I spell it LONG DISTANCE PHONE CALL TO GREAT FRIEND IN CALIFORNIA. Not as catchy as r-o-l-a-i-d-s, but infinitely more soothing to my lonely soul. I have been having a pity party these last few days. Not an all out bash, no drunken swinging from the rafters. Just an intimate little soiree with some hot tea and more bran flakes out of the box. I just miss my friends. It's lonely at the bottom of Italy. (Wink to you...you know who you are).
The Baby had her first visit with a homeopath. She was great, both the Baby and the Dottoressa. She prescribed sambucum (would a shot of the licorice liqueur do the trick?) and belladonna (how italian) and then sulphur. I don't know if any of this is going to help, but it seems better than the steroid, cortisone drug prescribed by the other, public health, assigned Dottoressa, the one in the musty office packed with sick kids and their teenage moms, the one who let the pharmaceutical company rep in for a half hour while the kids wheezed and coughed and gagged and sweated, the one who has a secretary who demands a euro tip when you leave. That Dottoressa stuck a stick in the Baby's mouth and then prescribed the drug Bentelan and then said, "But it's really nothing." If the Baby has nothing, then why prescribe a big fat drug? BITCH!
I have a hacky cough now. Great.
Yesterday, I burned the Baby's mouth on some too hot soup because I was distracted. Then I nearly launched her from her stroller when the wheel got stuck between the curb and the street. She does not have a five-point harness. She does not even have a three-point harness. Just a lap belt. She is fine. She even laughed. But I cried. I felt like such a bad mom. The good mom did at least strap her in. I can't be held responsible for the enormous chasms that innocent stroller wheels fall into all over Naples. And I don't hold the Baby in my lap in car, she has a car seat. And we don't all three of us ride a moped without helmets. And I don't smoke while breastfeeding. Gee. I'm not so terrible!
Obviously, I am in need of some warm pats on the back. No one is around to provide, so I have to self-pat. Not pet. Who has time for self-petting? Am I talking about masturbation on my blog? No, I didn't think so.
Neapolitans think black pepper is bad for you but hot pepper (peperoncino) is not. You mustn't drink cold water, eat cold food (explain ice cream, please), drink milk in the afternoon, cook with both garlic and onion at the same time. Non si fa. It isn't done. A favorite answer to Why.
The Baby had her first visit with a homeopath. She was great, both the Baby and the Dottoressa. She prescribed sambucum (would a shot of the licorice liqueur do the trick?) and belladonna (how italian) and then sulphur. I don't know if any of this is going to help, but it seems better than the steroid, cortisone drug prescribed by the other, public health, assigned Dottoressa, the one in the musty office packed with sick kids and their teenage moms, the one who let the pharmaceutical company rep in for a half hour while the kids wheezed and coughed and gagged and sweated, the one who has a secretary who demands a euro tip when you leave. That Dottoressa stuck a stick in the Baby's mouth and then prescribed the drug Bentelan and then said, "But it's really nothing." If the Baby has nothing, then why prescribe a big fat drug? BITCH!
I have a hacky cough now. Great.
Yesterday, I burned the Baby's mouth on some too hot soup because I was distracted. Then I nearly launched her from her stroller when the wheel got stuck between the curb and the street. She does not have a five-point harness. She does not even have a three-point harness. Just a lap belt. She is fine. She even laughed. But I cried. I felt like such a bad mom. The good mom did at least strap her in. I can't be held responsible for the enormous chasms that innocent stroller wheels fall into all over Naples. And I don't hold the Baby in my lap in car, she has a car seat. And we don't all three of us ride a moped without helmets. And I don't smoke while breastfeeding. Gee. I'm not so terrible!
Obviously, I am in need of some warm pats on the back. No one is around to provide, so I have to self-pat. Not pet. Who has time for self-petting? Am I talking about masturbation on my blog? No, I didn't think so.
Neapolitans think black pepper is bad for you but hot pepper (peperoncino) is not. You mustn't drink cold water, eat cold food (explain ice cream, please), drink milk in the afternoon, cook with both garlic and onion at the same time. Non si fa. It isn't done. A favorite answer to Why.
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