The Trip Part 7

  
On Monday we had a day at sea which was awesome and totally needed. The kids slept in. My husband and I were up at 6, as usual. We had been having breakfast at the buffet because we needed to be quick and get off the ship early.

I wanted to sit down and have an actual breakfast. I wanted to be alone with my husband and have eggs Benedict. That's what we did. We told the kids we were having breakfast- they mumbled an acknowledgement- and we left them sleeping in the cabin to have breakfast together. We are garbage parents.

It was so nice. We had a leisurely breakfast and re-connected with each other. Then we started packing and waited for the kids to roll out of bed. We spent the day swimming on the top deck and sunbathing. Every time we passed a little island my husband and kids would point and declare, "Johnny Depp's island!" and laugh. It must be an inside joke.

I booked a dinner and show that they offer on the ship called Cirque Dream which was neat. They had all kinds of circus-type acts. We were seated for dinner and my husband and I had to get up to use the bathroom before the server came by. When we came back my 12 year old was laughing. "Oh my God! The waitress asked me if she could get me a class of wine."
"Did you say no?"
"I said I would like a soda."
She could pass for 15 or 16 if she is wearing makeup but not 21. What the hell?!?! I recalled the story of when my husband was served coffee with whiskey in it when he was 17. Idiots.

They show was really good but at some point there was this buff guy in a tub of water and then he was doing this acrobatic act with a woman. He was all wet and it was slightly erotic. My 10 year old turned to us and said, "When did this show turn into Magic Mike?"

How does she even know Magic Mike? Garbage parents. We laughed and laughed. She needs to be a stand up comedian the someday.

The next day we arrived in Naples and planned to spend the day in Pompeii. That was the place I was most looking forward to besides Rome. I've read books and watched all the documentaries about Pompeii. I was pumped. We took a taxi to the train station.

Naples was a little rough around the edges. I leaned into my husband, "Naples is like the younger brother of Rome and Florence that dropped out of high school and dabbled in drugs. You know what I'm saying?" He looked at me like I was insane, but he understood the point I was trying to get across.

The train dumped us off close to the entrance of Pompeii. It was pretty packed. We got our tickets and waited in line to go into one of the bathhouses. We were so excited. There were lots of people, kids and adults. We walked to the first room and look up at the painting on the wall and there were like, 5 different sex acts depicted on the wall. I'm not talking about your standard run-of-mill missionary. Depictions of cunnilingus, reverse cowgirl....Dear God. My husband and I were like,
                    
We didn't say anything, we just kind of walked through. The kids didn't say anything. They just acted like everything was normal but I know they saw them. Y'all better not be taking notes. 

I knew that there were some questionable things in Pompeii but I was under the assumption that I could re-direct. I didn't expect the first room of the first building we went into to be that graphic. Other than that, the rest of it was fine.

I was surprised by how HUGE the city was. We were there for 6 hours and didn't see the whole thing. It was also incredible how advanced their society was and the architecture was just stunning. To see murals and walk through buildings that were around in the time of Christ was humbling. It was so eerie to be there. To see the casts of bodies, forever frozen in their final moments. The people of Pompeii didn't realize that Mount Vesuvius was a volcano until it erupted. It was truly fascinating.
         
         

                            

We toured the houses and the amphitheater and the bathhouses. We walked up and down the stone streets and took it all in and got a good idea of what life was like for the people that lived there. It was definitely one of the highlights of the trip. It was on the top of my bucket list.

Of course, there were lots of penises. You could just be walking by and see stuff like this:
                                             
                          
My kids were like, "Look, there's another one!" They are everywhere. Pomeiians were obsessed.

You can't escape them even when you leave Pompeii. We went to have frozen lemonade and gelato across the street from the main entrance and they were selling olive oil in these giant penis containers that had happy faces on the top. Giant, happy olive oil penises. We'd seen so many this whole trip- statues, paintings, in stones. D*cks everywhere in Europe.

We sat down to eat my old oldest daughter said, "Do you know what I noticed? All of the penises in Italy are uncircumcised. Why?"
"How do you even know about that?"
"Because you are my mom and you sometimes talk about it."
I don't even realize the sh*t that comes out of my own mouth but I probably do say stuff all the time like, "Then the baby got his penis skin cut off and he was very unhappy."

So I did answer her question and talked about the cultural beliefs around circumcision and how religion can influence it, and how circumcision is much more common in the US than Europe and the purpose and function of the foreskin. I was spreading some anti-circumcision propaganda. "So uncircumcised penises are okay and they are not weird or gross and circumcised ones are okay too. They come in all shapes and sizes and you never make anyone feel bad about their body."

My husband was just sitting there like:
                  
I'm open. I don't think it's weird. I am a proponent for being body positive for MEN and WOMEN. We talk about unrealistic expectations for women but it's just as bad for men. Men are expected to have abs, muscular arms, be 6 foot tall, have a giant penis and a strong jawline AND make good money, be romantic, ect. Raising boys in this society is hard and they suffer from insecurity too. I think we downplay it and don't talk about it as much but it is a very real thing.

The truth of the matter is, whether I like it or not, my kids are going to be around penises one day. It's just a part of life. Hopefully, not a lot of them. Hopefully, just a couple. But when they do, they better not be a**holes about it or have unrealistic expectations.

We got back on the train and headed back to our last night on the ship. It made me sad that our adventure was ending but I was itching to get home. Nothing can last forever.

The Trip Part 6

                                         
On Saturday, we landed in Palma de Mallorca. Originally, when I booked the trip we were supposed to port in Provence, France but 9 months ago they changed the itinerary. I am so glad. Palma was awesome.

