe rhythmically until I even think about relaxing. I don't fall back to sleep easily once awoken but typically on these mornings when Dylan wakes early and comes into bed with us, just as I'm about to drift off, my (ostensibly) slumbering little baby turns into Dylan "the Mexican jumping bean" and starts bouncing off the headboard. Literally. He likes nothing more than banging his hands (or his head) off our wooden headboard and as much as we try to keep him away from it, he's unstoppable. I wonder if he pretends to fall back asleep on purpose only to "surprise" me when I am about to fall back asleep?

A tale of two sleep sacks

So the first sleep sack arrived from my friend Vanessa by way of New Zealand by way of London by way of Sicily. I had to fight a bit with the woman in the post office when I went to pick it up because the package was addressed to - gasp - Dylan and the woman chewed me out because mail should apparently never be addressed to a child. She wanted photo identification for Dylan and actually my nine-month-old DOES have an Italian I.D. card but I don't keep it on me. Dylan and I don't have the same last name (in Italy if I had Cristiano's last name, that'd make us brother and sister not husband and wife...) so the woman didn't want to give me the package even though I was holding the little slip that was left in my mailbox with the package tracking number on it. I lifted Dylan up out of his stroller to show her who he was but he couldn't confirm his identity. Decades after Mussolini's death, Italy is still pretty Fascist and very ID-happy so even my subway pass has my photo on it. So, anyway, I finally got our sleep sack after making the 30-minute hike on foot to the main post office and fighting and fighting. Typical.

Then Grandma Mimi sent us a very expensive box containting a sleep sack from the U.S. along with a few other toys and essentials but, of course, the box got blocked in customs. The offending item? Walgreen's dental floss that was a buy-one-get-one-free deal that Grandma Mimi decided to throw in the package at the last minute. Everyone likes a little dental floss, right? Well it took ten days, lots of phone calls, faxes back and forth of my passport and various other documents. Not to mention $50 paid to the Italian Health Ministry for "importing" a health product.

In any case, we love our sleep sacks. Dylan sleeps much better and I don't worry about him being cold now.

Customs officials tore into the packaging, creating a fuzz explosion

World's most expensive dental floss

They found the floss but not the Theraflu! What would we have paid for that?

Dylan on his new Kermit rug, which has nothing to do with anything really. Disney is one of Cristiano's clients so this was a gift. I have a soft spot for Kermit singing "The Rainbow Connection!" Cristiano's new Grill Daddy is on the chair - fortunately, Italy has no "BBQ Minister" so we didn't have to pay any duties on that.

See what I mean?

Grandma Mimi was faithfully reading the blog this morning and read the last post where I wrote about how I was at Imaginarium looking for some kind of walk-and-ride toy for Dylan. She sent me a link to the above. It costs $26.99 at Toys R Us. The one I was looking at at Imaginarium (below) is very similar but costs 59 Euros. That's $75! Granted, it's not a life-or-death purchase but Dylan is really at a stage where he needs to be able to hold on to something more stimulating than the ottoman portion of our couch.

Unhappy pumpkin

Like our jack-o-lantern? It's made of papier mache. In this picture, Dylan is mad that I won't let him play with it. It usually stays up on a shelf so he won't destroy it but I brought it down for a photo op, which he cried through. Oh well. Halloween is not that big in Italy. It's starting to make inroads as a kiddie holiday similar to Carnevale (which is in February) but without trick-or-treating. It seems more a holiday for adults who dress up and go out to the bars. But it's really nothing like in the U.S. and that I know of, there are no real pumpkin patches to visit.

OK, so here's a weird question: does Dylan look special? The other day I'm in Imaginarium (Hilary and Vanessa, they are opening one in Palermo!), which is my favorite store for interesting educational kids toys here. It's overpriced but what isn't overpriced for kids here? I had Dylan with me and the girl working there came up and was shoving a bunch of toys in his face. I told her I was looking for something he could stand and hold on to or a toy he could push around the house since he's in the early phases of walking. Out of nowhere, she says "I have the perfect toy for your little boy" and shoves this big teddy bear in my face. She explains that the teddy bear has one ear bigger the other and one of his eyes has an "x" instead of an eye because it's been clawed out and his arm has been stitched up and mended. "This will teach your little boy about being different. Special." Did she think he was retarded? Granted this girl was in her early 20s and she probably just gets a commission for selling the most number of the store's signature teddy bears. But her pitch left something to be desired. A more paranoid mamma might wonder what this girl was trying to imply. Fortunately for her, I also worked retail in my early 20s and I realize she just needed to work on her customer approach. And, of course, Dylan is OBVIOUSLY physically perfect, isn't he?

