First off, I should start by telling you that while we didn’t hike all five towns today, we did hike the most challenging stretch – between Monterosso (where we’re staying) and Vernazza. It’s just over 3 kilometers and is estimated to take 2 hours.

It took us 3.5*.

*Disclaimer: I was wearing flip flops and we had a 5-year-old in tow. I will also tell you that A) we had no idea how challenging this stretch of the hike was going to be and B) at the risk of bragging about our mini traveler, she knocked the socks off of dozens of passersby who looked at her in awe and at her parents in a slightly “what the hell are you doing to your kid” sort of way.

She totally earned her gelato, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Here’s the how-to, step by step:

Step 1:
Take a nice picture at the start of your hike when your mini traveler is still fresh-faced and fully-dressed.

Steps 2 thru 27:
Five minutes after hike starts, begin alternating your answers between “not much longer”, “you’re doing great”, “stop complaining”, and “do you want a snack” when your mini traveler starts asking “How much further?”, “Can we go back?”, “I’m too hot”, and “I’m so tired”.

Step 28:
Take lots of breaks.

Step 29:
Stop often for your mini traveler to take pictures of flowers,
trees,
water,
bugs,
rocks,
her thumb,
and any and all other eye-catching items.

This step is crucial when trying to maintain sanity and keep up morale. Or, when trying to distract the mini from the daunting task at hand. It is also very rewarding when she utters things like, “oooooooh, this is soooooo beautiful” under her breath while concentrating on getting The Money Shot.

Steps 30 – 37:
Don’t forget the pep talks, especially on the precarious, rocky stairways. Ignore the fact that you feel like you might pass out yourself. Keep moving.

Step 38:
Stop for snacks. Especially sweet or salty snacks like these Half Pops. They didn’t pay me for this endorsement, but they’d be fools not to use this face in their advertising. And if you haven’t tried this yummy new treat, it’s like snack crack. Seriously.

Step 39:
Stop for trail-side, fresh-squeezed lemonade. Enjoy two sips and give the rest of yours to your mini traveler who has finished all of hers in one gulp.

Step 40:
Feed and pet the locals. Apply hand sanitizer. Repeat as necessary.

Step 41:
Stop to shed a few layers that your mini insisted on wearing. Insist in return on another picture as payment for your efforts.

Step 42:
Don’t forget to capture an “almost-there-and-we-mean-it-this-time” moment on camera. Lucky for all of you, they haven’t invented scratch-and-sniff photos yet. It wasn’t pretty.

Step 43:
Bask in the glory of arriving – finally!

Step 44:
Make concessions that you’d never allow at home.

Step 45:
Replenish the calories you burned. The salty olives totally restore your electrolytes.

Step 46:
Take more pictures.

Step 47:
Hike back take the train to your hotel.

Step 48:
Head straight to the beach.

Step 49:
Eat more gelato. Repeat as necessary.

In summary, we had a great day and the only thing on my to-do list is to kick my feet up with a glass of vino.

What’s your favorite gelato or ice cream flavor? I’d love to hear from you!

One of the many joys of traveling for us is that we always have the chance to learn new things. Good thing (?) for you, this family has a lot to learn. Here are a few tips that we’ve discovered from the last day or so:

Tip #1:

If you are planning to take small children to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, be sure to come prepared to manage their expectations. And by this I mean, if your child is younger than 8 years old, when they say, “Can we please go up to the top, can we please go up to the top, can we please go up to the top??” 1,000 times in a row, be ready to answer each request with “You need to be 8 years old, you need to be 8 years old, you need to be 8 years old.” 1,000 times in a row.

This would have been super helpful to know before waiting in line to get tickets.

Ah, life lessons.

Tip #2:

After a morning of train travel to your final destination by the sea, find a local spot serving fresh eats, stat. Very important for road-weary travelers. Especially the mini ones.

