School bus

Most of you know that Petite has not had an easy time separating these past eight years, and school has been a constant source of anxiety.  So, it is not surprising that we have spent the past few months hesitantly anticipating the start of the school year.  Familiar country but new school, yet again

Petite has taken the school bus for almost two weeks now! The first day she was so excited the night before.  School is practically walking distance so it's comical that we drive or do the bus.

She's been so excited all summer which I find surprising bc the idea of school bus always made me nervous.  Isn't that where all the unsupervised teasing and bullying goes on? I guess not here.

The bus is a yellow mini bus - or maxi van - depending how you look at it.

It's scheduled to arrive at our house at 8:20 (school starts at 8:30).  Either because it's the first week or just Italian time "start" time is flexible.  Since the bus didn't arrive at ours till 8:35.

Petite was up before 7am,  anxious to be ready.  By 8:15 were in the driveway awaiting the bus. The plan was that Petite would board the bus and, to make her comfortable this first time, Hubbie, Bambina and I would pile into the car and follow the bus to school, since we had to drive our little one anyway.

Petite hopped up and down with excitement.  John, our friend who lives at the stop before ours, would text when the bus picked up his daughter, so we would be ready.

At 8:20 John texted,  "Dense fog. No sign of bus"

Ten minutes latwr we received the next text ,"Child on board, bus headed to you."

I felt like we were on some covert mission. 

I buckled Bambina into her car seat.  She was so so so anxious, protesting that she didn't want to go to school.

The bus rolled up at 8:35 and Petite boarded.  Hubbie and I hopped in the front seat of our car and followed the bus.

I didn't even see Petite disembark and head into school. I hoped that she was feeling ok.  Meanwhile Bambina vomited in the parking lot.  Thee butterflies in her stomach got the best of her. Poor baby.

Two and a half hours later when I pick up Bambina,  she pronounced she hates school and wants to come to work with me.  We drove home and waited for Petite to return by bus. Soon, the bus pulled up and she ran In the front door,

"I love the school bus! Can I take it tomorrow? I love school! We had science and it was sooooo fun and the teacher was so nice!"

Quite a change from school drop off and pick up a year ago.

Is it here vs there? Age? Development? Phase of the moon?

Who knows?

Mom needs to escape

Sitting in The Grove on Chestnut Street in San Francisco, after having just stormed out of my house. I am beyond frustrated and it’s because of my kids.

Everywhere I look moms are sitting with kids, who are NOT pulling on them, nagging at them or having a temper tantrum. Just net to me, a mom has a newborn in the bjorn and her three year old is calmly sitting next to her, sucking on a lollipop. At another table two moms sit sipping coffee, each with a toddler CALMLY sitting in a stroller, looking at an iphone.

Granted, the whole bebe-with-electronics thing kind of creeps me out. The iphone has become the new addiction etc. But honestly, at this point Id be in heaven if mine would sit and play with anything short of live dynamite and just let me have a conversation for more than 30 seconds.

This morning I took my two to the playground and noticed that there wasn’t more than one minute time span that someone (Bebe) wasn’t calling “mamamamama” or “mama look at me”. I mean, CONSTANTLY! Then La Petite starts, I think vying for attention, either calling “mama look at me” or coming over and pulling on me, wanting me to come climb up the play structures with her.

It’s worse when, like today, we met up with my friend , Nadine, and her little one. Nadine sits there calmly while her tot plays near her or wanders away to climb up the slide. Every once in awhile the two year old comes over to check in with mom and Nadine smiles, gives her daughter a big hug and kiss and then the little one wanders off. Meanwhile Bebe is calling “mama look at me!” from the monkey bars and La Petite is pulling on me “mama I need you” so that by the end of a mere 45 minutes I’m about to boil over AND am thinking HOW am I going to get through the rest of the day?

They are constantly questioning, complaining or nagging. There is little if no silent time and when the two of them are alone with me it is constant rivalry for attention, sitting on lap, getting hugs, or just talking. Non stop. I mean NONSTOP talking, demanding, pulling.

So HOW do other moms do it? I have tried all the typical methods of setting limits. I’m not overly indulgent and I am definitely not personally invested in my kids “needing” me. You know those moms who NEED their kids to need them. I don’t! I must be the only mom who feels like “please DON’T need me!” Please need someone else!