Busy weekend

Cookout! We bought our grill from a couple of American expats who were moving back to the U.S. They had had it shipped over when they moved to Italy. Italians come from miles around just to come and look at its massive, powerful American-ness. Last night, we had our neighbors over and grilled out and Cristiano showed off his "real American grillmaster" skills by cooking an entire chicken on a can of Budweiser. That's what Americans do, right? I had never heard of this being done before but if you do a Web search of "beer can chicken," there are tons of recipes. I made the spice rub but otherwise had nothing to do with it. Is it because I'm vegetarian that I didn't know about this or is this as weird as I think it is? Anyway, the neighbors were impressed.

I had little to do with this...

Why?

Dylan with neighbor friend Serena

Then today Dylan had his first birthday party. His cousin Matteo turned three and his parents rented out a space at an outdoor amusement park. It was a little cold but a nice day and just like American kids' parties. Chips, Coke, cookies, cake and chaos.

Dylan looks over Matteo's shoulder at the wonder that is the Winnie the Pooh cake. Up to now, we've had a Disney-free home but I fear those days are coming to an end...

"Tanti auguri a te!" (sung to the tune of "Happy Birthday")

Play group

playgroup
Originally uploaded by michellanea

Dylan loves his Thursday play group. We've missed the last couple of weeks because he was sick but, fortunately, we got to go yesterday. It's interesting to see him with other babies his age and to see who has reached the various milestones. I'd say Dylan is a little more reticent than some of the others to pull up and stand up (especially those petite and sprightly little baby girls!) but he seems much more verbal and vocal than even the 11-month-olds. Takes after mom!

A week in the life

With mom on her birthday

Out to dinner with Luca and Tybie

You are going to give me a bite, right?

Up early on Sunday morning

Breaking through the barrier mom created to keep Dylan confined

Pulling up the minute mom turned her back

The block tower Papi built for Dylan to destroy
first thing in the morning

Swing etiquette: now updated with pics!

Man, I am still fuming about what happened at the playground the other day. There's one broken-down playground around here with two baby swings, two regular swings and one small slide/jungle gym. It goes without saying that everything has graffiti all over it and kids can't play in the grass because of the glass from broken bottles and dog doo (lazy-ass dog owners! Sorry I said "ass" on a baby blog but, I mean, really...). But Dylan doesn't know a nice playground from an ugly one, and he absolutely loves swinging on the baby swings. But, like I said, there are only two baby swings so when we go, we have to wait our turn. Now the baby swings are especially busy as a lot of times "big" kids get on the baby swings when the regular swings are being hogged up by the hoody high school kids who use the regular swings as benches to smoke on.

The other day I was waiting for the baby swings and a father was pushing his little girl who was clearly too big for the baby swings. He was facing me as he pushed and it was apparent we were waiting because I was holding a very enthusiastic Dylan who was kicking and waving his arms in anticipation. Just in case this dad didn't understand, I was saying loudly in Italian "It's our turn next after the bella bambina. When the pretty little girl gets off, we can get on." The dad didn't even pretend not to see me. He just went on pushing, pushing, pushing his kid forever. I kept saying loudly "We are next Dylan. Just as soon as the bella bambina gets off the swing..." because Dylan was getting frustrated - and heavy for me to hold. But rude dad just couldn't have cared less and was apparently immune to my passive aggression.

