Twas the night before Christmas and all through the villa
The whole place was rocking, it must be Godzilla
So J in his boxers and I in my socks
Arose from the bed- to check all the locks.

Outside the window there was so much racket
We each grabbed a broom with the hopes we could "whack" it.
A watchdog next door with "alarm" set on "bark"
Competed with sirens on the road in the dark.

We took to our bed with hopes we might sleep
When from under the blanket a stealth feline did creep
Each moving foot he considered a critter
Pounced on it then left to scratch his cat litter.

And scratch it he did, and spread it around
And just when we thought there could be no more sound
Boy One and Boy Two arose for the day
Bright eyed and chipper and ready to play

The stockings were ransacked, the presents soon gone
And it was still early- not much after dawn!
 Boy Two is now wailing, Boy One is to blame
Turns out "squash the younger" is NOT a fun game.

After the older returns from "Time Out,"
Says that he's sorry, and wipes off the pout
Turns down Christmas goodies cuz what he wants most
is for Mommy (NOT DADDY!!) to make him some toast.


Some balls have gone missing under a chair...
The elder is hoarding his toys and can't share...
We can't find the batteries, the sausage is burned...
The dog ate her squeak toy, the milk might have turned...

And just when the madness hits a new high
J and I choose to just sit back and sigh.
Life abroad with two boys can leave you quite "fried."
Unless you remember to savor the ride. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Years to you and yours.
:)

A real post

Alright, so that WAS a copout, I know.  But a shower when you have two toddlers is nearly the most important event of the entire week...so you really would like for it to be a nice experience.  But I am sure you are more interested in musings on Naples than in musings on my hygiene, so I guess I will move on.  Let's start at the beginning.  I have heard it said that Naples is a "beautiful woman with dirty feet," and I agree with the characterization.  Let's just say I am glad that I arrived in the city at night, so that I didn't have to confront the culture change in broad daylight.  Apart from the burning sensation in my eyes and throat (which I would come to learn is a constant state due to the burning trash until you !YIKES! adjust to it) and the heart palpitations from the pachinko game they call driving here, my first impression of the broader Naples (in the dark) was that it was not nearly as "urban" as I had expected.  Upon first light Husband took me and the boys and dog on our first drive in daylight to get a feel for the area.  The area, I came to realize, is an amazing juxtaposition of all things ancient and modern.  Beneath the shadow of the volcano, modern highrise apartment homes and clean high speed tollways are tightly woven with potted two lane roads filled with rotting trash and stray dogs.  Slick black mercedes stream past tractors traveling to and from the apricot and citrus orchards that pepper the landscape.  Enormous billboards advertising mobile phones and house furnishings are pasted on the sides of crumbling buildings  which would have received historical note if we had been in the states.  But we're not.  We are definitely in Italy.

Where to start?

Well, for the fact that it is the most recent and therefore most prominent musing, lets start with the banal.  My shower is an incredible nuisance.  For one thing, it is as big around as my behind.  And, imho, I have no more than a medium sized behind, as behinds go.  So there is that.  Then there is the placement of the faucet- elbow height- which ensures that every attempt to say, lift your arms to apply shampoo or soap, or revolve in the shower to obtain said shampoo or soap, results in the shower being turned off.  This would not be such a crisis except that, once turned off, the shower requires 90 additional seconds of cold water generation prior to producing hot again.  Each shower I have taken thus far has included at least two of these "surprise shower restarts" which, though invigorating, does not make for a delightful experience.