Lesser-known monuments

   

**Part 3 of 3: Germany

We didn't see "sights" in Germany; it was mainly family and friends. We ate that wonderful German bread for breakfast and had cake in the afternoons. Nils sat and played with his stacking cups on a series of living room floors. He squirmed happily in a series of arms. It was lovely and slow-paced. There were a few side trips though, to monuments that probably aren't on the radar of your average tourist:

First, to Hermannsdenkmal (Hermann's Monument). It commemorates a victory of the Germanic tribes against the Romans, and when you climb to the top you can see the surrounding countryside for miles and miles. It was beautiful.

Nils was a fan. He was out of his mind with happiness the entire time we were there, actually. It was adorable - he was shrieking and kicking his legs for a good hour straight.

It tired him out eventually.

Then there was Muenster, the monument to Oliver's young adult years. Oliver went to school and lived out his 20s here, and he was genuinely excited to bring Nils to see the streets he biked down when his grown-up life was just beginning.

And going back even further, Oliver was anxious to bring Nils to his first childhood home. The house itself was torn down some years ago - it's now a gas station/car wash. Hallowed ground.

And finally, a monument (" ") made specifically for Nils - it felt like it, anyhow. It was like he had met his soulemate. We literally had to pry his little hands off the steering wheel when it was time to go.

Rome slowly

**Part 2 of 3  of our vacation: Rome
    

Rome was tricky. We couldn't lounge in the mornings like we did in Tuscany. We could come home early, but if we were going to get anything out of Rome we had to be out in it during the day. I've got to be honest; if Nils wasn't so easygoing it wouldn't have worked.

Lucky for us he is easygoing, so out we went. There was something for everyone. The Colosseum for me:

 The Vatican for Oliver:

And water bottles for Nils. Seriously, he can play with one of those for a half an hour.

It was a slower, less direct style of sightseeing. There were certain things we couldn't do (museums), and the things we did do were done more slowly. Yes, for example, there was an ancient structure; enormous and beautiful and you could practically still hear gladiators waiting beneath the arena... but within that structure there was a thin wire to hang on to! A wire! We needed to devote some time to this.

And so it was, a push and pull. We pushed Nils a bit sometimes, taking advantage of his flexibility and sunny disposition to cover a bit more territory, see a bit more of the city. He pulled us back in turn, reminding us in his own sweet way that we had to slow it down a bit:

On our last morning in the city we decided to hit up one last place. The Terma Caracalla, a complex of thermal baths built during the Roman Empire. It was beautiful and deserted, and we wandered at our leisure. 

 I scampered around, taking photos. Oliver sat with a finger on his lips and took it all in, wordless. Nils found another thin, wire-like structure to hang on to:

Something for everyone.
   

Caffe, gelato, vino (Tuscany with a baby)

**Part 1 of 3. I feel like writing about each section of our trip on its own. First: Tuscany  

From the get go, we knew this trip would be different. We'd be doing Tuscany with friends, for one thing. Friends with their own little one in tow. We'd have a home base too, instead of packing up the bags and moving on every couple of days. More than anything else though, the baby would make it different. How much more limited would we be? Could he handle everything? What would our days look like? It's hard to imagine now that we ever had concerns; everything turned out beautifully.

Tuscany, for us, meant mornings at the villa. Lingering over the breakfast we ate outside. Puttering around the olive groves and country roads while the babies took their morning naps. (Taking turns puttering, of course. I feel compelled to let you know that the babies were not abandoned as they slept) Once the babies woke up, we sometimes made the 30-minute walk to Monte San Savino, the hill town we could see out our windows.

 Other days we got into our cars and made our way to other hill towns. Once in those towns, two things were inevitable: coffee and ice cream.

The coffee and ice cream made it all work. Each gave you a place to sit outside, a place to watch everyone pass by. You could linger over your cappuccino while your little babe sat on your lap, staring in wonder at the old woman making faces at him from the next table. Once it was time to move on from the coffee place you could aimlessly wander the streets, snapping photos and pausing to look into shop windows, until you stumbled upon a gelateria. Who wants gelato? (Everyone does.) The adults could sit and blend into the stone walls again, stopping to become a part of the town for a bit instead of simply passing through it. The babes could stretch their little legs on stone streets and rocking horses/moose.

