Facciamo La Pizza!

Pizza dough ingredients:

3-3 and 1/2 cups flour

1 tsp salt

1 pinch of sugar

1 cup of lukewarm water

1 package of dry yeast

If using Italian yeast, read the directions which will most likely tell you to add the yeast to the flour.

If using American yeast, empty packet into a large bowl and add the lukewarm water, and the pinch of sugar. Mix and allow to stand for 5 to 10 minutes.

Next add the salt and about a third of the flour and mix with a wooden spoon.

Sprinkle some flour onto a clean working surface and plop the batter on it. Mix in the remaining flour a little at a time, kneading for about 8 to 10 minutes.

This is where you really notice the convenience of kitchen slaves, if you have them. Make sure your little kitchen slave has washed his hands thoroughly, and even under the nails before letting him touch the dough!

Next, lightly oil a mixing bowl and leave the dough in it and covered,to rise about 45 minutes.

Gently punch the dough back down and remove from the bowl. Make four equal balls of dough if making 4 medium pizzas, or two equal balls of dough if making two large pizzas.

With a rolling pin, roll out the dough to about a thickness of 3/8 inch.

Place dough in a lightly oiled pan, or use parchment paper to line the pan.

Next assemble the toppings.

Here were ours:

Tomato sauce, dried spices, fresh basil and mozarella cheese. Simple, and oh so good!

Next, if you would like to surprise your kitchen slaves, roll out your second large pizza ball, and ask them to top it with Nutella and candy! Guaranteed to satisfy all sweet tooths and have your children begging for their next chance to be a kitchen slave!

Preheat oven. Bake your pizza at 475F or 250C for 15 to 20 minutes or until the crust is golden brown and the cheeses are melted and bubbling.

Oh mamma mia, every night should be pizza night! Buon appetito!

Because it's so hot...

I thought I would share with you these sweet and icy treats:

If we were in a St*rbucks and this boy were a drink...

he would be an Iced Caffé Mocha. Velvety smooth chocolate, and sweet.

This one would be an Iced Caffé Latte, rich and creamy.

and this little ball of fluff would be an Iced Caramel Macchiato, so sweet and irresistible!

Take your pick, and GET THIS: These sweet cold little things are calorie free!

Doctors: Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em...

...or can you? From now on I'm going to try to avoid them until I learn how to control my blood pressure.



***Warning to my male readers*** this rant contains mention of things that may make you cringe or make your toenails curl, so you may just want to skip it.


