Earlier in the year, when I suggested to my brother that we may come back to Canada for Christmas, he said: Do what you gotta do bro, but I wouldn’t be mad about coming back to Rome for another Christmas!
Rome is not a hard sell at any time of year but during Christmas it really sparkles. We welcomed my mom and brother for their second Christmas here and my mom’s third visit since our arrival.
After a day or two shedding as much jet lag as possible, we visited the temporary Christmas World mini-theme park in Villa Borghese, walked to the Christmas market at Piazza Navona and generally hung out with a sick Aleksander and played with all the toys.
My mom thankfully brought all the ingredients and know-how required to pull off another Polish Christmas meal, despite the challenges here in Italy. Aleksander welcomed his gift haul of sports gear and cars from Santa and, overall, everyone had enough time decompressing from all the concerns of the rest of the year.
Christmas Day was a real beauty and we spent some time at the playground at nearby Villa Ada and although we didn’t quite make it to the Vatican as we did last year, we shared a peaceful and wonderful family oriented afternoon and evening.
Having finally recovered from Aleksander’s week-long fever, we headed to Milan on Boxing Day for a short stay. Returning from Milan, with only two nights left in mom and Paul’s visit, we relaxed and squeezed in one more Christmas lights display at Rome’s Orto Botanico.
Closing this year off with family nearby was a real blessing. We’re always grateful to live in Rome, but maybe never more than when we’re able to share our life here with our closest friends and family. Aleksander is finally at an age where he can interact independently, form his own little relationships and make memories with the people he’s around. It was heartwarming to see nonna and zio learning about Aleksander’s tender, warm and engaging personality.
It’s always hard to say goodbye but this time it was particularly tough knowing that the next visit won’t be for a few months at the earliest. It’s one of the big trade offs of living overseas, the distance from loved ones.
The New Year is just around the corner and for us, big pending news about where our next posting will be post-summer 2023. It’s not something we’ve dwelled on particularly much but a reality that we’ll see be facing down. Upwards and onwards either way!
Yesterday we celebrated Aleksander’s second birthday, with balls, balloons and even a half-cone of gelato, more or less the priority order of things he loves in his life. Compared to his first birthday, this year he kinda got it. Maybe not the full birthday concept, but at least the fact that it was a special day for him, perhaps even because of him. We sent him to daycare with party hats, loot bags and a chocolate sprinkle cake, and hoped he mumbled under his breath, when the big moment came: Happy Birthday TO ME!
This second year was a continuation, an advancement, and an even further and deeper acknowledgement of the spectrum of joy and challenges of family life and parenthood. If the first year of parenting is a universal reorientation of lifestyle, life priorities and life goals, the second is a leaning into the commitment that those things represent, and a creeping realization of how much of the journey lies ahead.
Two years of moments, hours, weeks, held together by a thread of joy, exhaustion, love, focus, patience, impatience, development (for all parties), effort, thankfulness, humility, overwhelmedness, laughter, tears, diapers, walks, parks, naps, hurried meals, Tuscan train windows, coughs, colds, fevers, beach days, pyjama snuggles, and a billion other things. Parenthood is an absolute fullness of life, in almost all the conceivable ways.
Aleksander took his first steps just a few days after we returned from his birthday trip to Dubai last year. (He subsequently starting kicking balls at pretty much the same time – an activity that he obsessed over for the entirety of the year). And so this year was one of movement, dynamism, chasing him around and holding his hand. Dalia thrived in the green winter parks of Rome with him – swings, slides, kids, balls. They started new routines together, explored and solidified new skills. By the Spring, our budding toddler was proving to be quite the handful for a full-time mommy so we decided to enroll him into daycare.
Thankfully, Italian daycares are supremely civilized environments. Children sit patiently waiting for their three course lunches while parents fret about absconding from their duties. The ‘asilo’ had a several week integration period and Aleksander settled right in, barely turning back to say goodbye by the end of his first week and making it to snack, lunch and nap sessions with record speed. While freeing up Dalia’s time, we also counted seven bouts of sickness after he started his daycare socialization journey. Feverish infant nights in foreign countries are a particular kind of unpleasantness, especially repeated every other week for the better part of four months. But alas, we all survived and hopefully he started to get and defeat some of the microbugs that will help him better survive in this viral planet in future.
As his time at daycare went on, Aleksander’s communication improved too. Sticking with ‘no!’ for a few months, but also humming Frere Jacques and dancing to the Wheels on the Bus. He’s just started saying yes in the last few weeks and is beginning to surprise us with the most adorable Italian phrases (mama mia, andiam-lo, ga-zye) and greeting most passerbys with an audible ciao! on the streets.