 Once back to our home base, there was usually time for a dip in the pool before dinner. Dinner, just like breakfast, was eaten outside and lingered over. It also included my favorite detail from the giant fresco that was our week: homemade wine. Our landlord's own, made from the grapes we walked past each day. One partner sat and sipped near the lemon and fig trees while the other shushed the baby to sleep in the house. The little ones asleep, we all poured ourselves more glasses. We talked about the years to come. We watched the lights go on in nearby Monte San Savino. It was heaven.

(Main piazza, Montepulciano. Bonus points if you can spot Oliver and Nils)

 (The Duomo, Orvieto... technically Umbria, not Tuscany)

  

Big weeks

  

We're off!

A couple weeks in Europe await - first Tuscany, then Rome, then Germany. We're renting a house with friends, sightseeing just the three of us, and taking Nils to meet the other half of his family. 

Big weeks, these will be. Nils will use his passport for the first time. Oliver will get to - for days and days on end - spend more than 45 minutes in the morning with his son. I'll get to see Italy. We will drink wine (some of us, anyhow), take day trips, lounge with family, and meet our future wives (one of us, anyhow ;) ).

Scenes from a birthday

Actual birthday boy not pictured. It was a low-key but lovely celebration, and halfway through it we realized it was Oliver's first birthday spent in New York. We were in Germany last year, trapped in Peru the year before, and camping in Canada the year before that. This year's simple gifts, dinner at Fornino, handmade card and homemade cheesecake were technically no match for meeting a brand-new baby (last year), dipping our feet in Lima's Pacific (two years ago), and canoeing to an island campsite (three years ago)... but it felt every bit as fun. Hm. Wonder what it is that made a relatively mundane birthday so good...

The best part of our apartment

 

Our apartment is quirky. We love it, but it probably isn't everyone's cup of tea. The ceilings are low (cheaper to heat! Cozy and treehouse-like!). It's at the very top of our 5-story walkup (the stairs keep us so fit!). Etc. etc. Who cares about these things - it has a skylight.

 A skylight! A peek at the sky from our living room! An extra breeze blowing in when open windows don't cut it. More light pouring into our already-sunny home. Sometimes when it rains I lay on the floor beneath the skylight and watch the rain drops hit. You can hear them pattering; it's like being in a cabin or a tent. It always reminds me of that magical Saturday I sat on the floor in the young adult section of my local library. I was trying to figure out which Encyclopedia Brown books I hadn't read yet when it started to rain. I was right beneath the skylight and the noise was deafening. Mesmerizing too. It made you glad to be inside, but also tempted you to run outside and get soaking wet.

  

Other good things in our apartment:

 The "big blue thing" we purchased in the neighborhood a couple months ago. A million drawers hide a million pencils, knitting needles, rolls of tape, cords, etc. I hugged it the day we brought it home. No joke.

The lovely way our dining stuff came together. Quick and easy re-upholstering of chairs, quick and easy sewing of table runner... I'm loving it.

A bookshelf that also creates a little hallway in front of the bathroom (can you see the door behind there?) and hides a bunch of important but unsightly stuff (love you, baskets!)

The best part of the park

  

One of the best things about living where we live is the park. Prospect Park, Brooklyn's answer to Central Park. There's a bit of rivalry even, with Brooklynites turning their noses up at that bigger, more famous Manhattan cousin. Sniff. That was just Olmstead's first attempt. Our park was his masterpiece.

We live a scant block and a half from that masterpiece, and spend time in it whenever we can. Oliver runs there in the mornings, we picnic there on the occasional summer evening. Nils and I meet up with other moms and babies there and sprawl out in the grass. It's one of our favorite places, and within the park itself is my favorite of favorites: the woods.

That's what I call them, anyhow. They probably have a more official name. No matter. You come into the woods from the relentlessly sunny lawn and the temperature drops 5 degrees. Giant trees keep the sun to a filtered minimum. Paths diverge here and there. There are never more than a handful of people in the woods, and you can be totally alone for minutes at a time. You can hear birds and running water. You cannot hear the city. The trees are enormous.

I walk more slowly in the woods. I push Nils in his stroller and hope he's seeing all the things I'm seeing. I make a mental note: go hiking soon! When I take a peek at him he is, inevitably, relaxed.

We do a lot of loitering in the woods. I walk back and forth slooowly, and loop around multiple times. I take Nils out of the stroller from time to time and hold him, letting him look around from a different elevation. There is so much to see!

Ponds!

Waterfalls! Gorgeous peacefulness everywhere you turn! Nils, are you taking this all in?

Oh, right. Still relaxed.