To make matters worse, when my husband comes home and I’m desperate to escape the kids, they treat him like he’s the boogey man “no daddy no daddy!” and run away from him. The only way for me to have ANY break is to escape – to physically LEAVE the house. Which is exhausting for me after six years, and discouraging for dear old dad.

Today, when DH came home and was going to take over the kids, they ran from him in terror, I ended up doing bathtime while folding laundry and he is reading a book. He shrugs and says “I cant do anything if they run away from me”. Which I understand – it’s tough for him t take charge if they run from him in terror (which is completely unfounded) but it means I dont get a break, I end up fuming, spitting fire at both husband and kids and storming out.

The Gate to Lucca

In Lucca with the family while husband does a photo shoot. Yes this is a fabulous opportunity to stay in an amazingly luxurious villa. The grounds are incredible. There are two “small” guest houses on the property as well as one ginormous mansion, two swimming pools, acres of manicured lawns. Clearly there is a “staff” though except for one discrete gardner I haven’t seen anyone.

Husband is hired to photograph the retreat that is taking place here and the girls and I are along for the ride. Partly because why not come stay at a lovely villa (that I am not required to clean). Also I knew other kids would be here so it wouldn’t be my usual stint of entertaining kids in a formal, non-kid friendly place. And partly because we’ve already left our Paris apartment and our villa is rented out so in reality, we are homeless this week. So the upside is the gorgeous location and accomodations. The downside is taking care of two kids, one of whom tends to go hysterical in new situations (as well as when she is tired, hungry, irritable, bored or just plain in a bad mood). But generally, having an almost six year old fly into an unpredicted instant rage/hysteria/meltdown as if someone had just poked a red hot pole up her butt, is pretty debilitating, especially when I have the almost three year old hanging on me as well.

So after two days, we were running low on food and it was time I schlepped the kids off the grounds in search of food. No small feat with a manual drive car where the gear shift sticks. I’m used to driving in Italy, on tiny roads, but Im not terrific at navigating and what I really dread is dragging two kids around when one is having a meltdown and screaming “carry me”. I was told that “town” is two minutes away, and there must be a local general store. At least enough to buy basica supplies.

So after a viewing of “The Aristocats” (I was thrilled to find children’s dvds, as I think I will shoot myself if I have to watch “Max and Ruby” or “Barbie Mermaid” one more time) I gathered the kids and piled into the car (no easy feat with La Petite now thinking every time we get in the car it’s a game of “No I wont get into my car seat”.

We drive down the narrow gravel road to the electric gate. Apparently Bebe had gotten used to pushing to button to open the gate with husband. Two of the other guests are standing waiting to get out. Maybe they don’t know where the button is? Bebe climbs over me, losing both boots in the process, pushes the button and nothing happens. She climbs back in, again losing both shoes, guests staring at me as usual. I get out, push button. Nothing. Push longer. Nothing.

I'm thinking ok I'm not an idiot. The button says OPEN. It must open….the guests give up and walk back up the drive. I push again. Nothing. Bebe starts to panic. I tell her to calm down. I'm singing some stupid song to calm them. i realize I should give up this expedition but also think shit. How am I going to get the car back up the narrow drive? I can't back it up and manage that hair pin turn backwards.

Then I remember that the washer and dryer had turned off when we left the house. I hadn’t stopped to investigate in my mission to get the kids out the door and into the car. Maybe a fuse blew. Oy. Perhaps the same fuse fuels the gate. Ok so I have to check the fuse box. No way will my girls be willing to hang out in the car while I hike back up the road andIi really don't want to carry them up. Because I KNOW they won't walk (source of daily meltdowns thus far – walking to and from the pool. I am so on the verge of being one of those parents who gives the “when I was little I had to walk ten miles to school. Barefoot. In the snow. Which in fact couldn’t be further from the truth since my mom drove us to school and really I lived about 5 blocks. I know. Pathetic. SLIGHTLY overprotective mom).

I glance back at the road and realize our little drive splits in two. I can back up into the second drive and somehow manage an impossible hairpin turn in our SUV and drive forwards up the road to check the fuse box.

I manage to do this and get us back up to the house. I check the fuse box and flip the only switch that is off. The washing machine turns on. Ah ha! I must have fixed it.!!Hey girls! Mama solved the mystery! Lets go! I make it a game "we solved the mystery of the gate button! lets go!"