Finally, he lifted his little girl out of the swing and a mother (an acquaintance of rude dad) swooped in with her little boy from the vicinity of the slide and he jumped into the swing we were waiting for. This mom began pushing her overgrown beast while chewing the fat with rude dad about some school scandal. I was so shocked, I didn't say a word but even if this mother hadn't seen me, the rude dad should have pointed out that I was waiting. It took every ounce of my willpower not to pipe up and say to rude dad "You know that kids learn manners from their parents. Way to go, idiot! You are teaching your daughter a nice lesson there." Knowing myself, I'd probably have opened my big fat mouth if I were in a park somewhere in New York. But I live in a small community where everyone knows everyone else, and where you don't want to get anyone on your bad side. For all I know, this guy's wife runs the local preschool or something. So I didn't say it. In Italian anyway. I had some choice words about him in English, and I shared the G-rated version with Dylan.

Good things

Dylan hit the nine-month mark over the weekend. He's 40 weeks old! He's been out of utero as long as he was in, and I am enjoying this period so much more than I was at 40 weeks pregnant. It's all good.

Dylan reaching for a libation as he celebrates nine months

He has gotten super affectionate and doles out kisses left and right even if you don't ask. Granted, his kisses are open mouth and can include tongue so if that's not your thing, you've got to make sure the kiss is aimed at your cheek.

He's already over crawling. He wants to be standing up or walking, walking, walking (with assistance, of course). He often holds out his arms to me and I think he wants a hug but, nope, he wants to grasp on to my hands and use me to pull himself up and walk. I count "one, two, one, two" or "uno, due, uno, due" and he puts one foot in front of the other all over the house. Below he is pictured walking the house with his stylish nonna.

"I've got places to be"

He's also gotten really smart and I'm not just saying that because I'm his mom. The other day he ducked his head behind the curtain and then ducked it back out again quickly. He did this two or three times and I had no idea what he was doing. He had a glint in his eye and was looking at me as if to say "C'mon, mom, don't you get it?" It finally hit me and I yelled out "peekaboo!" and he started giggling uncontrollably. Strangely, we are not much for peekaboo around here so I'm thinking he's a self-taught peekaboo guy! We are big on pat-a-cake, itsy bitsy spider and "this little piggy went to the market" but we've never really done peekaboo.

He's back to sleeping in his own bed for the whole night. He stirs around 2:30 a.m. but a little pat on the back and some "shhhh"-ing sends him back to dreamland until around 7 a.m. We are very happy about that. In other sleep news, my friend Vanessa (who is from New Zealand but lives in Sicily) picked up a sleep sack for me while in London for the weekend. It's starting to get cold in the apartment at night and Dylan kicks off any cover I try to put on him so I'm very excited for the arrival of my sleep sack, which will be coming to me by way of New Zealand by way of London by way of Sicily. There's no just thinking "Hmm, I'd really like a sleep sack" and just going down to the Babies R Us to buy one. Everything has to be complicated...

Passed out in his dinosaur pajamas

Finally, we've had some really nice sunny fall days. You know what that means? Mamma Michelle (which is what Cristiano calls me and which I think sounds absolutely ridiculous but makes me laugh all the same - look for my line of pasta sauces at your local Whole Foods!) is a happy laundress! If I get the laundry percolating by 8 a.m., I can start hanging by 9:30 a.m. - because the "fast" cycle takes 90 minutes on my very slow methodical energy-efficient washer - and if I'm lucky, everything is dry by 4 p.m., which is when the sun moves off the East-facing balcony. If things aren't dry, I have to move everything to the West-facing balcony where we get sun until about 6:30 p.m. If all goes well, Dylan has bed clothes for the night! With the cough he's had, he's been spitting up his milk all over himself and his sheets at least once a night. But if there's laundry to do and the sun's out, I'm not complaining!

Dylan pulls up in his crib now

My birthday gift to myself was going to be getting a fabulous new haircut but Dylan was up all night coughing (and so were we along with him) so we decided it would be best if he stayed home today. He's been pulling up by himself for a few days now in the living room. But today when I put him in his crib I just had this feeling he'd try to do it in his crib too so I ran and got my camera. Sure enough, he pulled up and I captured it all on film. You can see how he starts holding on to the bars, positions his right leg strategically and then pulls right up. My roots look like crap and my hair is a rat's nest but at least I was there to witness a milestone. Somehow I have a feeling that he won't stop at just pulling up and his next mission is going to be trying to jump out. Must work on new crib-proofing stratetgies...