We walked to the Palma Cathedral and Palau de l'Almudaina. Both were really cool. There were a lot of vendors selling wares and we wandered around window shopping and watching the street performers. We went to this cute little restaurant by the Cathedral.

I speak a fair amount of Spanish. I worked at the Health Department for 5 years and I picked up a lot. I spoke to our waiter in Spanish and he asked where we were from. I explained to him, in Spanish, that my husband was Puerto Rican but that he didn't speak Spanish.

The look on the waiter's face was, Whats up with that? My husband grew up in a Spanish-speaking household but he always spoke English to his parents. He definitely has much better comprehension than I do but I can speak it better than he can. Our poor children speak ZERO Spanish. My little Puerto Rican daughters. They have never seen me speak Spanish so they were like,
                                      
They were surprised. I have this whole spanish-speaking life that they don't even know about.

We had paella that was amazing.

YYYYYAAAAASSSSS

Then we headed to Belver Castle. We were so excited to go to a real life castle.

It was so cool! There was a lot of art, we went to the rooftop and admired the view of the island. We found a cool secret passage in a fireplace. Mallorca was awesome!

The next day we went to Barcelona. My youngest was most excited about Barcelona. We did a bus tour but before we got on the bus we walked down Las Ramblas, we discovered a square where people were carrying bed sheets filled with their junk to sell. They laid out their sheets with their goods. My husband was like, "No wonder my family likes yard sales so much. It comes from the Spainish side."  

We explored the Gothic Quarter and toured the Catedral de Barcelona.

It was Sunday so we were in there while they were having mass. It was weird because they were having mass at the front of the church but the back of the church was roped off and filled with tourists. It was so cool to be inside and hear the organ playing. 

We took the bus to Park Guell which I was SUPER excited about. It was massive. My oldest daughter was being kind of an a**hole and complained about how hot it was. "This is practice for band camp in 6 week, let's move along." It was really cool and pretty. 

Then we had lunch and saw Sagra de Familia, the Olympic Stadium, Gaudis modernist buildings, the Christopher Columbus monument. It was a LONG day. 

And that was Spain. We loved it. Next stop: Pompeii. The many penises of Pompeii.

The Trip Part 5

                      
On Friday, we arrived in Cannes, France. The ship anchored and we had to tender into the the port. We were on the second half of the guests getting off. As we were waiting to get to shore we met this couple from England. The husband was a former pathologist and the wife taught at the boarding school Princess Diana attended. They were fascinating. I could have talked to them all day.

We got to shore around lunchtime. It was amazingly beautiful.


We walked down the sidewalk along the beach and surveyed all the restaurants. The kids picked a bougie looking place where we could sit outside and overlook the French Riviera. I felt like a real life movie star. I took 5 years of French in high school and I actually got to practice speaking French - to actual French people! I was super excited about it. The kids were a little bit impressed. Okay, not openly but maybe inside.

The food was AMAZING. I had this steak salad with roasted red peppers, artichokes, sun dried tomatoes...

                                                              GET IN MY BELLY

Then we headed to the beach. I wanted a chill day, we had been going non-stop and we wanted to just relax and swim in the clear blue Mediterranean. That's what we did. The water was freezing cold but I went in anyway. The kids were loving it. The views were fantastic.

I had told the kids before we left that I was going to go topless in Europe. They didn't believe me.  I told them ahead of time. I was kind of fascinated by the idea that you can do that there. There were a few other topless women, it wasn't a big deal. I took off my top and laid on my stomach to read a book. I wasn't frolicking up and down the beach.

My oldest daughter did not care. My youngest flipped out. Completely lost her shit. "You are disgusting mom. Seriously, I can see the top of your nips."
"Don't look then. Go swimming."
"But people can SEE you."
"No one is looking at me."

Then she cried actual tears. So, I sat up and put my top back on. She was so pissed. "REALLY? You had to sit up?" I didn't realize she would feel so strongly about it. Of all the kids to be weird about it, my kid? The child of a lactation consultant?

Breasts have been a part of their childhood. I have always worked in women's health. They have grown up with me putting together presentations of breasts, they would help me put together my demo breast pumps, they've walked by me watching hand expression videos, I had a fake silicone boob I used to use for education and I would have it out sometimes, I would review the pictures in the breastfeeding atlas. I talk about nipples and the anthropology of breasts at the dinner table- we always have. On my bookshelf you'll find The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding, Rediscovering Birth, cultural histories of the penis, human sexuality and menstruation, The Breastfeeding Answer Book. I have a degree in Human Ecology, it's my area of study. I'm also kind of a hippie and so that all seems normal to me. I literally have zero hang ups about the human body. ZERO.

Needless to say, I wasn't freaked out about my kids seeing women topless. I was actually kind of glad about it. I kind of wanted them to see real women's bodies. Boys shower together in locker rooms but girls don't. Many times the only images that girls will see of another woman's bodies is in movies. Thin women, with perfect curves, and perky breasts. F*ck that.

Over half of the women I have seen over the years complain to me about their breasts. They are too big, too little, one is bigger than the other, nipples are too flat, too big, too little, ect. I'm always a little bit confused because it all seems pretty normal to me. They come in all shapes and sizes. Some are big, some are little, some hang high, some hang low, some are pointy, some are saggy, some nipples are big, some are little, some people have extra nippeles..... Guess what? All of that is okay. Babies don't care, They work with what they have. Men certainly don't care. Women are their own worse critics.