Tip #3:

No matter how much you want to laugh, take your mini traveler very seriously when she asks you if the “little sink in the bathroom is just for HER.” (I’m sure Olivia will thank me when she’s a teenager that I told all of you this story. And also, now that she knows what this “little sink” is really for, I should probably not tell you that she loves loves LOVES having it all to herself.)

Tip #4:

No matter how much he/she resists, be sure that your travel companion brings eye protection from the sun. He/she will thank you later.

Tip #5:

After promptly filling your bellies, make sure all mini travelers have direct and immediate access to their swimsuit and the sea.

Tip #6:

Forget everything you’ve learned about beachcombing back home for colored glass and remain in awe of the local treasures you will find if you look closely.

Tip #7:

Ask the lifeguard to drop everything he’s doing to take several family pictures until he gets the right one. Repeat as necessary.

Tip #8:

Find a hotel that is a stone’s throw from life’s essentials.

Tip #9:

Eat gelato. Repeat as necessary.

Tip #10:

Draw a picture for your waiter (and OF your waiter) in hopes that …..

…..he’ll give you free limoncello (and a lollipop, not pictured).

Tip #11:

Let the mini traveler stay up a little past her bedtime. You’re on vacation, after all.

In summary, I have officially converted to Italian Time and can’t even remember what a to-do list IS let alone have one in my possession.

What are some of your favorite travel tips? I’d love to hear from you!

If you read this post last week, you know that Tuesday* is the day for sharing things we’re grateful for.

*Disclaimer: at least I think it’s Tuesday. I’m on vacation. It all blends together.

Here, I’ll get us started:

I’m grateful that we had the chance to do some laundry in Germany before heading to Italy so that it would be clean underwear strewn all over the airport when we had to transfer 8 kilos of weight between one suitcase to the other and cut our carry-on bags down by 50%.

Awesome.

I’m grateful that we finally made it here:

And I got to spend the day saying “cheese” with these cute travel companions:

I’m also grateful for this guy who loves me enough to reluctantly happily pose for shots like this:

Yeah, that is totally John holding up the tower. He is super strong.

I’m also grateful for modern medicine and the advent of antibiotics, should they be necessary. Yes, that is Olivia taking a quick bath in a public fountain. You may recall from this post that I am slightly challenged in this area.

I’m grateful for these feathery friends who provided Olivia with both math and art classes today. She spent her time counting every single pigeon she saw (she made it to over 40) and snapping blurry action shots of them at every opportunity.

Last but not least, I am grateful for the lovely Italians for inventing this:

And this:

*Disclaimer: John and I invented the little person on the left. The Italians are the geniuses responsible for the gelato. And we are responsible for sampling it twice per day. At minimum. It’s the least we can do to recognize their efforts.

In summary, I am absolutely going to look into a low-carb diet. The minute I get home.

What are you grateful for today? I’d love to hear from you!

I can’t speak for other Americans, but for me, my daily life at home looks something like this:

Wake up. Start working. Eat if I have to. Get Olivia dressed. Get back to work. Cross something off my list. Add 10 things to it. Take Olivia to swimming/T-ball/etc. Eat dinner. Take a (brief) breath. Put kid to bed. Back to work. Go to bed. Dream about lists. Wake up. Start again.

I mentioned in this post how grateful I am to have the opportunity to experience how other people in other parts of the world do things. We are in Germany right now visiting family and we will be heading to Italy tomorrow. We took a daytrip to The Netherlands today because – why not? There was time, nothing was rushed, no one was crossing anything off to-do lists.

From what we’ve observed in this part of the world, people take the time to enjoy their day. They slow down and savor meals. They sip their coffee sitting down. They visit with each other. They talk. And they also rest quietly and are present in the moment. It’s a beautiful thing.

And somehow, the most amazing thing happens: they still manage to get everything done.

Something tells me I have a lot to learn.