Blocks

What is it about dudes and blocks? I bought this tub of wood blocks at the supermarket thinking it'd be a good classic toy to keep Dylan in one place. How silly of me. If he's not hiding one of the blocks somewhere (I've found them in his crib, under the TV and many other places), he's rolling the tub or the lid along and crawling after it. Dylan and Cristiano have hours of fun with the blocks. Cristiano tries to build the tallest tower possible and then loves watching Dylan destroy it. Huh? Before going to bed at night, Cristiano builds a new fantastical creation and then first thing in the morning, we "unleash" Dylan and he heads straight toward it and destroys it with glee. All in good fun, I guess. This weekend in the mountains, the menfolk stayed up late drinking grappa and seeing who could build the tallest block tower. You can see fun with blocks in the mountains on my Flickr. The first picture in the series is here and you have to click ahead at right for more. Can you see a group of women doing that?

In other mamma news, I'm thinking I need a quick-and-easy mom haircut. But not a mom haircut, if you know what I mean. I was thinking about a long-ish bob though I fear my face is too fat. How would I look hanging out the laundry or changing dirty diapers Victoria-Beckham style?

Dylan says mama!

Dylan has been saying "ma ma" for quite a while now but he has never called out to me directly to the point where I was 100 percent sure he was addressing me. Until yesterday! Yesterday I fed him a spoonful of vanilla gelato (bad idea - no kid will take only ONE spoonful of gelato so I was better off just not giving him any) at lunch just to see if he liked it. Of course he loved it and wanted more but since he technically should not be eating gelato, I tried to move it out of his line of vision. Not to be put off, he pulled on my sleeve and said impatiently "mama!" And I'm absolutely sure he was talking to me because when I didn't give him the gelato he called out "mama" even louder and more impatiently. Here are some pictures of us in the mountains with Dylan.

Dylan at lunch where he said "mama" for the first time!

Dylan looking wintery with Papi

Zombies

We are back to the days of waking up every three hours all night long. Dylan has a couple of top front teeth coming in that seem to be bothering him quite a bit, a cold that won't go away and an especially itchy patch of eczema that has sprouted up on the back of his head. We've been bringing him in our bed to calm him down (I know, I know) and he does fall back asleep but he's so restless that he kicks and karate chops us all night to the point where we don't sleep at all. And he's been up for the day before 7 a.m. every day this week. The only good thing is that now he naps in the afternoon, which means I can nap with him. In the mornings I've had a lot of work and a lot of running around to do. But yesterday afternoon we took a three-hour nap together! I am a bad sleeper in general and not a napper but these last two weeks have been brutal sleep-wise. I can only hope this is just a phase and not a big step backward...

Zio Loris

Cristiano and I with zio Loris and zia Ornella on our wedding day

Cristiano's uncle Loris died a year ago today. When Loris died, I was six months pregnant. He knew we were having a boy and he knew his name would be "Dylan" so in some small way it gives me solace to know that their paths crossed. Dylan stays with aunt Ornella in the mornings while I work and plays with his cousin Luana when she comes home from school. The birth of Dylan has brought great joy during this last year that has been so hard for them having lost a husband and a father.

This is what I wrote the day after Loris died last year:
"Zio Loris died yesterday. I got there just as the priest was about to perform last rites. He was 54 years old. When he was originally diagnosed with lung cancer, he was given six months to live. He lived six years. I truly believe he chose to die yesterday. After ten days on oxygen and morphine, yesterday he refused to use the oxygen tank. He literally said "basta." He was perfectly lucid to the very end. In the last few days, he was not even able to eat. This was torture for a man for whom a day without a huge bowl of pasta was "un giorno incompiuto" (an incomplete day). We took him out for Mexican once, and he tried everything we ordered and loved it. But at a certain point he said, 'This is all good but when do these Mexicans eat their primo?' For him, the primo was pasta. He couldn't imagine a meal without his beloved first course. And living without eating was not living at all for him. Selfishly, we all would have wanted him to hang on longer but for what? The morning he died, he told Ornella 'I won't live to see tomorrow,' and he was right. After so many years of being at the mercy of that horrible disease, he made a conscious decision and went to death willingly. He knew there was only greater suffering to come, and I think he wanted to spare himself and his family that. Goodbye caro zio."