Tuesday I went to our assigned family doctor who must give prescriptions for visits to any other specialists, in order to request more prescriptions for my upcoming prenatal visits. At my last prenatal visit we had been asked by the midwife team at S. Anna to request a basic "Certificate of good health" from him. The doctor said that was an unusual request and asked M for clarification. M told him that the midwives needed it for their records. At this point the doctor became very openly critical of our chosen birth plan, and I felt the need to defend our well thought out plan that we are sure is the best for our family. Our professional caregivers at S. Anna have agreed and are managing my pregnancy and impending birth. I must say here that I already do not like our general/family doctor due to previous inept actions regarding my children’s health. I tried to keep my mouth shut and let M do the talking with him, but inside I was stewing. At this point the doctor took my blood pressure and I had my very first high blood pressure reading of my life. I am always below the norm of 120/80, but not after feeling emotional over this doctor’s criticisms. The Dr. then said he absolutely could not sign a certificate of good health for me, and that my husband in fact had to take me to the Sant’Anna emergency room. Now.
Within 20 minutes we were home and I re-took my blood pressure. It was down from 150/95 at the doctors office to 117/75. That was more like it! At my last prenatal visit my bp was 114/60.
We still went to the ER as requested, but they were closed. This was also the first time in my life I have ever seen a "closed" emergency room. Ha!
The next morning after waking my bp was 102/53. That surely isn’t dangerously high, but we went back to the ER as soon as they opened at 7am.
After arriving there and telling them that I needed to have my blood pressure checked and explaining that I felt it was an emotional reaction to the Dr. rather than a real medical issue, they took my bp. It was awful, just in re-telling how critical the Dr. was yesterday I could literally feel my heart pounding. They took my bp. It was 150/80. Damn.
They said they would keep me for the day and run tests. Next I went in for a consultation with a doctor. M and I gave my medical history, and showed him all of the records of the pregnancy thus far. Then I was instructed to go undress from waist down in the bathroom. I was angry. I had come there for high blood pressure, not a gynecological exam.
As I am sure all of my fellow female expats know, it is NOT customary here to be given a robe or a little cover or anything. Until now I have always dressed in a skirt which allows for a little privacy when I have these internal exams. But this time I was unprepared. I was going to have an exam and the doctor didn’t even tell me why.
Half nekkid, I re-entered the exam room with three strangers in it and climbed up onto the exam table. Unfortunately I cry more easily when I am angry than when I am sad or happy. So there I was on the table after doing the strip and spread ‘em, trying not to cry. I was snuffle-snorting and my breathing was shakey, and tears were still finding their way out. This was not one of my finer moments. Then I heard the doctor tell the nurse "Si, e’ incinta." Yes, she is pregnant. I became livid with anger. This genius had a glove and so he decided to do an internal exam just to verify that I was pregnant! Folks, this is not uncharted territory! We had already shown him all my prenatal records that have been taken up to this point. Then, I guess just because this doctor is a little "slow" he used a doppler to hear the baby’s heart beat. Yes, pregnant, for sure. Not even that sweet sound could bring me out of my funk.
Immediately after the exam he said the nurse could take my blood pressure. I glared at him and screeched sarcastically "Bravo! Now that my systolic pressure is surely above two hundred!" At the same time my husband was telling him "Absolutely not, she must be allowed to relax first." and the nurse was saying "Oh no, we must wait and give her some time." With as much dignity as an angry half naked pregnant woman can muster, I  stalked back into the bathroom and picked up my clothes off the dirty floor as there had been no other place to leave them. Patients here really get no frills.
I glanced in the mirror and saw my angry eyes and then quite shockingly these bright red blotches that looked like a terrible rash all over my neck and chest. Really weird.
I showed the nurses, and they said that I was probably allergic to doctors. Boh. I don’t think I am allergic to all doctors, but certainly that one!
After that adventure they took my blood for various tests and asked me for a urine sample. I drank a liter of water, and said "You’ll have it within 5 minutes." After all, I am pregnant, and usually that is an extremely easy request to fulfill. Not this time. Twenty minutes later, I had a delayed reaction to that exam I felt I had no power to resist, and had tremors for a few minutes. I was shaking like I was cold, and my teeth were chattering. Finally that went away and I was able to go to the bathroom.
Next they sent us to the second floor for an ultrasound. That was the only pleasant part of the day.
Later they took my bp again and it was 130/80. Still too high. After a dismal lunch my test results came back and they sent me for a consultation with an internal medicine specialist. She said all my test results were normal and that she would sign the "Certificate of good health" needed. She also agreed with me that this high blood pressure was emotionally based rather than a physical problem. But she warned me that I needed to find a good way to relax because for the birth plan I have chosen the rules at S. Anna are stringent and they have a very narrow view of good health. She feels that I may be able to improve my bp by losing some weight and exercising. So she gave me a diet to follow that looks rather easy. I only need to make a few simple changes.
Next we had to see another doctor from the ER who reviewed all my records of the day. Finally I was free to go home after 2:30 pm.
What an exhausting day, and if you have read all this then you must be exhausted too, and I am impressed!

Blue!

I feel I am a terrible blogger; I need to respond to the lovely people who left comments on yesterdays' post. I love receiving comments. I also need to get caught up on all of your blogs! (I will, I promise).

This is just a brief update... today I spent a stressful day at the Pronto Soccorso, the ER. All is well that ends well, and later or tomorrow I will fill you in. I am just exhausted now, and need to relax. I am so happy to be home.

The silver lining of the storm clouds in this story was having an unexpected ultrasound. The technician said he could see what variety of baby I have... It looks to have a little pisellino, so, we are thinking blue! I am absolutely delighted with the emotions I have, knowing what this little one is. I would have been as happy to have a girl, but somehow knowing the sex is making me feel more connected to the little critter. I also know that ultrasounds are not foolproof and maybe I really have a girl. Time will tell. That and my official anatomical scan is still set for next week.