Right after lunch (al fresco no less) we spotted these go-carts. We had a ferry to catch back from this quaint little town, but of course there was time to wait while Olivia enjoyed a ride. Only 1 euro per turn? Here are 2 euros – let her go twice.

Ahh, the joy of making the moment last.

There is always time for another ride.

Another laugh.

Another “prost!” by your little lady holding a huge (root)beer mug.

And maybe for a few adults with beers, too.

I’d also like to slow down this Memorial Day, thousands of miles from home but still with my thoughts towards the brave men and women who have – and continue – to serve our country well.

What’s something you stopped and remembered today? I’d love to hear from you!

It’s not the turbulence on an airplane that bothers me. Truth be told, I kind of like the bumps and shaking. The way my stomach flips up and down with every rise and drop of the big amusement park ride in the sky.

What really bothers me during these mandatory “fasten your seatbelt” moments is the crippling fear that my fellow passengers are going to lose their lunch on or around me. If you read this post, you already know that I am germ-challenged, but this debilitating fear takes my phobias to new heights (accidental pun).

I seem to attract these queasy souls to me like moths to a porch light.

Simply put, I’m a Vomit Magnet.

From city buses in Seattle, snorkel boats in Cancun, airplane trips to Las Vegas and crowded trollies in Zihuatanejo, I have found myself dangerously close to the business end of this unfortunate situation.

Luckily for me (and those of you reading this), despite some rather turbulent moments on our way into Germany, the flight was uneventful and I somehow managed to steer clear of flying debris, so to speak.

In (much more palatable news) we had a great first day in Dusseldorf, enjoying the Old Town and the unseasonably warm weather.

If you’re going to vandalize a wall with graffiti, may as well be an optimistic message. I confess that I couldn’t help but shout WOO HOO! back at this wall, and felt pretty fine doing it.

We capped off our day in town with a boat ride along the Rhine, complete with the photos. We didn’t stand out as tourists AT ALL. We totally blended in, don’t you think?

iPhone apps come in handy when you’re killing time waiting in line.

Cheers to the start of a great trip! Olivia felt so fancy-pants with her wine glass of water.

This one might make the Christmas Card Short List just for Olivia’s expression alone.

Gorgeous skyline from the Rhine. TRIVIA QUESTION: who’s the architect behind these cool buildings? Hint: he also designed a fairly famous, not-the-Space-Needle icon in Seattle.

Bon Voyage! Say cheese!

Guten nacht, freunde!

To-do List, Shmoo-List. I’m on vacation.

Well, friends. Our European Vacation is officially underway. To get this party started right, we had the unique opportunity to get an in-depth, 8-hour look at the lovely Vancouver, BC airport.

Trust me, I’m not complaining. Things could definitely have been worse. At the risk of offending anyone, I won’t mention any specific airports by name, but let’s just say that some of them are not called “the armpits of America” by accident.

With my lack of journalism experience and ill-equipped camera footage, who better than yours truly to give a comprehensive review of the goings-on in this bustling international hub?

No offense taken if you realize your mistake and quietly step away. You’ve been forewarned.

For those hearty souls that are still with me, I bring you, “What To Do For An Entire Day at The Vancouver, BC Airport”:

You can……

…take pictures with your camera of miniature tourists holding their cameras. It’s very artsy. Very abstract.

….charter a boat. For an 8-hour tour.

…consume adult beverages at inappropriate times of the day.*

*Disclaimer: it was 5:00 somewhere.

…get a geography lesson with your lunch menu. Very helpful when traveling to foreign places.

…catch a few zzzz’s. I am 100% certain this was due to our 4:30am wake-up call and definitely NOT our 2-for-1 margaritas.

(This one had chocolate milk, not a margarita. Don’t report us.)

…find buried treasure.

…and then proceed to lose it all as quickly as you found it.

…meet new friends.

…buy all kinds of useful souvenirs before you even reach your destination.

…have custom luggage made in the exact replica of your offspring.

…blow your diet in a rainbow of colorful ways.

