Henry and Esti: June 2009

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Midsummer

What a relief to be back to work! We've been home since June 13, after trips to Wisconsin and New York City. (Photos to come.) It was all individually great but cumulatively overwhelming. Henry's behavior sweetened considerably as soon as we got home. He's nicer than before we left: at worst, it's the 30-second mini-fit of shouting, then we're done. ("Those adorable little tantrums! I wish all kids were like that!" says one of his day care teachers.) He has put away his worst insults, which are Beatles-inspired (from Mean Mister Mustard): "You're a mean old man! And a dirty old man!" And generally gets into his clothes without protest. I think he enjoys the routine of day care, regular-ish bedtimes, naptimes, only one option for dinner each day -- I confess I do, too. Note for next time: maybe taking a 3-year-old on tour for a month just isn't the best idea? We also noticed that he grew more than an inch in the past three months, so maybe the nastiness was growth-spurt-related.
I certainly don't think his behavior has anything to do with any strategies we may or may not be applying. My current one is just to get busy with something else when he starts ignoring me or opposing me -- ideally, I leave the room. He quickly gets re-interested in putting on his jacket or whatever it is. But that's just because he's in the mood to be agreeable.
Meanwhile the sibling-to-be (whom we still sometimes call Sock, on Henry's initiative) is growing fast and kicking up a storm. I feel great. I had complained to my midwife a couple of weeks ago about a loss of mental acuity (she was sympathetic: "Yeah, pregnancy makes you stupid"), but I think it was just the effect of the vacation; seems to be wearing off now. Even the weather is cooperating: rainy and cool. If we have any trace of a real midsummer day, hot and humid, I'm immediately reminded with a jolt that I'm seven months pregnant.
Speaking of which -- yow! -- only two months left to work. Back to it!

Friday, June 05, 2009

June 4 - the birthday celebration continues

Cuddling with Grandma Nancy by the campfire.

But what happened to that marshmallow Daddy promised to toast?

More from Richland Center

Yesterday. Working on the foundation for a round guest house on the site of an old silo in Ken Sr.'s yard. (I mean, the house will be round. Not necessarily that only round guests can stay there. Though I'm a pretty round guest right about now.)

Henry, now three, can help with the construction.

Best part = riding back in the tractor.

Waitaminit, who's driving this thing? (I can't watch.)

Grandma Nancy's peony

A little slice of contemporaneity

We interrupt this program about Italy (was it really only two weeks ago?) to bring you... Henry's third birthday. Richland Center, Wisconsin, June 3, 2009.

And he huffed...

...and he puffed...

Success!

More from Bagni San Filippo

Henry takes the plunge into the sulfur baths

Bagni San Filippo

May Sulfur springs (terme) at San Filippo, on our way to San Quirico d'Orcia. Clambering down the rocks.

Contemplating a sulfur deposit.

Finding a large, secluded natural pool, and... jumping in! (Bathing suits are for wimps.) Nice, warm water.

At least we kept our underclothes on. Henry, the waterbaby and nudist you have come to know and love, had no such hangups.

En route to Tuscany

Abbazia San Salvatore. A nice, cool Byzantine church.

Some walk around admiring the mismatched columns and capitals (plundered from various Roman temples no doubt)...

...while others enjoy the acoustics.

Again at Prato Giardino

All sorts of American-themed rides at the park near my parents' house.

Some pretty surreal: a Shrek fire engine?? (Luckily Henry had just seen Shrek II at Fabrizio and Isabella's house, or he would not have recognized the characters.)

Why does putting in the 50-cent token seem to be the most fascinating part of the ride? (Friends who are parents: what is this pleasure our kids derive from getting us to pay for things, completely aside from the desirability of the thing being purchased? Theories appreciated.)

Finally an Italian-themed ride: cat and fox from Pinocchio.

Villa Lante, Bagnaia (near Viterbo)

These spectacular 16th c. gardens were laid out to highlight the power and good taste of various noblemen and cardinals, including Cardinal Gianfrancesco Gambara, whose name (sounds like gambari = shrimp) explains the crayfish designs embedded in a lot of the stonework. It's still a relatively significant place; according to one plaque inside the house, foreign ministers from Western European countries met there in the 1970s to continue the long process of discussions toward European unification.

Did Henry care? He was just delighted to splash in the various Mannerist fountains.

Several of them, each one feeding into the one on the level below. According to one explanatory poster, this was designed to show "man's mastery over nature."

Henry tried the mastery-of-nature thing too. Will a leaf float down the fountain? How about a pebble? What about a pebble if you put it in a boat made of a leaf? Good thing his mom (who has given up on trying to master anything) had brought along a full change of clothes.

Make your own spremuta

Pizzeria Il Monastero, Viterbo

This was the night Henry literally -- I've never seen him do this before -- fell asleep at the dinner table. His mouth was still chewing the last bites. I guess getting him to nap wasn't really a high priority on this trip.

He did wake up in time to request dessert, though -- a piece of custard pie with berries. Who knew it would be so gigantic?

Prato Giardino in Viterbo

The park 7 mins' walk from my parents' apartment had a pay-to-enter amusement park area for kids with a carnival-type inflatable jumping pen, an inflatable slide, and other rides. Not cheap, but perhaps worth it to see Henry (upper left) turn briefly into a little Italian child. No parents allowed into the play area -- imagine that in the US? -- but the little guy jumped at the chance to go up the big inflatable stairs and down that long slide all by himself.