We’re often overwhelmed by love for his cuteness, by longing for him when we’re apart. We proudly smile when he shows his resolute kindness to other children in the playground. And despite our baseline disequilibrium much of the time, are starting to think whether the time might not be right to consider adding a sibling to Aleksander’s life. He would make such a great big brother and we could all expand our world, the world, that much more with this crazy thing called love.
Although I was born in Poland, 40 years after my family emigrated, close relatives still there are becoming more and more rare. My mom has a branch of the family, from her stepsisters, who are the main remaining contacts. And it’s exactly one of my cousins on that side who invited us for a Polish wedding on a Thursday in late June. How could you say no?!
Even by our hectic travel standards, this was a quick turnaround, not quite two weeks after we returned from the South of France. Unfortunately, it was also our first ever two leg flight with Aleksander and the stopover in the otherwise lovely Munich airport, did really add quite a bit of pressure to our day’s travels.
We arrived in Krakow in the evening, renegotiated a car rental as the agency had cancelled our reservation and headed into the worst hail storm of our lives. Aleksander wailed as the hail hit our car roof and windshield as though weather grenades were being launched. Fortunately, it didn’t last forever and we eventually made it to our hotel in Rybnik under warm clear skies. (The worst part of the trip was out of the way).
I’ve written this elsewhere and my wife always laughs, but some kind of ethereal strange calm comes over me whenever I cross the border into Poland, a country I’ve lived in only for the first two years of my life. Suddenly I’m unhurried, largely unstressed and feel like life is simpler than it otherwise feels. I felt like this strolling around this small city in the morning, looking into bakeries and periogi making shops as we prepared to leave for the wedding.
Even though we were in a somewhat rural environment, our Thursday wedding still required some driving, to the bride’s home town. Somehow or other, I’ve never actually been to a Polish wedding and despite the excessive Rome-like heat, the ceremony was elegant and wondrous, as most weddings are.
Next stop was the reception hall some 30 minutes away. After the previous day’s extended travel, our appetites were primed for whatever non-pizza or pasta dishes were on offer. We were seated by shortly after 3pm and the rounds of food, drink and dancing (apparently) did not stop for the next 12 hours.
The next morning was similar to most post-wedding mornings in foreign countries, starting too early and with the need for excess coffee. We briefly met the wedding party again for a brief lunch (because Polish weddings are a standard of two days!) and then turned the GPS in the direction of Krakow. Daddy getting driving duty while the back seat passengers recharged.
Dalia and I had been to Krakow together in late 2019 from Vienna but this was our first visit in the summer and might I add, post-covid summer. The city was an absolute revelation.
The summertime vibes were just electric. People happy to outside in the main square, happy to be travelling, eating, drinking, meeting strangers, all without masks. Aleksander chased birds and horses, we ate more and more, and just took in the lively evening atmosphere.
The next day, more or less recovered from the wedding exhaustion, we visited the Wawel Castle, maybe Kraków’s most notable tourist site. Its location allowed for wonderful views and an opportunity for Aleksander to run around to his heart’s content.
We finished our visit by meandering around the Jewish quarter, Kazimierz, with its variety of bars, restaurants, markets, shops and history. Again, we reflected, planned, reminisced and did all those wonderful things that travel allows, with a little shift in perspective from normal life.
Our quick trip had a great balance of family time, touristy exploration, remembering old memories and making some new. We fell in love with Krakow in summer in a way we never quite did in the fall or winter and hope to find another excuse to get there before too long. Perhaps another Thursday wedding, who knows!
The South of France is a part of the world that we’ve been fortunate enough to visit a few times over the years and it always seems to call us back after some time away. As we were considering summer vacation spots from Rome, it was the destination that popped the most. So we planned a weeklong trip, with some new discoveries and some visits of old favourites, as well as a few days spent with some grad school friends from our time in Brussels.
We landed in Nice, headed to our hotel in Beaulieu Sur Mer but as we were too early to check in on Saturday morning, we almost immediately turned our sights to Monaco. It’s a city that has a special place both in our hearts and in our relationship and always makes for an interesting few hours – of indulgence, of nostalgia, of possibility.
We took an important photo (find blog post), ate some great hamburgers, visited the old cliff top castle and let Aleksander play in a park on what’s probably the most expensive real estate he’s ever walked on!
