Tag: Italy


Brain Cell Exodus

Yes, I know, too long without writing. Inexcusable. (Except that it’s very, very excusable.)

While I’ve been itching for a quiet hour or four with my laptop, the world has been spinning a little too fast… cartwheeling too, and back-flipping, and careening through all known variations of insanity. If I survive it with enough brain cells to count past 4, this summer will end up on a “Top 5” list (most likely Top 5 Reasons I Can No Longer Count Past 4).

Natalie tends to say things best these days:
“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, I love you, Mommy, I want to go home now.”

Me too, kiddo.

(Stay tuned for exciting news!)*

*As soon as I figure out what it is…


Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames

I don’t know how to put today into words. That’s the problem with being stuck in a half-finished story, afraid that if I start telling it before the dénouement has had a fighting chance, karmic retribution will leave us spinning in limbo forever. And I don’t even believe in karma.

At least I’m fairly certain that we’ve already reached the story’s climax (I couldn’t be much closer to spontaneous combustion) and that a spectacular ending is lurking somewhere inside the next two weeks (or we will be living under a bridge). How’s that for optimism?

If you want the ineloquent, nutshell version of the last 24 hours, here ’tis:
– Dan and Bethany lie in bed trying to figure out where our plans for Italy went wrong and what we can do to survive at this point. Little things like lack of job, lack of house, baby due soon, you know.
– Dan tries one last time to call The Godfather, who–Miracle of Miracles–answers his phone! He tell us that we have finally received our authorization from the government. Stunned silence. Brief bout with disbelief. Surge of overwhelming excitement. We lie awake in the dark for hours fantasizing to-do lists, giddy at the thought of our dreams being back on track.
– Dan goes to pick up our faxed paperwork… which isn’t there. Long-distance calling ensues. Turns out that the government didn’t technically authorize us; they just decided we didn’t need The Form. (Just to clarify, this form in question is indeed the one we’ve been waiting for since January, the one we’re required to have to get a visa, the one our lives have been on hold over.) That’s it. No form. After all. this. time.
– Bethany enters a warp zone between crushing depression (no form = lives over), surging hope (maybe the visa office has changed its policy on required forms!), and numbing bewilderment (what to do now?).

Stay tuned for a special appearance by Jack Bauer, who will threaten the well-being of government employees’ kneecaps until they give up the location of our visa. Or, who will hunt us down because we are living under a bridge and thus look suspicious.

::Fade out::


Small Victories

Looking at the grand scope of life, in the invent-a-light-bulb/achieve-world-peace sense, my past week was a blot of unproductivity. However, it was full of the kind of small victories that make life, in the living-between-homes/having-a-two-year-old sense, beautiful.

1. Natalie started using the potty after 2-1/2 weeks of futile attempts (and 2-1/4 weeks after I convinced myself she would be in diapers until junior high). I haven’t had to clean a poopy diaper in three days. What greater joy can there be?

2. I learned to catch grapes in my mouth after 20-something years of embarrassing incompetence in this socially significant area. Now, if I can just master water-skiing, I will be cool.

3. The hubby and I beat the odds–and the frenzied bidders–to get a sacred Nintendo Wii for our collective birthdays. I feel like we conquered the world! (At least, I will until the Wii arrives and I remember how badly I suck at video games…)

4. As shocking as this may sound, Dan got in touch with his new boss this week. Keep in mind that he’s called multiple times nearly every day since December, and the Godfather has only answered about four times (not to mention all the unanswered messages and e-mails!). At any rate, we found out that the sole reason we are not in Italy already is that the Godfather has not yet procured an apartment for us. That would be why my head exploded at 2 a.m. last Tuesday. The only victory in this is that I now know for certain that Natalie will be in junior high (diapered or not) before we get our paperwork for Italy. Let’s change the subject.

5. I discovered that if you’re the lead singer for the Eagles and you happen to have a pair of small green maracas, your crotch is not a flattering place to hold them.

6. I’ve been writing again and feeling far more fulfilled than I have in months. (Obviously, nothing beats the satisfaction of using “maracas” and “crotch” in the same sentence!)

Another week gone, and I’m lounging in bed with a bellyful of dancing baby and a content heart. It’s more than I could ask.

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