I'm on hold.  Again.  This time with an American company, the bank.  We are down to our final five euros, we need six passport photos for our residency appointment, and, of course, money for the evening gelato excursion.  I'd made it three weeks on a credit card, euros I'd taken out of the bank, and the euro gifts of a friend and my aunt.  But with six people, we went through the remaining quickly.  When we went to Ireland four years ago, we intended to get Euros at the Dublin airport.  I don't remember whether our cards didn't work or we didn't find an ATM, but whatever the reason, we borrowed from the kids, who had gifts of euros from my same aunt.  Their gifts became our bank, and we borrowed almost every last euro.  Today I borrowed only one euro from Hannah to buy her bobby pins for her growing hair.  No matter how much we tell her, Keep it short: it looks great short, and it's so easy to deal with every day, she is determined to grow it for a bit.  Today we gave the girls some time to wander four streets in Viterbo by themselves.  Daniel and I were testing out our ATM cards (yes, unsuccessfully, hence the hold situation now), and I gave the girls three roads and two piazzas (Piazza del Plebiscito and Piazza della Fontana Grande) to traverse or sit in until our return.  Within about twelve minutes I felt nervous and went looking for them, afeared of child kidnappers and sex trade (sounds ridiculous perhaps, especially in a quiet little town like Viterbo, but, well, that's where my head goes, or my heart goes, or both go).  I checked the Piazza Plebiscito, walked fast down one street, then up another, looked over at the gelateria (Gelateria Gelart) that we have frequented, then peeked into the shop Tiger, one of the only shops open at 3:30 in the afternoon (the Italians do respect the siesta time; we, on the other hand, get moving so slowly in the morning that we are ready to go out when they are ready for napping...in this way, my solo life of two weeks has changed).  Of course: there were the girls looking at brightly colored pencils and hair scratchers (who knew?) and soft blue clay and so many other trinkets.  On my first day here a colleague and his wife took me to Vodaphone to get a new sim card and then for a stroll around the shops.  They took me into Tiger, saying, "Your kids will love this shop."

I don't know how much independence to give the kids.  Very little at this point, I think.  But I'd like to get to the point where they can walk to the pasticceria and pick up panne or pizza or cornetti.  (Daniel made a rule yesterday that the big kids can have one cappucino a month.  Excitement on this end.)  Or I'd like them to be able to walk to Paradiso (their school, which begins mid-September) by themselves after a month or to bike there if we ever get them bikes.  At home the kids can play video games at the library if they get themselves there.  They can go between houses in the neighborhood so long as they communicate with us.  They can walk to school so long as they are with one other kid.

I'm still on hold.  Captial One has now used over thirty-five of my two hundred international minutes for the month.  My Italian patience is not holding even though I asked God for flexibility and patience on Sunday at mass, aware that these do not necessarily come, but opportunities to practice flexibility and patience will come.  Perhaps I should have asked for something else.  Opportunities to do nothing, to put playing and relaxing ahead of the list of things to do, to be back in vacation mode when I couldn't decide whether to read or walk or write or nap or explore (or, in truth, clean the new apartment).  When I was about eight, I sat at my brother's hockey game and said Our Father's and Hail Mary's to secure a win for my brother's team.  The parents yelled and worried (and this was almost forty years ago -- some things don't change) and gave up.  I sat there smug, knowing in my heart that they would win because I had just asked God for them to win and said the Our Father's and Hail Mary's for security.  When the buzzer sounded, I wondered what had happened: how had my prayers not worked?

Opportunities abound for patience and flexibility here: the lack of reliable hot water and internet; the closed hours at stores, restaurants, post office, banks; the learning of Canvas, a new computer system for work; random sleep schedules for six people; different needs for each member of the family.  Learning Italian.  Resetting my password so I can use an ATM here.