We returned to our hotel home base, oriented ourselves and sketched out the next few days. Beaulieu sur Mer (which quite accurately translates as beautiful place on the sea) was a relatively quiet town between Nice and Monaco and notably, at the foot of the St. Jean Cap Ferrat, a magical Cape that made for perfect sea side walks and the type of gorgeous views that make this part of the world what it is.
We quickly pivoted all previously made retirement plans and decided that St. Jean Cap Ferrat is for us (if the heavens allow!). It’s such a stunning, peaceful and scenic pied a terre on the planet that it would probably convince any passerby to change their life plans to stay at almost all costs.
As this was our third visit to this part of the Cote D’Azur, we were able to get to some portions of the coast that we haven’t been able to make it to before. One of the main targets was Eze, famous, charming and difficult to get to hilltop village.
The views were absolutely incredible but the crowded bus ride up and completely fool-hardy hike down (with baby and stroller in hand) made for some moments of pause. Add to that, peak June heat and loads of people in Eze’s very, very narrow streets and we had our work cut out for us. We’re glad we finally got up there but probably won’t be returning until the kids are teens at least!
The next day was spent split between one of the world’s most charming beaches at Villefranche sur Mer and an evening visit to the hub city of Nice.
If you’re ever in the South of France and need a dreamy beach day, go to Villefranche, I can’t really say more than that, you won’t regret it.
Nice is a city that we go back and forth on. Dalia is largely a fan and I just as often am happy to avoid it. Somehow this time though, the city spoke to me in a new way and I found it’s beachside, streets and views supremely charming and inviting. Maybe the best feature of Nice, and certainly for us at Aleksander’s age, is the great fountain playground where kids lose their minds in glee while parents try to capture every moment.
We wrapped up our time in Nice and started the second half of our week heading to St. Raphael to meet some friends for a few days. Every time we’re in the Cote D’Azur we always try to add a new city or two to the visit to continue the exploration. St. Raphael was a logical choice to meet our friends who were staying in Hyeres, closer to Toulon.
St. Raphael felt like the ideal retirement town on the coast – full of non-descript apartment blocks, lengthy wide beaches and patios for days. We enjoyed a few lazy days on the beaches and continued our sanding, sunning and summering.
One of my completely inexplicable life goals is to visit St. Tropez, mostly based on the reputation the town created in my mind based on Puff Daddy music videos from the 1990s. In fact, we looked into staying a couple nights on this trip but the prices were outrageously high for public service standards so we decided on a day trip instead.
The island is an easy ferry ride from St. Raphael so we strapped in the kids and went yacht hunting!
We walked, explored, caught up and lunched. The yachts really are impressive as they were preparing for some fancy race or other. Most only have their crews on board, signalling the absurd kind of money that affords a fancy yacht and then the lack of time to actually ever visit it.
The highlight of the day was watching a series of games of pétanque (which seemed super apropos) and Aleksander riding a merry-go-round, his obsession of the moment. Otherwise, we found the town overrated and overpriced, as one does!
We were happy to return to St. Raphael and our more modest comforts. Walks, swims and balcony views!
As our week was starting to approach its end, we parted ways with our pals and headed to Juan-les-Pins, our final French destination before returning home. We had visited Juan-les-Pins on our honeymoon and it had made a strong enough impression that we decided to return.
Again, we strolled, visited nearby Antibes and maxed out some more beach time. Aleksander tried out some of the local merry-go-rounds and we window shopped and dined al fresco. We also made a point of going back one more time to the grand splash pad of Nice for one more frolic.
Our week was absolutely full! With beauty, with thankfulness, with rest, discovery and family memory-making. This region of the world has quite accidentally become a recurring part of our relationship’s story and, obviously, we don’t mind at all. It also speaks to the wonderful options available from Rome – nevermind all that Italy has to offer – France, Portugal, Croatia, Spain, Greece are all short flights away. And that’s not even to mention Tunisia, Cyprus, Malta, etc.
We returned home happy and bronzed. Ready for the summer ahead, and more urgently, a family wedding in Poland in less than two weeks! Mama mia!!
After almost exactly 18 months of practically constant care for our beautiful Aleksander and after about a month of daycare integration for our little guy, mommy has rejoined the work force. Obviously there are many emotions and energies wrapped up in this transition but we managed to sneak in a Friday afternoon drink after Dalia’s first week back in the office, to discuss, celebrate and reflect.
Parenting is a constantly evolving, juggling act of a journey! If only we all knew before it began.
Dad In The World 