Why does this matter to me? Because I have daughters. I am very aware of the messages I am sending to them and I try to model body positivity. I love my body. It's not perfect. It's a mom body but what am I supposed to do? Hate it? NO! Ain't nobody got time for that. My body tells stories. It's been a lot of places, it's been good to me. I embrace and pay homage to my body.

My girls will say things to me about my body. I feel like they are testing me, or trying to get my opinion - maybe they are just straight assholes and are insulting me on purpose. That's a possibility. I always turn it back around. They tease me for being flat chested. I don't care. "These things gave me 4 years of good service and kept you alive. More than a...."
My husband cut me off with a pissed off look. What I was going to say was, "More than a hand full is a waste-full." I am not a legit parent.

Then the thighs. My kids always complain about their thighs. What is moronic, because they are thin girls. It starts in middle school. One day in the spring my oldest daughter came home all upset because some girl told her that you can only be "pretty" if you have a thigh gap.

I was like:
                 
What the hell are you going to do with a thigh gap? "Well, first of all - you shouldn't really take advice from 12 year old girls because they have no life experience. Second of all, that is stupid. If you're going to have a good butt you need some generous thighs to hold it up. Thick thighs save lives. You are beautiful inside and out!"

Now I have some big-ass thighs. Those things could keep you warm at night. They have stretch marks, they are kind of dimply. I don't care. I embrace them. I make it known. I was changing one day and my daughter came in and she said to me sadly, "I feel like I'm going to have your legs when I grow up." Like she was disappointed.

I smiled at her. "Really? Wow! You are so lucky. I'm a sexy lady. Thick girls are where it's at!"

I always tell them not to judge other people for their looks or their bodies and I always cut them off when they judge their own. I tell them all the time that CONFIDENCE is sexy and beautiful. Being smart and funny and KIND is sexy and beautiful. Not a thigh gap and a 6-pack. You don't have to have the perfect body to be comfortable in your own skin. I hope they are listening a little bit.

Anyway, the whole point of this tangent is that women should love their bodies and if they want to be topless in France, they should.

After we spent the day relaxing on the beach, we went to a Popsicle stand and ordered treats. I had a cappuccino and dulce de leche that was so delicious. Then it was time to get back to the ship.

We had dinner and saw a dancing show called Burn the Floor. It was really good, we were entertained. Next stop: Spain.

The Trip Part 4

                                 
We decided to sleep in on Wednesday morning. We'd walked SO much the previous 3 days that our feet were so sore and we were exhausted. We rolled out of bed at 9:30, had breakfast and packed everything up to head to the ship. It was nice. We needed to re-charge a bit.

The plan was to take a bus to the train station and then a taxi to the port. We loaded our suitcases onto the bus and we were on our way to the train station....so we thought. The train station was the last stop on the route so we rode for half an hour. We had one more stop until the train station....and you guessed it. The bus driver was like, Screw you guys. I have other plans.

He stopped the bus at this park, got out and started flirting with this woman at the park. She must have been his side chick or something. Cute lady - tight jeans and long black hair that cascaded down her back. We just sat on the damn bus and watched the bus driver lean over the fence and give this lady googly eyes. I can appreciate that you're trying to get a piece of ass, bus driver guy, but can't you do it AFTER you drop us off at the train station?

My husband was like, "We are hiring a car to take us to the airport when we get off. I don't care how much it is. Seriously, that's what we are doing."

We got to the train station and made our way to Civitavecchia. I leaned against the window as the city turned to countryside which turned into seaside. It was so pretty. We arrived to the cruise terminal and it was empty. It was 3:30 and check in started at noon so we were pretty late. It was the best thing ever. We walked right in, did our stuff in 10 minutes and were on the ship. I will always check in late from now on. We sailed on the Norwegian Epic which was a HUGE ship.

We had a late lunch and then went right up to the top deck and jumped in the pool and rode the water slides. It was sunny and beautiful, they had live music. We were living the good life. After the ship disembarked we got dressed for dinner.

The Epic has like, 20 restaurants. It was crazy. We decided on Asian. The kids were so excited about the food. That's the best part of cruises, you order what you want and as much as you want because it's already paid for. We ordered a ton of food and sampled each other's meals.

There was a sweet old lady sitting at a table next to us and she complimented my daughters. She was telling me about her children and grandchildren and how fast they are growing up. I smiled at her, "You know, it's so funny because my kids keep getting older but I stay the same age." I believe it.

After dinner we explored the ship and made our show reservations. Then, we headed to bed because we wanted to get off the ship early to get as much time as possible in Florence.

Oh my God! Florence! LOVED LOVED LOVED! As beautiful as Rome but less crowded and much more walkable. I had purchased advanced tickets to Santa Croce because that's where Michelangelo is buried, and as I mentioned earlier, my oldest daughter has an obsession with him. We had a map and we let our 10 year old be the navigator. She loved it. She felt so important. We walked along the riverfront and admired the views.

She successfully navigated us to Santa Croce.
 
We walked through and admired the art and architecture and of course, the tomb of Michelangelo.
 
                                            
Also, Galileo's tomb is there and a monument to Dante. My husband is a Dante fanboy so we was pumped about that. There is a museum attached to Santa Croce and beautiful outdoor spaces and we spent hours there.

We had lunch at a tiny restaurant outside of the square and I had slice of lasagna that melted in my mouth. My husband had spaghetti and meatballs that were out of this world. So good.

Our youngest then navigated us to Dante's house which had a little museum. It was cool enough. My husband was REALLY into it. He is obsessed with Dante. He's read Inferno like, 20 times. He downloaded it on his phone to listen to during long commutes. He's read Dante's biography and knows random facts about him. Weirdo. I don't know how he got so stuck on Dante but he was in heaven.

