When in Rome-5

The difference between two parents watching a baby and one parent watching a baby is sort of like the difference between swimming with two arms and trying to swim with one. Catherine's been spending a lot more time at the archives lately, which is good! That's why we're here, after all. And yet, flying solo with the U.S.S Vomitorium takes a little ingenuity. Mostly, I try to convince him that he has a perpetual sleep deficit and that it is always nap-time. If dramatized, imagine something like this.

Act 1, Scene 1 La Vita Dolce con un'Piccolo Bambino

Enter characters Dad and Baby

Me: Well, that was a hoot playing around for a while, kid. I'd like to read a book now. How's about a nap?

Baby: *blink blink*

Me: Great! Into the holding crate, I mean crib, with you.

Baby: *stretches out* *pushes up really hard* *looks at me with huge baby eyes*

Me: Sleepy, right?

Baby: *cries, throws up, and endangers two buses of civilians both equally far away but one is full of old grandmas and the other is full of convicts*

Me: Not sleeping and setting up a moral dilemma? Guess you don't want nap-time

Scene

But no, in actuality he sleeps a lot which is wonderful. And he is just wonderful too. See?

 

Today's plan was to meet Catherine at the Greg around one so we could eat lunch when she got out from reading Jesuit chicken-scratch notes. This baby, however, did not make it easy to prepare sandwiches. He loves grabbing plastic wrap, glasses, barometers, pretty much anything that looks distinctive enough that it might taste good in his mouth. After much wrangling, we hit the streets.  

And immediately got lost. But that was all part of the plan (sort of). I suspected something like this might happen so I left an hour and a half early. As the tiny gods of Roman street traffic would have it, we ended up wandering through what I think was the piazza with an important civic building (parliament, senate, something deliberative and political). As well as some more familiar sights (elephant obelisk and the Gesu church)
 

 

But, most importantly, Baby and I stumbled across Marcus Aurelius' victory column (patterned on Trajan's).

 

 

Massive. Even by giant column and obelisk standards. I was intrigued by how each inscription on the base gave a slightly different take on the significance of the column. One, as best as I could make it out, was about how Marcus Aurelius conquered the Armenians and the Germans. Pretty straightforward. Another was about how the pillar was restored from miserable degradation. But one side interpreted the pillar from the vantage point of Christ over the nations. Something to the effect of, Christ has triumphed over the Romans and the Barbarians through preaching and the cross. This encompasses all the other commemorations as Christ both takes men captive and restores them to His image and likeness. A statue of St. Peter is on the top of Trajan's column and a statue of St. Paul is on this one. I'm sure someone must have thought of his letter to the Ephesians and the description of Christ's triumph through the words of the Psalmist. He led a throng of captives when he ascended, giving gifts to his people.

 

Let me also inform you that cobblestones and hills make pushing a baby in a stroller an Olympic sport. Seriously, is this baby bobsledding right now? Are we on the side of a wall? While wandering, we also stopped in Chiesa Santa Maria sopra Minerva which, as its name implies, was built over the temple of Minerva. Now it's the final resting place to Fra Angelico, Catherine of Siena, and (possibly?) Cajetan, as well as a million beautiful side chapels.

 

Only made it up one side with the camera before Baby started objecting. I'll get pictures of the big-name tombs another time. Really stretch out the suspense. Because you never know when dead people will surprise you.

Arrived at the Greg with a few minutes to spare so we checked out the bookstore. What do Jesuit bookstores right outside the Greg and the Pontifical Biblical Institute want you to have? Everything.

 

Historical-critical biblical studies, medieval and patristic commentary, ancient philosophy... the Jesuits just want it all. Then Catherine came out, we ate our sandwiches, and this baby posed shamelessly.

 

che bello! Tomorrow, an attempt at the Sistine Chapel, whatever that is.