The Lives and Loves of the Young

Well, Spring has arrived in Rome. While it has been a little muggy, the weather has really been quite beautiful for the better part of two weeks. And as they say....In Spring a young man's (woman's) fancy turns to love.

Katie is quite infatuated with a little boy in her class, Pablo. He is Spanish, or at least part Spanish and Katie thinks he is quite nice. She once told me that when he looks at her he has a twinkle in his eye - awwwwwwww! Yesterday, however, on the way home from riding lessons, she told me about a different boy in her class who loves her, at least according to her. She told me his name and then went on to say that he is small. I told her it doesn't matter how tall someone is, to which she retorted, "But I can pick him up." Apparently the measure for possible loves is the inability to lift them. I am quite sure that I can't pick Chris up, so perhaps she is on to something. She also told me that she wishes she were a boy. When I inquired why, she responded, "I don't want to birth." After being reassured that she did not have to have babies if she did not want, she told me that she wished boys had the babies. Ahhhh, now I am certain she is on to something. She will grow up into a fine woman.

Maddie is not quite to the point where she loves boys, but she has adorations all her own. We have a friend from the States who is currently visiting Italy. We all went to the Vatican Museums and Sistine Chapel on Tuesday, followed by lunch at an outdoor cafe. Maddie is a big fan of pizza Margherita (cheese pizza) and gelato. She managed to have both at the same time on this particular day. She was a happy little girl.

Jameson may not have a real love per se, but he has found something to detest. He hates the pack 'n play. He spends quite a bit of time in it because I can't let him crawl all around the apartment, due to the marble floors. Well, he has decided that it is not okay to not be on the floor playing with blocks or little people or the train - ALL THE TIME. I am happy to do so, I just can't do it all the time. So begin the years when the kids are mad at mom.