We went to see the Duomo. Although, we didn't go inside. It was MASSIVE.



We watched some street performers and then headed to Mercato Centrale. On our walk over there we stumbled across a square with a carousel.
                           
"I'm riding it," I told my husband.
"Really?"
"Yes. I don't care if I'm old. I'm in Italy and I'm going to do all the things."

The girls and I were so excited. We shelled out our Euros and we picked our horses. We rode up and down and around and I admired the building behind us and the square. It made me so happy.

We resumed our walk to the Mercado Centrale. On our way we came across a big outdoor flower market and a courtyard of art and statues. That's a thing in Italy. We made our way to the market and ordered desserts at the bakery and we walked up and down the booths and window shopped.

We let them pick out a few (inexpensive) things. Then, we headed back to the ship.

We were at dinner when the ship disembarked and we watched Florence fade into the distance. Next stop: Cannes, France and the time I went topless on the beach and which caused my 10 year old to have an actual nervous breakdown.

                         

Happiness Is Not A Fish That You Can Catch

                               
I just had my 15th wedding anniversary. Which seems impossible because I'm only 25. ;) It's gone by so fast- 15 years, 180 months, 782 weeks, 5,479 days. I can still go back in my mind and feel like I'm there with him, on the courthouse steps - the Texas morning sun shining down on us, his hand clasped in mine as we got ready to step into this future that we couldn't possibly envision as teenagers, but we knew we would be together and that would be enough.

I love to reminisce about how we fell in love but it happened far before I even realized it. We worked down the shore together the summer of 2000 and we were instant friends. There were trips to the beach, the mall, movies. He wasn't like everyone else. He had this devil-may-care attitude and he was always a gentleman to me. He would drop hints sometimes but they were too subtle. I didn't pick up on them at all. He was just a 17 year old boy.

We had good times together, just the two of us, as friends. The December after we met, the people at the deli we worked at down the shore threw a Christmas party at a seafood restaurant in Avalon. I didn't drive but wanted to go so he offered to take me.

I remember that night so vividly. We met up at the Wawa down the street. I was wearing tight black pants and platform shoes, a purple form fitting V-neck cardigan sweater and the new black peacoat that I had just purchased at Boscov's for $92. Seriously, $92 for a coat 17 years ago?!?!? How wonderful to be 16 and not have bills.

He had on wide leg khaki cargo pants and a black Champion jacket that was at least one size too big. He still has that jacket. It was a good investment- better than my $92 peacoat. He smelled like Joop and Dentene Ice. He was my very good friend.

It was dark already and we had gotten an early snow that year, not too much; just 2-3 inches - enough to cover the ground. We drove to the restaurant and had a delicious seafood dinner with our summer co-workers. We recalled funny stories - the time I thought the condoms under the counter were cigarettes and the good looking life guard that would come in everyday and eat a doughnut while browsing the store and not pay for it. The mood was light and a good time was had by all.

Dinner was over early, around 8 and my curfew was 11. We had 3 hours to kill. "My grandfather has a summer house in Stone Harbor," I told him. "Do you want to see it?"
He shrugged, "Sure."
We drove to Stone Harbor and I directed him through the abandoned winter streets. We pulled up in front of the house and it was all dark. I had never seen it with snow covering the ground and it seemed different. "Come on," I told him as I got out of the car and stepped into the frigid air. He followed me and we trekked through the snow, through the breezeway to the back of the house to the back deck. We sat out there for a while, watching the light of the moon reflect off the bay, the wind stung our checks and you could see the heat of of breath as we sat out there together. "This is it," I told him.

I was sharing a piece of my childhood with him in that moment and it's a dear memory I hold on to now. He spent some time there with me the following summer and I am so happy he got to be there with me, in a place that holds so many of my happy childhood memories.

It was only 9 o'clock and we headed home. He played some crappy electronica CD that I tolerated. We were driving down Landis Ave when we passed a house that had a neon sign that said: PHYSIC READINGS. OPEN."

"Ohhhhh! Let's get a reading!" I said.
He scrunched his nose. "That's stupid."
"Come ON! It will be fun! Live a little!"

He gave into me (he has a tendency to do that) and turned the car around. We pulled up in front of the house. It was a small, crappy little house and seemed a little bit sketch but we were 16 and 17. We were young, wild and free. It was exciting.

We knocked on the door and a woman answered right away, as if she was expecting us. There was another woman behind her. They were both middle aged with long, dark curly hair. They both had black eyeliner and wore long skirts. They had to have been sisters.

The woman who answered the door spoke with an accent that I didn't recognize. "Come in," she said.
We were ushered into a living room. The second woman motioned for him to follow her into a back room. "You come with me," she told him. He looked at me nervously.
                   
He was being a little over dramatic about the whole thing but he followed her anyway.

The other woman stood next to me and waited motionlessly until the two of them had disappeared into the back of the house. Then she grabbed my hand and led me over to a couch and told me to sit down. She sat down in front of me and straightened her skirt.

She pointed to the wall behind her and said very nonchalantly, "That boy that came in here with you - he is not your boyfriend but he thinks about the sex with you ALOT."

What?!?!? How could that even be? I was flabbergasted. I had never had any indication that would be the case. Him? Really? Maybe it's because I spent the summer riding in his passengers seat wearing a bikini drop and reading Cosmopolitan articles to him out loud. I was 16, I didn't know any better. I tortured that poor boy.

The fortune teller sat down and gave me my reading. I loved her accent and her voice was soft, sweet and hypnotic. She told me about how I felt misunderstood, how I didn't like my parents, how I'd had my heart broken.

