Getting to Italy with a 5 month old

Just after having our apartment packed up, we left for Italy for 10 days with our just-under 5 month old son. I wasn't so sure about doing this whole "fly-across-the-ocean" and changing 6 time zones for fun, but I do really love Italy and agreed that our family needed a vacation before our big move West. Unfortunately this meant that when we returned, we would be making the transition from 9 time zones, rather than just 6, but I was told to worry about that later. In Italy, we would be greeted by my husband's grandparents, great aunt, and cousins. His mother would be joining us in a day or two and then flying back with us on the same cross-ocean flight. The timezones would be tough, but then with four babysitters on hand, we would hopefully be able to do some hiking and get some R & R over the next week or so.

Our flight to Amsterdam went without a problem. It was shortly after the terrorist alert in Britian, so we weren't allowed to bring any liquids on the plane; however, my husband was able to fill a water bottle as soon as we were boarded. It could have been a much longer trip for this breast-feeding mother, otherwise! Our son smiled at everyone on board and was generally happy or spleeping throughout the flight. He made it through our exchange in Amsterdam by waking up and checking out all the people and flashing lights and then passed out on our flight to Munich. By the time we obtained our car at the airport in Munich, about to start on our way down to Italy, my husband and I had bloodshot eyes, matted hair, and itchy throats from the smoke in the airport waiting rooms. We still had 4 hours of driving to do to get to his grandparents' villa in Northern Italy. Ugh!

Luckily our son slept the whole way. What that meant for the following evening wasn't so clear, but it did make the drive down much easier. We had to make a pit-stop for chocolate in order to stay awake the whole drive ourselves. I must admit I got in a few snores, but the curvy mountain driving and the fact that my husband believes in enjoying a faster speed-limit to its fullest, kept my eyes open a lot longer than I wanted them to be.

We arrived a little sooner than the grandparents expected, due to my husband's speedy driving, and sat down to a large meal. It was to be a week of large meals, because that is how the Italians to things!

Moving Company doesn't give you much notice

The movers were supposed to come on Friday and pack and load our apartment. Sometime between when the analyzer guy came to record how much stuff we had to pack and the movers were supposed to come to pack, they decided it would take more than one day to do the whole job. I'm sure they determined this earlier than they told us: at 3pm on Wednesday afternoon they told us they were coming the next morning between 8am and 10am. What?!?!?!?!?
This really shouldn't have been as big a deal as it was because our friends and my father-in-law had been over on Saturday to watch our 4 month old and allow us to get a good chunk of the cleaning and pre-packing accomplished. Unfortunately, I came down with a nasty cold and spent those lovely hours doing pretty much nothing, except I think I did get our laundry washed. I was feeling a little better by the time Wednesday afternoon rolled around, but we could definitely have used that extra day to finish up our packing.
So we managed to finish up around 2am Wednesday night, just randomly throwing things into the "early-out" pile and hoping we didn't forget anything to include for our trip to Italy which we were leaving for in a few days.