…feel right at home. Every few hundred feet.

…cross a thing or two off that growing to-do list.

…get into a zen state of mind, focusing on your Happy Place.

…pretend you are an international spy on a top-secret mission.

…have your child help subsidize your vacation by fishing for pennies in the wishing pond.*

*Disclaimer: I didn’t really have her fish for pennies. The quarters had a much higher ROI.

At 4:00 pm, we bid adieu to the airport. Ah, so many fond memories. We laughed, we cried. We learned new things. We had time to ponder our belly buttons. But, alas, all good things must eventually come to an end.

Last but not least, a visual from my yet-to-be-published book titled, “How To Travel Like a Neurotic Germaphobe”:

Behold – The Crib Sheet Airplane Seat Cover.

I know your only regret is that you’ve waited this long to try it. Trust me, you’ll never go back.

In summary, I left my to-do list in the airport bathroom. For the next 10 days I’m going to pretend I had everything checked off. I’ll keep you posted on how that works out.

Got any travel tips of your own? I’d love to hear from you!

Arguably we have had the most awesome neighbors. Ever. Well, they’re still there, and they’re still awesome. But recently, things have changed.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

Long before we lost this hen last week, this other thing happened. To soften the blow, I’ll tell it to you in song. There’ll be a quiz at the end.

Now here’s a little story I’ve got to tell
About these rad neighbors we liked so well

It started way back on Labor Day
When we said “hi” and they said “hey”

They had a couple kids that were nice and sweet
They grabbed our little lady and took her down the street

Runnin’ through the grass, kickin’ off their shoes
We couldn’t have found better if we had had to choose

Two hungry yuppies we be
All by ourselves without nobody

The sun was goin’ down on this foreign street
We were all outta beer and had nothin’ to eat

Seein’ we were sad, our neighbor Lynn came by
She handed us fresh pasta, and I thought I might just die

She also brought prosecco and we were dying of thirst
How kind of these new neighbors – they barely knew us first

Her husband D came by and he brought this little tip:
“Please don’t get a rooster or else folks will really to flip.”

He said, “Do you like hens?”
I said, “Well…that depends.”

He said they can be fun
When they’re daughters and not sons

They come in fancy colors such as black and red.
We don’t mind if you keep them just as long as they’re not “Fred”

We started out with 8 hens when we bought this home
The good part of this story is about to come

Now the winter on the island, it got really cold
The raccoons come a prowlin’ or so we’ve been told

We stepped into the hen house, not sure what to do
We thought we still had eight but now there were just two

Now it was a big mess, that part is true
We had only one choice of what to do

It was a tough decision, I just have to say
But we were really used to fresh eggs each day

I said, let’s find somewhere we can place another order
We’ve got to make this right for our little blonde daughter

We looked all over craigslist, and we searched the internet
This was not a story that we would soon forget

So we called someone who had some hens but he didn’t know the sex
If we wanted hens today, we’d have to hedge our bets

Mr. Cluck Norris (true story) that was his name
And selling us spring chickens was his claim to fame

We rode for two hours then we hit the spot
The birds were a-squawkin’ all over the lot

This dude showed us around, said to have a look
5 little chickens is what we finally took

He said, “Don’t worry, you might get a rooster or two.”
“Just call me up in May, I’ll tell you what to do.”

We said, “Sure thing” and gave him our money.
A ROOSTER? We thought. At the time, it sure seemed funny.

Fast-forward two months, time has really flown
These fuzzy little chickens have just grown and grown

Last week we went to feed them, and just our luck
I said, Did that sound odd? That sure wasn’t a ‘cluck’….

This one crazy red one was demandin’ respect
The hens called him The Boss or risked getting pecked

We’re leaving on vacation and we know we’re lame
When we return in two weeks we’ll feel the shame

Our neighbors have to suffer with this little cock
I’m kinda glad we won’t hear when he wakes the block

Lovely neighbors, please forgive us, we’ll bring you diamonds and rings.
Oh, before I forget, would you mind feeding these things?