I was shocked. HOW DOES SHE KNOW? THIS IS LEGIT. Now as an adult, I laugh and laugh. I could do that job. Every teenager is misunderstood, hates their parents, and has had their heart broken.  I would add - concerned about your future, trying to find your identity, ect. She charged me $40 for the reading as well as some oil and a candle that was supposed to be "cleansing".

He reappeared with the second fortune teller and they sent us back into the cold. We sat down in his car and said nothing for a moment. It was awkward. "What did she tell you?" he asked. I grinned. "She said that you think about the sex with me ALOT."

He turned bright red. I'm talking, his face all the way to the tips of his ears. "Is that true?" I laughed.
He scoffed, "No. That's disgusting."
I laughed out loud. "Are you sure? She said A LOT, not even a little bit. You're probably thinking about it right now, you perv."
I was such an a**hole. I'm the worst person on the planet. He was getting so pissed off.
"I don't even like you like that," he said with anger in his voice.
"Good," I replied, "Because that's never going to happen."

"What did she tell you?" I asked him.
"I'm not telling you," he replied.
I begged and pleaded for him to tell me but he would not utter a word about what had transpired in that back room. I folded my arms, pouted and looked out the window for the rest of the car ride.

We wound up getting together just 2 and a half months later and from time to time I would bring up the fortune teller and ask what she had said and he always denied me the answer. It wasn't until after we were married that he finally told me.

He recounted the whole story about how the woman took him to a kitchen area and they sat at a table and she told him about how we were soul mates but that we would never be together. He recounted that it had devastated him. "I didn't want to tell you until I was sure that she was wrong," he said.

Yes, the Landis Ave fortune teller was wrong. Go figure.

That seems like a lifetime a ago. We have grown up together, built this life, brought two children into the world, we will be parents of a teenager in just 3 weeks. In a lot of ways we are the same though, deep inside. We're just a little worn now. That's okay though because sometimes we can just look at each other and we are young and wild and free again. That is truly a gift. When you marry your high school sweetheart you get to be forever young.

I was trying to figure out how to celebrate our anniversary this year. Something small, because we did just have our European adventure. After we got back, I heard an ad on the radio for an Our Lady Peace/ Collective Soul concert on the ACTUAL day of our anniversary. That's it!

The summer we dated, we would often listened to Happiness Is Not a Fish That You Can Catch by Our Lady Peace. It was a nice break from some of the sh*t electronica he was listening to then. Before he left for the ARMY he gave me some things of his. His HUGE CD holder with all of his CDs, his jacket, his cologne, pictures we had taken (there were no smartphones or digital cameras then).

I was so sad when he was gone. Sometimes, I would just sit down in my room, wrap myself in his jacket, and listen to Blister on repeat and weep. How emo of me. What a teenage girl thing to do. If that was my own daughter, I would be rolling my eyes SO HARD.
                 
                   "Go take a cold shower and get your sh*t together."

Anyway, my point is, we have a connection to Our Lady Peace. I wanted to surprise him. I told the kids that we would be out until 11. My oldest was in charge and my youngest had a friend sleepover. It's kind of weird that my kids are at babysitting age now and they can babysit themselves. We should be taking advantage of this and having a date night every week.

We went out to dinner and then headed to the venue. We discovered that our friends also were going to be there so we planned to meet up. We had general admission seats but the show wasn't sold out so we snuck down to a lower level. Tonic opened the show, which was amazing. They were making all of our 90's dreams come true. Then, our friend was like, "I have a friend working here tonight. He can get us down to front row seats." What?!?! As you remember, Swaggy Kid also got us on to the floor at the Twenty One Pilots concert. We keep getting the hook up.

Sure enough, we were within spitting distance. Right up front. I was soooo excited. Our Lady Peace came out and played and were amazing. It was so cool to be so close and we sang along to all the words. Then it rained and we took cover for a while and waited for Collective Soul to come out.

They started playing and we went back to our seats. They had just started our set when my friend said, "My friend is with the lead singer of Our Lady Peace, do you want to meet him?"

We were like, "Hell yes!" So we followed him up and sure enough there was Raine Maida in the flesh. Our friend was all loud pointing to us, "It's their 15th anniversary!" He was super chill.
"Happy Anniversary!" he said.
"We are high school sweethearts and we kept Happiness Is Not A Fish That You Can Catch on repeat when we were dating. We are HUGE fans!"
"That's awesome," he replied. He shook my husband's hand and gave me a side hug and we got our picture taken. It made our YEAR! It was the f*cking coolest.

Then we went back down and listened to the rest of the show. Collective Soul was AMAZING. They ended the show with one of my favorite songs, Run. I love that song. We clapped our hands and sang along. I was so happy. I leaned into my husband and said, "Can you believe this is our life?"

I mean, we really have been so fortunate and so blessed. Beyond my wildest dreams and expectations. It was a very memorable anniversary.

We joked with our friends on the way home and recounted how great the show was. When we got home, everyone was asleep. It was only a little after 11, so that was unusual. We went into the bedroom to get into our pajamas and our desktop computer was up that showed a confirmation for $40 worth of Chinese food. What the hell?

I woke up my oldest. "Dude! How did you get $40 for Chinese food. Is there even a Chinese food place that delivers in this area?"
She rubbed her eyes, half asleep. "Well, the younger kids wanted Chinese food and they had cash and I chipped in $10 so I placed the order online and they just delivered it to the house. Don't worry, I didn't let them come in."

I wasn't even mad, I was a little impressed. These kids are resourceful. They wanted Chinese food and they found a way to make it happen by themselves. They might survive the zombie apocalypse.

