“AIRPLANE!” I shout it often, whether I’m onboard or on foot.
The Swedes are beautiful people, but they’re not very friendly to babies. While flying from Paris to Gothenburg, I was playing nicely on Daddy’s lap, rolling my car up and down his arms and legs. I was not screaming or pooping… just quietly entertaining myself. Each time I barely tapped the seat in front of me, the woman would huff and sigh and throw me a mean look. Dad was bracing himself, anticipating her complaint, and doing his best to keep my fingers off her chair. When I couldn’t resist unlatching her tray table, she confronted daddy. I thought he’d say swear at her, but instead he calmly explained that I’d been traveling for 20 hours and I’m just a baby. She said she had kids too and know how they’re supposed to behave. Hmpff.
The food in Sweden was amazing, but I didn’t feel very welcome in the restaurants. Apparently, babies stroll but do not dine. The sidewalks were filled with new moms, but I was a rare bird indoors! A couple actually approached our table at 8pm to declare: “that child should be sleeping!” (Daddy never lets me miss my long afternoon naps… in fact, I was well rested!) It was terribly cold, too… -18C in Stockholm. So dad and I spent our time lounging in the hotel room while mommy was at work.
We flew into Pisa, where suddenly I was on center stage. Italians LOVE babies. They rubbed my hair and pinched my cheeks, and gave me toys, candy, and biscotti. It was raining there and I had fun splashing in the puddles.


Daddy did a great job driving the Fiat, despite mommy being a useless co-pilot. She had every navigational tool needed: a GPS, mi-fi, laptop, smartphone, and a map. Yet daddy had to figure it out on his own, with me projectile vomiting sour yogurt while zipping down the freeway. We drove into the walled town of Lucca, and stayed in a beautiful hotel with the nicest inn-keeper. I slept in the bathroom in my crib, and my toys slept in the bidet. We had espresso in bed in the morning, and pizza and wine on the floor in the evening. Ohhhhhh, pizza!



There are fountains throughout Italian towns, and I drank from every one of them. Like the Butthole Surfers said….
“Some will fall in love with life
and drink it from a fountain
that is pouring like an avalanche
coming down the mountain.”


We walked and strolled, enjoying the architecture and culture.


Daddy mused that the Italian air even made my hair look artistic. Check out this perfect curl!

Driving in Florence was really nuts. After going around in circles, confused by one-way streets, we finally just parked the car and walked to the hotel, then re-traced our steps to locate the car. What a treat when we checked into our hotel. It was regal! What a view of the red tile rooftops!




Mommy and daddy shopped for 3 days straight… exhausting! Daddy was so happy to find the Energie store (who needs 6 pairs of jeans?!!) The best part of Florence was the construction activity. The city was a pretty backdrop for this busy, noisy scene. We parked the stroller, covered our ears, and I watched in amazement as the workers smoked, drank coffee, and controlled those powerful machines! I’ve been studying, and I can tell you which one’s a backhoe, front loader, crane, bulldozer, roller, or forklift.




Next we went to Siena, another medieval town with windy stone streets, tall walls, and a bell tower. It had a giant square where they have horse races, and I ran around and played in the fountain while mommy and daddy sat and watched from the Caffè. The park there was magical, and I made friends with a stone horse and two swans.





On our final night in Europe, we all played together in the park, enjoying a bottle of wine out of a shared plastic cup.



Ciao Italy! Arrivederci!
On the plane back, I had a poop problem. Mommy changed my yucky diaper 6 times, and my soiled pants twice… sealing them up tight and tucking them under the seat. Despite this, the Italian lady next to us let me sit on her lap, and told me a story for every charm on her bracelet.
Back in Santa Cruz, Daddy’s been busy working on the house and the boats. He painted the outside of the house, and Darryl built wooden plant potters beneath our bedroom windows. I encourage dad’s work, often saying, “Nicccccce, Daddy!” Next, daddy needs to fence in the yard, as I ride BIG WHEELS now (thanks Uncle Jason)!

Daddy has the sailboat all waxed and polished, and he re-finished the teak. On Sunday Fundays, we drink champagne with friends and row around the harbor in the dinghy. I wear a life vest and a tether because I don’t want to fall in. It was no surprise that my car sunk when I threw it overboard, but why didn’t my float plane float? When I know I’m funny, I say, “Rudy’s fun-nie!”