Yawn. I am off to take a nap now.

Hello?

*Warning, not for those with weak stomachs. This post contains mention of "stinky" things.



After seemingly abandoning my blog for so long, I hope the following conversation can at least partially explain my absence, if not totally excuse it.




M: Before we go, do you have everything you need?


Me: Yes, I think so.


M: Plastic barf bags?


Me: Yes.


M: Candy? (Referring to the strong sugarless licorice candy I always carry in my pockets nowadays).


Me: Yes, I couldn’t survive without it y’know.


M: Handkerchief? (Referring to the heavily fragrance laden tissue that I always carry in my pockets nowadays).


Me: Yes, I am ready.


M: Well, it looks like we can go, but do you have to go to the bathroom first?


Me: Oh, you're right, I better go do that. I am highly suggestible this way. That and my bladder capacity has recently decreased.


Finally we are ready to face the gauntlet of cigarette smoke and other "strange smells" that will assail my poor innocent nostrils on yet another of our visits to le ostetriche, the kind midwives of Santa Anna.


What amazes me nearly as much as finding out that I am pregnant again after ten years (ten years people!) is that every clinic or doctors office or hospital that I have had to enter recently always has a crowd of smokers outside the door. I literally have to breathe through a perfumed handkerchief while running and gasping and telling my stomach to please not revolt. I hate throwing up, but hate even more when it happens in public. When I am not pregnant I don’t mind smelling smoke, as long as I am not eating, but it is merely a slight annoyance. But now, cigarette smoke is the kiss of death, and when I smell it, the scent lingers in my nasal passages for hours, tormenting me. Having gone through this twice before, I know that my sense of smell will return to normal after the birth of the baby, but for now... if I leave the house, I must always carry my "barf kit".


In my previous two pregnancies, I endured the morning sickness which was really morning, noon, night, (actually any time I was conscious) sickness for the entire length of the pregnancy! This time though, I already feel quite hopeful. I have moments during the day when I don’t feel sick at all, and only strong smells bring it on. I would love to have a more "normal" pregnancy, like the many women who begin to feel better between their 14th to 16th week.


I am past that and am in my 19th week of pregnancy now. But things are definitely looking up. I still can't eat out in a restaurant because of the many smells, but especially for the scent of coffee. That affects me nearly as badly as cigarettes.


I can more easily cook meat for my family now.


Just this morning I went for a walk. I actually left the sanctuary of my house without having an appointment somewhere! I left for the pleasure of seeing the wild flowers in the grass, and the blue sky and sun shimmering the green leaves of the trees. I love that we have a park so near our house. This morning I discovered that although the park has quite a few people in it early in the mornings, they are usually joggers! Joggers don’t normally smoke, at least not while they are jogging. And there were wide open spaces which makes a quick getaway easier for me.


I have hope that maybe this time, I will be able to enjoy being pregnant. My previous memories of pregnancy include much sickness, moving on to tender breasts, moving on to becoming enormous like a beached whale, accompanied by strange aches and pains and learning to live with less and less sleep at night because really, trying to sleep with a watermelon in your tummy is nearly impossible. I think that this discomfort in latter pregnancy is a training mechanism your body has, so that when you have a newborn that won’t let you sleep for longer than an hour at a time, you are already used to the lack of sleep. Or. You are so desperate for sleep that you crave being able to FINALLY give birth even when that means that the watermelon must come OUT. Anyone less sleep deprived would know better.


The boys are ecstatic and can’t wait for the baby to arrive in December. My youngest often caresses my tummy and talks to the baby. My oldest tells me how beautiful I am and asks many questions. They both are a lot more cuddly with me lately, and I think they are just amazed that there is a baby growing inside me. Me too, to tell the truth. It is an incredible thing to realize. I have been feeling it move around inside like a little fish. Next week will be the ultrasound. If the baby is not shy we should be able to see if it is a boy or a girl.