I crawled into bed with my husband and he put his arms around me. "So, fifteen years...."
"Yea," I replied. "We're old. We're so old that we have kids that are old enough to order Chinese food and pay for it themselves."

This life has been good to us.

. 

The Trip Part 3

                 
On Tuesday morning, I was up early - around 6 am. The sun was just coming up. My husband stirred as well and turned to me. We had a quiet conversation. Both the kids were sleeping like logs. I may or may not have some inappropriate things to him. We started talking about our plans for the day - Vatican City. I had pre-purchased our Vatican museum tickets and food vouchers. "If we see the pope, I'm going to ask him if he sh*ts in the woods."

My daughter (who I thought was asleep) burst out in laughter.
"Oh, you're awake?" I said, surprised.
She sat up in bed. "Yes. I've been awake this whole time, and also, you are a disgusting person."
                                 
The reason I said that is because it's my father's favorite one-liner. If you ask him a stupid question, he'll reply with, "Does the pope sh*t in the woods?" It's ludicrous and makes us laugh every time.

Although we are not practicing Catholics, my husband and I were raised Catholic. My family was on and off again mass attenders, but I was confirmed in the Catholic church. My husband was raised VERY Catholic. His mom was always at church, they had a virgin Mary in the front yard, there were Jesus pictures and crucifixes EVERYWHERE in his house. In high school, we'd be sitting on his couch and he'd try to kiss me and I'd look up and see
                                             
"Uggggh! Get away from me. You need some holy water."

I'd go to Spanish mass with them sometimes. Spanish mass was so much longer than English mass. English mass was great - sing a hymn, hear a scripture, peace be with you, kneel and sit, kneel and sit, communion and doughnuts and coffee about an hour later. Efficient. Spanish mass was long, they did the rosary like a million times. I can STILL recite Hail Mary in Spanish.

So, we were excited to go to the Vatican because of our Catholic upbringing but also because we are both obsessed with the HBO show The Young Pope. Every time we watched a new episode, I would get excited and say, "Ohhhhh! We're going to be there in June!"

My oldest daughter was excited to see the Sistine Chapel. She did a project in 6th grade on Michelangelo and is weirdly obsessed with him. We went all out for this project- I even purchased a Michelangelo costume (yes, that is an actual thing) that is still on my garage. The 2 things she was looking forward to on this trip was: the Sistine Chapel and Michelangelo's grave in Florence.

We got dressed and ready to go. They had beautiful dresses on and they looked like such pretty young ladies. We took the bus to Vatican City and walked into St. Peter's square which was such a surreal experience. I'm used to seeing aerial views of the square and it was weird to be in the middle of it. The bells from St. Peter's Basilica began to chime and my husband and I just looked at each other in disbelief. It was real, we were finally there.

The queue for the Basilica was already much too long so we made our way to the museums. We already had our tickets so we got to skip the huge line that had formed. The Vatican museums were like nothing we could even imagine. It is one of the most beautiful places in the world. It was also VERY crowded. "I'm enjoying my visit to the Vatican with 30,000 of my closest friends," I said to the children.

The girls were as much in awe as we were. We examined the paintings, the tapestries, the statues as we followed the hordes of people through to the Sistine chapel.
                                
After what seemed like a LOT of walking, we made it. It was jam packed with people but we made our way through, in awe of the art and beauty. We stood directly in the middle, underneath the depiction of God and Adam and looked up.
   
My oldest was so ecstatic. She explained to us how he painted in lying on his back and how it took years and ruined his eyesight. It made her year. It was so cool.

After we explored the Sistine Chapel, we took a break in the Pinecone Courtyard and rested our feet.
                         
It had a weird globe thing in the center. "Illuminati confirmed," my 10 year old laughed.

We sat out there for a while, basking in the warm Italian sun and watching a 2 year old chase pigeons and then we explored the rest of the museums. There was an awesome Egyptian wing but the Pio-Clementino was my favorite. There were so many Roman and Greek statues. Absolutely stunning and breath taking.
                             

                             
                                         
                                                     Pictures don't do it justice.

We spent over 6 hours exploring and ended our visit in the gift shop. The children wanted to pick out rosaries. We aren't Catholic but okay. They each picked one out and the lady behind the counter held up the rosary that my 10 year old picked out and said in broken English, "This is for your first communion."

We paid for the rosaries and handed the bags to the children. My youngest smiled and said proudly, "I just got my first communion." My husband and I died. We laughed so hard we were crying. Then we explained to her about communion in the Catholic faith and that the rosary would be given as a gift to commemorate one's first communion. "Oh," she said, a little disappointed. "That seems like a lot of work."

Then we walked down this crazy spiral staircase to the exit.
                        
I only wish that Jude Law was there. Seriously, everything at the Vatican is beautiful and amazing. It was one of the highlights of our trip. LOVED IT.

We were all exhausted and our feet were sore. We took a bus back to our hotel. The bus was hot and crowded. As we approached our stop we made our way to the door. The bus doors opened and my 10 year old stepped out. As soon as she did, the doors closed and the bus started to move again. We screamed. My 10 year old just stood on the sidewalk with a look of fear in her eyes.
                                     
The bus driver immediately stopped and let us off. Only a few seconds had elapsed but still enough to freak us out. So let's recap: Day 1 in Rome: abandoned by a bus driver at 10:30 at night in the middle of nowhere Rome. Day 2 in Rome: Sat on the bus for 15 minutes hungry and watched a bus driver eat a sandwich with his friends. Day 3 in Rome: Bus driver drops 10 year old off on the street without parents and attempts to drive away. The Roman bus system was 0-3 so far in our eyes.