 POP QUIZ: first person to name the song this was set to wins ………….. a rooster.

The good news is, I got my list down to 57 items. I sure hope they have wi-fi on the plane.

Poor Tuesday. It’s like the middle-child of weekdays. Well not technically the middle, that’s Wednesday. But you get the idea.

Monday has that whole start-of-the-week-manic-Bangles-song thing going for it.

Then you’ve got Wednesday. Hump Day. Suddenly you’re 60% closer to the weekend.

And Thursday. Ah, Thursday. Also known as “Early Friday.”

Speaking of Friday, they don’t call it TGIF by accident.

The weekends? Hello, no explanation necessary.

In honor of the week-day underdog, Tuesdays will be the official day to reflect on things to be grateful for.*

*Disclaimer: the fact that gratitude + tuesday made a fairly awesome word-smoosh was TOTALLY coincidental and had no bearing on my decision whatsoever. None.

Here, I’ll get us started:

I am grateful for these pink polka-dot pajama pants that John gave me for Christmas.

Try to look past the crazy perspective of this photo. Have you ever tried taking a picture of your own legs? It’s not as easy as it looks.

But I’m even MORE grateful for the amazing husband I have who puts toothpaste on my toothbrush every day for me and loves me even when I’m wearing these pink polka-dot pajama pants. Which is seriously a win for both of us since he sees me in them 23 hours a day.

Sorry, babe.

He loves to wear pink, too.

I am grateful for the beautiful way a child’s mind works when we slow down and take the time to pay attention to it. (a daily reminder for me)

Some little blonde girl left these things on my nightstand. The silver sequined crown is so that “I have something pretty to look at while she’s at school.”

The Play-doh is “to make my room smell nice” because she knows how much I love the way Play-doh smells.

JOY.

PURE. JOY.

I am grateful for the relationship I have with my wonderful mom. And I am seriously grateful that she kicked cancer straight in the ass and can now focus on more important things like her impressive bowling average and her biker babe status.

With a little less boob and a lot more life.

*Disclaimer: my mom would never say “bad-ass.”

I am grateful that we get to take our little lady to this place in a few days:

I work in the travel industry with the most incredible people from every corner of the world. Being in this field has shown me how enriching and fulfilling it can be to expose ourselves and our children to other cultures, ways of thinking, foods, religions. I am so grateful for the chance to look beyond myself. My life. My daily routines and beliefs.

Whoa, that was pretty deep.

I am also grateful for this cheese that was 50% off at the store the other day. It is seriously good. And SUPER stinky.*

*Disclaimer: it was not on a crazy sale because it was about to pass its prime, people. They were having a cheese promotion. I have (a few) standards. Sheesh.

In summary, I am grateful that I still have 23 hours left to pack for our trip. And to wear these pink polka-dot pajamas.

What are you feeling grateful for? I’d love to hear from you!

I’m not going to mince words here: I totally fit the Seattle stereotype. I recycle. I rinse and reuse Ziploc baggies. I wear polar fleece and drive a Eurovan. I own at least four umbrellas and I never use any of them.

And I like coffee. Really, really strong, was-that-a-chest-hair-I-just-grew, coffee.

I weaned my child on cappuccinos and served her milk in a Starbucks tumbler.*

*Disclaimer: the above statement is almost entirely false.

At the fabulous-o company where I work, there is a very special gal named Kari. Kari stays plenty busy with her regular job, but somehow she also finds the time to keep our office stocked with myriad sundries and random fun.

I secretly call her the Kari Fairy, and picture her fluttering down the hall with her sparkly red hair and magic wand, sprinkling rainbow-colored treats and morale-boosting fairy dust along the way.

Last week, Kari sent this inter-office email:

That’s all fine and well, but I work remotely and only go into the Seattle office once a week. Plus, John makes a pot of coffee first thing every morning so I’ve gotten a little spoiled used to waking up to fresh brew.

