So here we are back the the good ol’ U. S. of A., and after spending every waking hour with my kids for ten days in Italy (and more non-waking hours than I’d prefer with them since we’ve been home) maybe I’m starting to embrace my boys’ philosophy that everything should be a competition.

So I bring you the showdown: Italy vs America.

JET LAG

This is how my kids sleep after traveling TO Europe:

From our 2009 trip.

This is what my kids look like circa four am for about a week after we get back:

Even though they’re exhausted, whether or not they nap.  They also are only hungry at off times and not at all hungry at mealtimes.

And it doesn’t happen AT ALL on the way there, they just bounce right on to Italian time like they’ve lived there all their lives.

So we’ve been home since late Saturday night and the kids all slept until six am for the first time this morning, hooray!

But, clearly . . .

WIN = Italy

— 2 —

WATER-BASED TECHNOLOGIES

I’m about to talk toilets and laundry.  To spare you a photo of an actual Italian toilet, here’s one the husband took of me as we were trying to decide whether I was cool enough to use this toilet:

I’m thinking probably no, but I went in anyway.

They still seem to favor gravity-based toilets with the big tank hanging over your head, which I just find disconcerting.  And I’m a little uncomfortable with their dual flush options.  You’re supposed to push the littler flush button for number one and the bigger flush button for bigger jobs.  But I’m like, “Hey, that’s none of your business Italian flush pad.”  But maybe that’s just me.

The bigger issue is laundry.  We always stay in houses or apartments because it’s cheaper but also so I can do laundry.  But gracious, doing laundry in Italy is an ordeal.  Jenny has already documented her struggles with it here, but honestly I think she is greatly UNDERSTATING how lousy their laundry technology is.

If, for instance, one of your kids on the first night you are in Sorrento, barfs all over all the sheets and pillow of the queen-size bed she’s sleeping in in this house that is way fancier than you need but was the only house in a twenty mile radius that would fit your whole family, AND a different kid wets a different bed on the same night . . . well, you are out of luck.

Italian washing machines are tiny so it’s going to take many, many loads to wash the sheets, coverlet, mattress pads, and pillow, and its going to take ALL DAY because their “speed wash” setting takes two hours!  And we were lucky enough to have a dryer, which is very rare in Italy.  They all hang laundry to dry, which is quaint and all and fits my old fashioned sensibilities, but sometimes you just need it dry, now!

So even with a dryer we ended up just putting blankets under the kids and hoping for the best and doing one load per night.

WIN = America

CARS

Italy has some adorable tiny cars:

Gus thought he was just the right size for this “Luigi.”

And adorable tiny firetrucks:

And adorable tiny garbage trucks:

ROAD SIGNS

So, that’s all cleared up then.

They are meant to indicate that you are not allowed on one side, but you are allowed on the other.  But to me it says: “DON’T GO!  This way.”  Which is confusing.

And boy do they like those blue arrows.  If they’re doing work on the Autostrada they’ll put hundreds of them in a row:

All pointed at oh-so-slightly different angles and all seeming to say, “Hey! Look at this!”  “Hey! Look at this!”  “Hey! Look at this!”  Honestly, how can anyone pay attention to driving?

There’s also this:

Which means: Cows. Up and down.  Of course.

But it sure makes for entertaining drives, so . . .

WIN = Italy

The husband was the one driving and he insists that however diverting the road signs are for passengers, they are lousy for drivers and that I must give the win to . . .

WIN = America

And apparently, sometimes Italian babies just must have horsemeat and nothing else will do:

I think we know who’s going to win this one.  But I just found it noteworthy that while my neighborhood church is decorated for Easter with dozens of fresh lilies and hydrangeas, draped with strands of twinkle lights and faux flowers, and bedazzled with yards of gold lamé fabric (including a loincloth on Our Lord that would surely get a thumbs up from Elton John) . . . the beautiful churches of Italy just continue to look beautiful, un-bedazzled.  No need to guild the lily as they say. (But there were some lilies.)