All is well that ends well though. We stumbled across this neighborhood pizzeria that was THE BOMB. They had a huge spread of 20 different types of pizza. They charged by the pound. We were pointing everywhere: we want a slice of this, a slice of that, a slice of this....it was $17. We laid out the pizza and sampled each other's selections and watched as the locals came in, with their Vespa helmets in hand. They ordered 1-2 slices of pizza, you know, because they are not fat Americans.

We collapsed when we got to the hotel. "We are sleeping IN tomorrow and then heading to the port," I told everyone.
"Only one more Roman bus ride," my husband said with a smile.

         

The Trip Part 2

We woke up early for day 2 in Rome. We had a big day planned: the Colosseum, Palatine Hill, the Roman Forum, Pantheon, Trevi Fountain....general exploring.

We took the bus to city center without incident and walked to the Colosseum. It's so weird to be in a place that you've seen so many times in pictures. It was very surreal. We had purchased a Roma pass prior to our trip which meant we skipped the lines at all of the major attractions. The line was like insane. We walked passed everyone, got our ticket and walked right in. The kids thought it was really cool.

Afterwards we had lunch at a restaurant across from the Colosseum. Talk about a view! I had linguine with clam sauce which was amazing. So much pasta...

Then we walked to Palantine Hill and the Roman Forum. We really liked Palentine Hill but we LOVED the Roman Forum. The Roman Forum was my favorite.
                         
To walk through structures that are thousands of years old, that have been around since before the time of Christ was a humbling experience that words can't really describe.

We all took a lot of pictures and OOOHHH and AAAAHHHHed.

Afterwards we headed to the Pantheon, which was MASSIVE. We walked in among hordes of people and it was so big and so beautiful that you didn't even know where to look to see it, to take it all in. We walked to the center right underneath the hole in the dome and looked up.

                       
We were in awe. Except for my husband who turned to me and said, "I wonder what happens when it rains?" He's always so practical.

We left and took a break at a fountain in front of the Pantheon. Absolutely beautiful.
                              
Then these protesters showed up with flags and crazy outfits and bullhorns. I don't know exactly what they were protesting about- LGBT rights, global warming, shitty metro service? We decided that it would be a good time to find some yummy gelato.

After our gelato (and macaroons) we made the hike to Trevi fountain.



There were a ton of people there but we managed to weasel our way to the front and we threw a coin in to ensure that we would go back to Rome in the future. It was so amazing.

At the end of the day, we were hot and exhausted. My husband looked down at his watch. "We walked 22,000 steps today." My poor kiddos. We loaded onto the bus, anxious to get back to our hotel and shower before dinner.

Everything was going as planned, we were almost back to the hotel when the bus driver pulled up behind 2 other stopped buses. He then proceeded to get out of the bus, and eat a sandwich and shoot the bull with 2 other bus drivers who ALSO had bus fulls of people.

We looked around and everyone else on the bus was no bothers. They acted like this was a totally normal occurrence. My husband and I just laughed. "This would not fly in the US. Someone on the bus would start going ghetto."

After the bus driver ate his sandwich, he sauntered back to his seat like a bus and dropped us off. We walked back to the hotel, showered, and then went back to the restaurant around the corner. There were so many things on the menu we saw the night before that we wanted to try.

We ate so much food it was disgusting. We got appetizers and different entrees and we all sampled each other's food. We saved room for creme brulee for dessert. Yum!

Then we walked back to the hotel, got into our jammies, and watched King of the Hill in Italian which was strange and amusing. It was a good day.

The Trip Part 1

       
We are finally back from our trip and are still recovering. It was quite an adventure. When I booked the trip 16 months ago, I thought it was a good idea to leave immediately following the kids getting out of school. Dumbass. The week before was insanely hectic. I didn't get my packing done until the last minute.

The good news is that I have big kids so I put them in charge of getting their own sh*t together. I figured that it would be easy. I made a list of everything they needed to gather, photocopied it and handed it to each child. My oldest got to work right away. My youngest looked at the list, looked up and me and said, "I don't have clothes for the cruise. I need new shorts."
                 
Keep in mind that 6 weeks prior we went shopping for clothes for the cruise, I purchased 2 dresses, 4 shirts, and 2 pairs of shorts to supplement her current wardrobe. I went into her room and pulled out some of the things I purchased. "Those aren't vacation clothes."
"Yes they are, I'm not buying you anymore clothes."
She crossed her arms. "I'm not packing then."
I shrugged, "Then I'll pick your outfits."
She protested. I pulled jean shorts from her drawer. You want to know what she said to me?
"Those don't go with anything."
PLAIN jean shorts. Random, run-of-the mill, jean shorts.
"Dude! Jean shorts go with everything."
She rolled her eyes, "OMG, mom. That is so trashy."
How? They are jean shorts. After a lot of back and forth, she reluctantly got her things together. She can be so darn difficult.

Saturday morning my dad drove us to the airport. We flew to NYC and had a long layover so I had planned to have lunch in Times Square and see a little bit of the city. My husband was having a little bit of a freak out about it. "What are we going to do with our bags? How are we going to get into the city? Are you sure we are going to be back in time?"

He knows me. I was amazed that he could possibly think I didn't plan this out ahead of time. "We will pay to store our bags in Terminal 1, we'll take the Jamaica train station to Times Square....blah, blah, blah."

