It's Wabbit Season

It is still baptism season here in Italy. This weekend we are headed to Rome for not one but two baptisms, both just a few hours apart. Rome is the reason why I came to Italy, it is also were I met my husband and where we were married. We spent our first few years in Northern Italy trying to get back to Rome as much as we could. A small baby didn't really slow down our passion for going. Though we sometimes stayed at my in-laws, we often stayed with my husband's best friend who would give up his bedroom whever we were in town. Then the longer we were here up North and the bigger Giulio got, the less I wanted to go. It's one thing to go for an action packed weekend of planning a wedding or sightseeing when it's just you and your significant other, quite another when it involves an active three year old, a small baby, and sleeping on my in-laws 20+ year old sofa bed. The more nights you sleep there, the more uncomfortable it gets. Their apartment in small, not my in-laws fault, and Giulio finding himself in The Land Where the Word "NO" Is Never Uttered gets more and more crazy the longer he is there (my in-laws fault.) In that regard my in-laws revert completely to form, allowing Giulio to do whatever he wants, eat whatever he wants, and by the end I have a kid who won't sit still for a moment and is also constipated to boot, having eaten nothing but cookies, pastries, and the occasional mouthful of pasta since he got there. This time however we are leaving on Friday, so we won't be there until Friday evening, and we are going back on Sunday so the I.L. efffect will be greatly minimized, though I am bringing a suppository just in case. My friend Theresa is also lending me her portable DVD player for the minimum six hour ride down. How I used to mock parents who said they used DVDs for long journeys! What, they couldn't find a way to keep their child seated for a few hours? Their kid lacked the capacity to sit still for more than half an hour? Hah! MINE would be different! Now I am just wondering how long the player can be used before it starts to put a drain on the car battery. Are there any 3 hour length versions of Bob the Builder on DVD?
I started packing last night, just cause today there really won't be time. In theory I could leave it to Lorenzo to do this afternoon when he is here with the kids, but the last time I let him pack he only brought two pairs of socks for Giulio for a 5 day trip and three pairs of underwear. Ok, fine, but one pair of socks Giulio had last worn when he was 18 months old, and I still don't know where Lorenzo dug them out from under the huge pile of clean 3T socks in the kids' room . The underwear was a pair someone gave me when Giulio wet himself when we were at their house, and had told me not to bother with giving them back. The frayed elastic was giving way and wouldn't stay up around my son's slender waist, so I ended up having to hand wash laundry in the hotel sink. I have learned my lesson and will handle all the packing from now on.
Packing for small children always worries me. Pack too few clothes and they will fall in a mud puddle, wet themselves, have diarrhea, or dump an entire plate of pasta down their front within an hour of arriving at the location, leaving you with one pair of jeans to last four days. Pack too much and you resemble a Borghese Pope transferring from the Vatican to his summer residence. I know if pack three pairs of pyjamas for Livia she will only need one for the entire trip. Pack one pair and she will have wet herself in them before midnight. Speaking of wetting oneself, I gave in on Tuesday night and let Giulio sleep sans diaper, which went well, he woke up dry at almost 8 am without having got up once in the night to go. Last night feeling full of hubris I let Giulio go to bed without a diaper, though he refused to go before getting into bed insisting "I just fine!" Around 10 pm, as I root around in the darkness through their drawers for clothes to pack, I decide to check just to make sure that Giulio is still dry. He isn't. He's soaked, his pyjamas are soaked, the sheets are wet, the mattress pad is wet, the mattress is wet because in a cruel twist of fate, the rubber sheet that is supposed to keep it dry for times like these has moved slightly and it has soaked the area around it. Even the rubber sheet is feeling a bit damp. I undress a comatose Giulio, put a diaper on him and clean pjs, and then dump him on our bed so I can flip the mattress and change all the sheets without bothering him. In the middle of this my brother calls long distance from New York City. My brother is 24, single, no kids. He doesn't seem to fully grasp how much mess one small child's urine can make.
Later, after I have flipped, changed, and Fabreez-ed the bed, got Giulio into it, loaded and turned on the washer, and taken a shower, I stand in the bathroom blow drying my hair and flipping through a back issue of SELF magazine. I have been avoiding SELF lately. I know it's supposed to be about empowerment and encouraging you to exercise and be strong, but lately to me it feels like it's nagging and a reminder of all the things I am doing wrong. I'm not eating enough green leafy vegetables and fiber, I am not saying enough positive mantras throughout the day, nor am I eating brain energy boosting fruits. I flip to the article of Rebecca Romijn, talking about how she got herself back in shape to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated Swimsuite Issue in 2006. Apparently her energy level is much better now that when she was younger. I think of myself in college, not all that long ago. I did crew and rugby, I got out of bed at 5 am and ran to practise. I worked out 4 hours a day, doing double workouts and in all kinds of weather. Of course I did, I didn't have two small children, a husband, and a job to tire me out at the end of the day. Back then it was just me. You can be sure as hell that Rebecca Romijn isn't flipping pee soaked mattresses at 11 o'clock at night. I slam the magazine shut in disgust and finish drying my hair. I keep telling myself that I shouldn't put myself last, that next week I am going to get it together, be the best mommy with the hot body, eating all the right energy boosting foods. Then when I finally find myself with a free 30 minutes I am so happy just to sit down that it doesn't cross my mind that I should be out running instead. Like today, I found myself with a free hour so I came home and blogged. I am still that girl, that girl who likes to run and be physical and take care of herself, but I am going to have to wait til next week before I can get back to her.