Only Chalk, Re-Visited

Well yes, here I am up this late... with the wee one, and ha! I have the temerity to think I can write a semi-coherent post. We will see...
I actually feel great, since I got to sleep for more than three hours in a row without interruptions last night. I hope this continues. He seems to sleep better at night if I keep close physical contact with him in the hours leading up to bed time. (Read pack him around while cooking, and eating dinner, and letting him have unlimited nursing time). It is worth it, my sleep is precious to me!-and for that reason I will be a human pacifier if I have to.
Funny story: Remember I blogged recently about my boys playing with sidewalk chalk? Yesterday Matthew was outside drawing in front of our casa on the sidewalk because the rain had washed away their previous art. An elderly lady (a stranger, not a neighbor) came by and was very unhappy with Matthew for drawing on the sidewalk. I keep telling him to not speak with strangers, but he did, and boy, was he stubborn.
The part of the conversation I heard was her telling him that he was making the sidewalk dirty. (That is funny to me, because here in Torino one of the things I find frustrating is that most dog owners refuse to pick up the poo their dogs make all over the sidewalks. You must walk with attention. And there is worse, much worse to be found on the sidewalks even in the nicest of neighborhoods, but I won't name them as this is a family blog; suffice it to say I had to tell my boys that they are NOT balloons, and to never ever touch them. That is the shame of Torino, not little sidewalk chalk drawings by children). Where was I? Oh, yes. The old lady was telling Matthew that he was making the sidewalk dirty, and he was insisting that he was drawing art. He tried to reassure her by telling her that it was only chalk and would wash off with water. She told him she guessed he would be the one cleaning it up with a mop. He told her again that he was only playing, and that it was ok to use the chalk, that kids in America use sidewalk chalk to play often. She insisted he was making the sidewalk dirty, and told him he was not a kid, and what did he know of American kids. He told her he was an American kid, and so she grilled him about where he was born (America)! She wouldn't believe he was anything other than an Italian teenager, when he is only ten and a half. She told him even so since he was in Italy, all he was doing with the chalk was making the sidewalk dirty, not making art. He insisted he was a kid, and an American one, and that he was making art... he persisted (I told you he was stubborn)... she finally went away. But not before she mystified him by pointing to a jet overhead and proclaiming that it was an airplane going through Italian air, over Torino Italy. Poor boy. What do you think? Should I teach him "When in Rome do as the Romans do" and for heavens sake don't play with chalk like American kids do? It is pathetic and funny all at once and all I could do yesterday was laugh.

Today we went to the center for a little walk.

Because as you can see, the sun was shining!

Gratuitous photo of baby:

And another, because he makes me smile!

See what I mean?