So, I hit reply and hastily shot this message back and moved on. Done. Check. Next. Feeling pretty good about crossing something off the list.

But then I went into the office. And this happened.

NO, you do not need to adjust your monitor. YES, I am hugging a coffee machine.

It’s hard to describe it if you weren’t there, but it was as if the clouds parted and little coffee bean angels floated down from the sky, blowing little tiny, java-scented angel kisses at me.

Suddenly, our office break room was transformed into a tranquil day spa, except replace the chilled cucumber slices with green post-it notes that I cut into circles for effect and swap out the hot stone massage with … well, nothing, actually. (Who gets hot stone massages in the office break room? That’s just wrong.)

Anyway, suffice it to say, I took my steamy cup of caffeine gold and slinked back to my office, head down, eyes averted. If I had a tail, you know where it would be.

I think this might be what crow tastes like.

And, Kari? Um, if you’re reading this I just wanted to tell you that you have REALLY pretty hair.

And also? If it’s not too late, well, I’d really love the opportunity to change my vote to a “yes” on this whole coffee maker situation. You know, if there’s still time.

Did I mention the hair? It really sparkles.

The good news is that I only have 63 things left on my to-do list before we leave for vay-cay on Thursday. And I am determined to cross three things off AT MINIMUM. By tomorrow morning.

Have you ever had to eat crow? Trust me when I tell you it does NOT taste like chicken.

Oh boy, here we go with confessions again. Hang on to your hats.

After our dinner date at Purple the other night, we went up to Capitol Hill to go dancing here.

There, I said it. We like to go cut a rug together and pretend we are still in the prime of our youth without a worry, a mortgage or a Eurovan to our name.

I like going here with my fella. I like the atmosphere, the music, the way John’s eyes light up when they play the latest J.Lo hit and he whispers “I love this song” and starts mouthing all the words.

But do you know what I love the most? Knowing that every time we go there, no matter what we are wearing, how awkward and Elaine-like my moves might be, or the fact that I ask for a drink with Malibu rum in it, no one ever gives us a sideways look.

And we are never judged.

This is the kind of place that embraces “come as you are” with open arms. It is a safe haven for every person in every walk of life and it does not matter if you are a Democrat, a Republican, if you like vinyl body suits, bowties and stilettos, or neon green leg warmers.

And it definitely does not matter who you choose to be with, as long as you are bringing your open mind, your “be kind to others” spirit, and your dancing shoes.

Yes, this also happens to be a venue that is popular in the LGBT community. You are sure to encounter every combination of relationship here: single, gay, straight, and everything in between.

And the irony is not lost on me: here is a population of individuals that usually rank at the top of the list when it comes to being ostracized and persecuted in our society and yet when we step foot into a place where they enjoy getting together, we are embraced.

Without judgment.

I can’t (and won’t) speak for anyone else, but as for me, this expression of acceptance is one that will continue to inspire me to be a less judgmental, better person. And it is the message we strive to teach our little person.

Kindness is key. Love comes naturally. Hatred is learned.

I realize this is a hot topic right now. It’s in the news. Our president is talking about it. Our friends on Facebook are talking about it. My opinions may not be the same as yours, and that’s ok. What really matters most to me is that regardless of who we are and what our beliefs may be, we all deserve our own version of happiness.

I am happily married to the love of my life. Whoever you choose to commit yourself to and if and who you choose to marry has no bearing on that fact.

Your choices do not jeopardize the sanctity of my marriage. Putting an empty milk carton back in the fridge, on the other hand, is another story.*

*Disclaimer: I am much more likely to be guilty of this offense than John is. Sorry, babe. Apologies in advance.

In short, I am definitely going to start looking for our luggage before we leave for our trip on Thursday. It is one of the top 10 things on my list. For tomorrow.

What is something that you feel passionate about?