That's what we did. We took the subway to Manhattan and had pizza for lunch, then we went to Times Square. The last time I was in New York City was 16 years ago, a month before 9/11. I was dating my husband then. Time passes so quickly. My oldest had been for her 10th birthday and she recounted some of her NYC adventures. We went to the Hersey store and watched some street performers. We saw the naked cowboy and ate candy outside of Madison Square Garden. Then, we headed back to the airport.

I booked our tickets to Rome through Royal Air Maroc. They were cheap as sh*t. I paid like, $460 round trip per ticket. That's how much we paid for plane tickets to Denver from Atlanta last year, to put it in perspective. My husband was really skeptical about it. "I've never heard of this airline. I bet it's sketch."
I defended my decision, "Well, it had 4 stars on the review and Delta also had 4 stars so, I'm sure it will be fine."
He was not convinced.

They lined us up to board at 9 pm and as we boarded the plane they handed us these boxes. "What is this?" I asked.
"Just something for you," the attended told me.
I was so excited. "Something for me?!?!" My family thought I was a little too excited about it. It was a little treat. It had a sandwich, a bottle of water, a banana, a little pastry. But it was for ME. I get excited about the little things in life.

We stepped onto the plane and it was a beautiful Boeing 757 Dreamliner. The plane was manufactured 10 miles from our house. How cool is that? They were playing some crazy cool arabic music and everything on the plane was labeled in English and arabic. My husband looked at me like I was insane, but I just smiled. I was excited.

I have never flown internationally and I am used to crappy, horrible flights with measly bags of pretzels.  This was like a luxury airplane to me. There was a little fleece blanket, a pillow, an eye mask with socks and headphones on the seat. We sat down, settled in, browsed through the array of movies that were available, and ate the food out of our little box.

For some reason, they kept serving us food. Granted it wasn't Halls Chophouse but it was edible. Better than expected. The desserts were yummy and the coffee was better than decent. After 7 hours in the air, we landed in Morocco. The airport was in Casablanca and was small. We had to get off the plane and take a shuttle to the airport. We stepped off the plane and looked around. "We are in Africa, you guys! You'll have been in 3 continents in 24 hours. Isn't that awesome!"

I had initially tried to book a long layover in Casablanca to tour the city but it didn't work out. We had a 2 hour layover and then boarded the plane to Rome. We got to Rome around 3 pm. It was pretty painless getting out of the airport and passing through passport control. I hired a car to pick us up at the airport and the driver spoke little English. He offered my husband a cigarette. Otherwise, he didn't interact with us. He turned on the radio and bobbed his head as he drove us into the city to the hotel. You would have thought it was American radio except for the commercials in Italian.

It was so cool to look out the window and watch the city go by. I had a lot of preconceived notions of what it would be like. I was amazed at how big the city actually was, how many flowers there were, how every inch and every corner of every building was ornate, how there are just random ruins scattered about, the ridiculous amount of graffiti.

My husband then gave us all a lecture about the role of graffiti in ancient Roman culture, "In the time of Claudius....blah,blah,blah...." He's so funny.

The driver dropped us off at the hotel and helped haul our bags to the curb. I booked a hotel outside of the city center because it was so damn expensive. I initially wanted to stay at a hotel with a view of the Colosseum but at $300 a night, that was just not happening. Our hotel was in a residential area and only 2 blocks from the metro stop. It was perfect.

We checked in, took showers and then ventured out to see some of the sights. We climbed the Spanish steps, stopped at a small restaurant and had caprese sandwiches, bruschetta and a glass of wine (not the kids of course). Then we explored the area around Piazza Venezia which was massive and amazingly beautiful.
                             
We climbed the steps and looked out at the city. It was warm and breezy and it was the perfect night. We had this moment when we realized that our dream had come true. We've talked about visit Rome for so long but it was more like a silly longing - as realistic a trip to the moon. But to be there, in that moment, with our family was surreal. I felt an intense sense of gratitude.

We were tired by the end of the night and we got on a bus to take us back to the hotel. Because we were 10 minutes outside of the city center, we wound up being the last ones on the bus. The bus stopped at the train station which, by 10:30 at night was closed. The bus driver turned off the bus, got out and said to us in broken English. "All done. The bus is broken."

We all looked at each other like, What the F is happening right now.
"We need to get to Taglimento. What do you mean the bus is broken?"
"Another bus in 20 minuti," he replied.

What other option did we have? We got off the bus and sat on the curb. We watched the bus driver eat a sandwich, talk to someone on his cell phone, and then this bitch started the bus and drove away. My husband was annoyed. I was resigned, I had heard that transportation in Italy has the tendency to be a little sketch and not on time.

The kids were concerned, "Are we going to have to sleep outside?"
"No. He said another bus is coming by in 20 minutes," I reassured them.
My husband chuckled, "He also said the bus was broken and we all know he lied about that."

The bus did show up 20 minutes later and before you know it, we were on our way. We got off at the wrong stopped, walked 5 more blocks than we should have and at 11:30 pm were passing by a small restaurant that was around the corner from our hotel. There was a woman outside gathering plates. "Are you still open?" I asked.
She nodded and escorted us to an outdoor patio beneath the street. There were tables of people drinking wine and eating. They would stay open a while. They had the most delicious menu. We ordered hand made pasta and pizza with crust that melted in your mouth. It ruined American pizza for us forever. They were kind and hospitable to us and fawned over our daughters. We didn't leave until 12:30 am.

We got back to the hotel and we all crawled into bed, exhausted. "So, what do you guys think?" I asked.
"It's so awesome," my youngest said with a yawn.
"Except for the part when the bus driver abandoned us and we thought we'd have to sleep outside," my oldest added.
I laughed, "But it will make a good story and we'll laugh about it for years to come. All's well that ends well."