This time I let them both ride in the passenger seat down the private drive. Isabelle is used to doing this at home and frankly I cant deal with another kid meltdown right now.

OK push the OPEN button for the gate. Nothing happens. I push again. Nothing. Are you kidding me????

Maybe it would work from the other side? There is a key pad on the other side and I know Clay got in using the code. The gate is about ten feet high with wire mesh both sides s there isno room to slip through. I'm used to slipping through the gate at mu mother’s house in California which is mostly meant to deter deer from getting in and eating her garden. This gate is sealed tight. Clearly the owners are worried about burglars.. La Petite could not even fit through. Damn it.

Now I am intent on getting us out. Mostly because I have 5.5 hours to kill before and this was going to be one of our "activities". I hook a foot into the mesh gate and pull myself up. Bebe, the ever good girl panics "No Mama! You're not supposed to!" I'm assuring her "I'm ok I'm ok" while I'm also thinking “shit I’m a lot heavier than I used to be and haven't done anything like this in awhile”.

I'm pretty sure that the gate will open from this side so I press the code and…. nothing. I press again. NOTHING! Dammit are you KIDDING ME?

Meanwhile I'm e-mailing husband on my phone. He is off photographing an all day bus trip to tour a local pasta factory and wheat field. Not his idea of a fabulous time. Of course I’m not able to use the phone with either French nor Italian cards. I must be out of minutes. So I’m frantically emailing husband while climbing over the gate and reassuring the girls that all is ok.

He writes back "It’s the blue buttons"
“I know its the blue button! I've pushed it twice and driven back and forth to the house”.
“Well its the blue button I don't know what to tell you.”

Jeez i KNOW I'm not an idiot even though I seem to play one in real life…

Now I have to somehow heave myself BACK over the fence, back the car up and drive BACK up to the house. where we find one of the guests . I know he drove out of the gate yesterday so I ask him in faulty Italian. He says push the button. Oy. I've done that twice.

He is so nice, he walks down the drive to open the gate. Pile the girls BACK into the car - both in the front seat just to minimized the time and distress of forcing them into carseats. He pushes the button and voila it opens. OF COURSE I feel like a frustrated idiot. As well as the fact that I was screaming this morning at the kids because La Petite was whining for me to carry her, refusing to walk. I had to trek the football field plus distance up to the pool to take Bebe swimming, carrying La Petite and carrying the bag of swimsuits, towels, toys and bottle (she is like an alcoholic with that milk bottle) as well as drag the giant inflatable dolphin that we have acquired as a pet.

It’s like making a trip to the beach just to go to the damn pool. Meanwhile there is a little pool JUST OUTSIDE THE DOOR TO OUR GUESTHOUSE but it’s not heated.

Once out of the gate, I drove UP the hill instead of down, until I realized that we were NOT getting to the town supposedly two minutes away. Maneuvering narrow hilly roads, while trying to email husb, torn between total frustration and knowing I shouldn't email him because he is on a job.

Finally I find a spot to turn around and head down to "town" which is only two minutes from the house after all. We pull into the obvious parking lot. Our mission is to find food since we have nothing except pasta for the kiddos. Husband was excited that there is a "market" today. Well, i can tell in about thirty seconds the "market" is mostly cheap purses and crappy clothes. It's not exactly "local produce" market. I also immediately note the broken down playground - which the girls are excited to find, until we realize the swings have been taken down and the slide is broken. I convince them to push onward to find a cafe. We find one cafe which serves coffee and packaged ice creams. No way am I buying them packaged ice cream cones in land of gelato!!! I spy a sign across the street - an empty cafe that isn't obviously open. Turns out it IS open and serves gelato. And nothing else. so I can throw the idea of "lunch" out the window. I get them both a gelato – La Petite takes one lick and discards it. Bebe eats hers. I notice the scoops are about half the size of those in Piemonte and Liguria. And the town has an unfriendly feeling. I see a swastika spray painted near the parking lot and graffiti on the wall. the shop owners aren't exactly mean, but they're not friendly. Feeling victorious that we at least made it to town and tying not to feel dispirited for not having scored any food, I reward the girls by letting them choose a “prize” at the local newsstand.

We walk in, the place is so smoky I can barely breathe. Each girl chooses a Barbie doll (the only toys available and have probably been here for several years) and we skaddadle. Tomorrow maybe La Petite and I will head back down for food. Assuming we can get out of the gate.