{not italy, but i haven’t gotten to those photos yet}

Italians LOVE babies.  My baby sister was just a wee one when we lived in Italy, and I vaguely remember that too.  Her blonde fuzzy head causing them fits of hysterical adoration.  And that is what it is.  hysterical adoration.  the women lose it.  most men do too.  “ooooooooo picciriddu” “piccccccolllllo” “bambino!!!” “BELLISSIMO!!!!!!”  They are full on hand on the heart, and with all the sincerity of the world.  it is like they have experienced love at first sight. errr baby.   I had to leave tuck with babysitters for a morning meeting, but he cried for his mama, and they got me out of the meeting.  {who needs meetings anyway!}  And then I saw him literally hovered around by 8 Italians.  Even the maid.  They were all rallying behind him, trying to comfort him.  An italian man told me quite bluntly “you should NEVER be apart from your son”.  haha.  That same maid came to check on him throughout our stay.  She’d knock on the door and just ask for a glimpse!  several times.  Now that he’s 6 months old I’m way less of a weirdo about people touching him.  I think Italy helped me break myself of that.  Though in the states, it’s mostly just, well, how do I put it … weirdos that want to touch your baby.  But Italians, they seriously can’t help themselves.  They must touch a baby.  His feet, his face, his hands.  And you just can’t help but smile.  How can a country be this kind?  this in touch with their feelings?  It’s beautiful.

Each time we boarded our italian plane filled with Italians, it was like one big party.  Where Tuck was the guest of honor.  There were no shortage of peekaboo from strangers and giggles on both ends.  One flight in particular the Italian man who was in his mid twenties was our seatmate.  we consider him the jackpot of seatmates.  Typically if you get on a plane, and you are a twenty something american guy, you’re probably not all too keen to sit by a couple with a six month old.  But not him!  It was so cute, I had to take a little video.  He played like that for much of the flight.  But the thing that made my heart swell was this little girl across our aisle.  She was flying alone for the first time to meet some family.  She held her teddy bear tightly, and tears ran down her face.  Our seatmate then talked to her, I of course have no idea what he said… but the little girl calmed down and started to enjoy herself.  {if i were single, i’d get my buns to Italy.  there are still sweet guys out there after all!}

i remember in the book eat, pray, love (although i could only ever get into the eat part),  she spoke about how people are worried about italians.  but how she sees this incredible sensitivity there, and how we should aspire to be like italians.  i couldn’t agree more.  so, thanks italy, thanks for loving my baby so much.  i thought i couldn’t love you more, but i totally do.