ABSTRACT
You grew up as a rather uninhibited baby. In 1977 you were a toddler at only five months old and walked before turning one. You were diminutive and delicate, with a small bone structure and thin, ubiquitous fingers just like your dad. You looked like Giulio a lot, with wide eyes, the tiniest little nose, heart-shaped lips, and a round face. There was something funky and comical about you. You did not break things or get hurt, but were adventurous in your movements and curious in your demands, and therefore were a lot of work. You were always inquisitive and daring, with a persistent desire to learn and I allowed you to make as much progress as your natural curiosity granted. I potty trained you at one and a half years old, spending about fifteen days on the project. And at two you could eat our food elegantly already, at the dining table and with a knife and fork. We were off to a good start, but I did not have the time or help to do it all my own way. At some point it became apparent that I was not going to embrace the role of mother to the point of becoming transparentof no longer having a life of my own. Then I began to feel some criticism, especially from the women in your father’s family.
