Shit Is Hard With a Baby

Well, we made it back to the States...but I am sure most of you know that already.  Things have been crazy since we touched down and I still don't feel like we've had a chance to relax.  And unfortunately, things don't look like they will be slowing down anytime soon.  Plus, shit is hard with a baby.  Having Alessia attached to me my boob makes typing impossible. 

Our flight home was great. The day before leaving we received an email saying our flight was overbooked, but if we were willing to take another flight with an additional leg, they would upgrade us to first class.  For us, the extra 45 minute flight and 1 hour layover was worth it to be able to sit in first class for our 9 hour flight.

Overall, Alessia was perfect on the flights with the exception of shitting herself three times.  One time was even before we made it to the airport.  She had shit up her front, back, and side.  Then on our second flight, right after we changed her, she shit up her back again.  We thought we would be okay for the last flight and had our fingers crossed since we were now out of clean clothes, but her wet fart turned into a disaster as we were boarding our last flight from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh.  Since we were out of clothes, we had to put our poor girl in dirty clothes that she had worn the day before.

It took me 31 years to fly first class.

We only had a few bags. Thank you to the baggage guy for photo-bombing our picture.

Since flying into Pittsburgh less than a month ago, we have had party after party  A party for Mother's Day, a Baby Shower, a Baptism, a Baptism party, a graduation party, and a birthday party.  Alessia has made her rounds and met a vast majority of her family in a short amount of time.  She also managed to pick up a cold from someone, but that is going to happen.

Celebrating Mother's Day, Alessia's first trip to Pittsburgh, and the birth of Briggs.  

Alessia's AMAZING baby shower...or "Sip and See"

Getting baptized was hard work.  

Alessia loves her cousins already.

I know I have been a HUGE slacker with the blogging, but I promise I will get better once things slow done.  And hopefully, that is sooner rather than later.  I have tons of topics to blog about and really hope to be able to tell people what our plans are for the next season (once we figure them ourselves).

And We Are Packing!

Well, it is that time again.  Time to pack up all our belongings and head back to the US for the summer.  I started purging things a few weeks ago hoping that I could just throw the rest of our stuff in bags, but the OCD in me won't allow that to happen.  I've been packing a bag a day for the last three days, but that isn't going to cut it now.  I have three more to get done in the next 40 or so hours (plus two carry-ons) and Kevin still needs to pack his two hockey bags.  And after packing comes the cleaning, which is not going to be up to my normal standards.  I'll blame it on Alessia.   

Packing up and preparing to leave here has left me pretty sad.  I've become so attached to this place the past two years and it makes me upset to think we might not be coming back.  In actuality, Vipiteno is more home to me than anywhere in the States.  I know the US is our motherland, but it is hard to call it home when we have only lived there sporadically over the last five years. 

As for next year, things are still up in the air.  I'm pretty sure Kevin has become frustrated with me since I change my mind on what I want on a daily and sometimes hourly basis.  One minute I want to go back to work; the next minute I want to stay at home with Alessia.  One minute I want to settle somewhere and get a house; the next minute I want to continue to travel the world.  I know it sounds crazy, but even I don't know what I want.  I guess time will tell.

For now, I am getting excited to see everyone back in the States and I know they are all looking forward to meeting Alessia.  Regardless of where we end up next season, I know this summer will be amazing.  There's no confusion there. 

Cheese Arm

The other day, the head coach of the hockey team here went to the hospital to get his arm checked out.  He had a small sore on his elbow that had become swollen so he assumed it probably had gotten infected.   

The hospital here put his arm in a cast...a full cast...and told him to rest for the next two weeks.  He was instructed to not work or do any kind of labor.  In Italy, everything is slightly blown out of proportion.  You have a fever...take a week off.  You broke your arm...don't lift anything for a year.  You had a baby...stay in the hospital for five days.  

Full arm cast for a sore on the elbow. 

If this had happened in the States (I'm making an educated guess here), they would have probably cleaned the wound, put a bandage on it, and gave him some antibiotics for the infection.  Then, he would have gone right back to work.  In the States, drugs are always the answer.  You have a headache...take these pills.  You have a sore throat...take these pills.  You've been feeling sad lately...take these pills.  

Which way is better?  It's up for debate.  But according to the GM's wife, neither.  She took matters into her own hands when she saw him. 

She cut the cast off, threw some Topfen cheese on a paper towel, put the paper towel on the wound, and wrapped it.  Apparently, the cheese draws out the toxins and bacteria.  She instructed him to continue doing this for a couple of days.  Well, sure enough, the next day it already looked better and within a few days, it was completely healed.

Of course, this kind of medicine is right up my alley.  I love home remedies!  I did some Googling (yes, I love to Google everything) and came across an article about Lindsey Vonn putting Topfen cheese on a bruised shin a few years ago to help with the swelling.

It fights infections, reducing swelling, and tastes great!  (source)

Italy vs. USA

It seems like everyday I find another difference between Italy and the US. I don't go looking for them; I usually just stumble upon them. This past Saturday, Kevin and I were walking around the town center and stopped in Kevin's favorite butcher. We weren't buying anything; we were just looking around, checking out what people were buying, and eating the free samples. When we were leaving, an older woman (in her 60's) was walking out in front of us. She walked over to her bike, placed her purchase in her basket, and then hopped on. But what made this all shocking was the fact that she was wearing a dress, tights, and 3-inch heels. I can say that is something that is not a regular occurrence in the States.

Here, people always look presentable. In the States, people are slobs (me included). We wear sweatpants to the grocery store and put ball caps on over our unwashed hair. Last year in Fort Wayne, I had no problem getting up, grabbing my keys, and going grocery shopping in the same thing I wore to bed. Here, I feel like I would be stoned if I went to pick up a loaf of bread in that get-up. Tennis shoes are also nonexistent in Italy, except at the gym. People don't wear them out and about in their daily lives. If you see someone out in their ASICS, there is a good chance that they are from North America. I love that in Italy, everyone is dressed to impress.

Italy and the US also differ in their lunch breaks. Here in Italy, people leave work, go home, have a HUGE meal with their family, and then take a nap. In the States, you are lucky if you even get an hour to find something to eat, use the bathroom, and get back to work. When Kevin has a work lunch, I know he will be gone for at least two hours. It is also no big deal if you have a wine or beer with your lunch, even if you are going back to work. In the States, you would be fired if you came back from lunch with alcohol on your breath...no questions asked.

In our town of 6,000 there is not a fast food place in sight. The nearest McDonald's in located in Innsbruck. Their idea of fast food is going to the grocery store and having the deli make you a sandwich or grabbing a panini at a cafe.

Another difference is the coffee. In the States, if you are in need of a pick-me-up, you hit your local Starbucks and get a coffee the size of your head. Here, the coffee (even the bigger ones) are small. And I have yet to see a place that has take-away coffee.

You should have gotten the big one.
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