Me in Melange

Sumptuous Scarves!

Here is one of Eileen Fisher's fabulous scarf-tying tutorials just in time to rock the colorful scarves of summer! There are so many ways to wear them, and this video gives you the skills to casually toss on a beautiful scarf and rock it like a French woman! C'est cool, ca!!! :)

Day 21 - City of love has protection!

I'm not really sure why I'm surprised by this, but the city of love sells condoms in vending machines outside--I found one next to the  La Pharmacie. Not just one kind, you get a selection of options--you have an "array" of condom choices.

I was in said "La Pharmacie" because I was loading up on some of the first products on my "French must-have beauty hit list".  It's a two page list, I'm not messing around. The French women have incredible skin, and I'm going to get to the bottom of what they are using before I leave.  I'm already starting behind the game though because I read that from age 12 they are taught to do masks and wear sun block.  Oops...I only started sunblock AFTER my high school baby-oil, light reflecting screen, bake hours in the sun phase.  Darn it.

Other than my fixation on the pharmacy and all the potential youth it offers in it's skincare regimes, the kids an I walked all around today, hitting a 50's diner for lunch, the English and then French bookstore (we stopped at Shakespeare and Company again and I snapped my millionth pic of Notre Dame which I never get tired of), two different "La Pharmacie"  establishments looking for Avibon (not so easy to find this vitamin A cream), and then a Moroccan restaurant for dinner.  It wasn't the smoothest of days, but we made it thru.  I've decided if you asked me today what the hardest part of traveling with kids is, I'd say feeding them, hands down.  You couple that with feeding them in an expensive country like France, it's a nightmare.  It's one thing when your kid doesn't like the enchilada sauce on their $3.50 burrito in Puerta Vallarta, but it's another when they decide the "cheese is gross" on a $15 cheese pizza or a $20 croque monsieur--how gross can it be, it's cheese??  Or when you get 3 nectarines and an apple at the fruit stand for $7.50 and then Gia eats about half of hers and proclaims "she's done".  Nope, not a fun part of traveling.

I'll let you know what miracle French products I find...I have high hopes.  OH, and my homeless crazy man haircut---well, yesterday I was ready to book a recut with a real hairdresser, but today, I think it might be growing on me.  Seriously, not sure why, but it actually looks better if I don't mess with it too much.  If I try to blow it straight, nightmare.  If I just wear it tossled and "Frenchie"--then it's not too bad actually. 

Signed, ME {lv}

Day 20 - The battle of the Fleas

Today we ventured to Marche aux Puces de St-Ouen---a large flea market at the end of Metro line #4, Porte de Clignancourt.  I really talked up the flea market to the kids, because I personally LOVE It...all the Parisian flea markets for that matter.  I love digging around and finding treasures, and I love the antiquity and history.   So we stepped off the Metro, and what I had forgotten is that the first thing you are bombarded with is the "other" flea market.  The one where they sell all the cheap crap from China, all the fake knock-offs (bad knock offs, which is even worse).  It's basically a few steps down from Kmart, all spread out into stalls. Horrible.  You are simultaneous bombarded with men with multiple watches on their wrists, holding fake Gucci bags, and showing you a no-doubt stolen, Iphone.  You have to walk by stalls of hooker-esq outfits (see picture of yellow tee mannequin), pipe stalls with incense galore and elaborate pipes, and jewelry stalls where you know your skin would turn green just touching the stuff.  

So in order to get to the cool flea market, you have to go thru the uncool flea market.  The problem is, Ava & Lucia thought the "uncool" flea market was actually cool, and the cool market, actually "uncool".  Thus, the flea battle began.  They didn't want to dig thru little winding pathways and poke into tiny little shops filled with dusty stuff from centuries past.  At one point they saw a long duck head attached to a cat body--taxidermy style, and that bit of weirdness was the highlight, everything else was "mommy, when can we go back over the part with the 5 euros shoes??"  I fought it for a little while, then just gave up.

So I got a brief glimpse into the fun that I won't have until we come back up to Paris at the end of our trip WITH John (I'm going to happily give up a family day together for a solo day at the flea market).   The kids found some crap to buy (I told them that I wouldn't spend one penny of my money on that stuff, but they could feel free to waste their money).  They did.

Later we walked to Jardin Luxembourg, once again, and met up with friends, my dear friends Lani and Becca, and their kids.  We ate in the park, on chairs, not touching the Paris holy grass.  They were visibly self conscious at the quiet of the park and the noise of all of our kids, and I realized that I've managed to totally get over that feeling.  Yes, we are much louder than any other Parisian family we've run into (and to be fair, there aren't that many that we've run into in the city....2 kids seems to be the max here and those aren't that plentiful), and yes, we actually come to the park to play (which is always seemingly in stark contrast to all the people sitting peacefully reading).  I know we get disgusted looks, but luckily for me, I've become a totally oblivious loud American.  

We walked back over the beautiful bridges as the light was starting to change.  Walking in Paris between 6-10 p.m. is essential, the light is too beautiful to miss. 

Signed, ME {lv}

Day 19 -La Bathroom Floor

Today, was short, and I would say sweet, but that would be a stretch.  The two little kids hit a wall, and when we were at the door ready for our expedition, Gia dug in and refused to do "any walking".  I told her we'd keep it short, just a trip to get a few grocery items and then back home.  She didn't believe me and the push pull resulted in another tantrum (the kind that makes you think you should take your kid to a shrink).  The most "sound proof" room in the apartment (to the extent there is one), is the bathroom, so that's where I made her go live out her fit.  20 minutes later I noticed she'd stopped crying/yelling etc., and I opened the door to find that she had crafted a little bed, lied down, and crashed.  She was that way for just about 2 hours.  So my day consisted of that, managing Romeo's moodiness, and we left only toward the end of the day to pick up Amelie (our friend's daughter) so she could come over for the rest of the evening while her parents went to dinner, walked around, and had some lovely adult time.  I was living vicariously, and trying to have the back of my dear friend Susanne, who deserved a solo night out with her husband.

The kids became little urbanites, and went on short expeditions to get croissants and snacks etc from the little boulangerie nearby.  My coffee and croissant was one of the highlights of the day---the croissants really are of another world.   Romeo ate some African Chocos on the couch, I did some laundry and almost had a heart attack when I went in to take the wet clothes out and found the bright yellow lizard perched at the window (one of Romeo's sticky lizards had made the trip thru the wash).  I snapped a picture of a drawing in our apartment....the owner is an artist and has a lot of drawings he's done up and about.  It's everywhere....I think when you are an artist, it just never stops.

That was the day...definitely not eventful (unless you count the traumatic tantrum.)  Sometimes when traveling, you just hit a wall, and little 6 year old Gia definitely did.  I was pretty close.

Tomorrow we're hitting the flea market, armed with loads of sleep hopefully.

Signed, ME {lv}

Day 18 - Cowboy Haircut in Paris

I think we’re officially natives now.  We stayed up last night--midnight (kids---me, 2 a.m.), and slept until late, late morning.  All of sudden eating dinner before 8 p.m. seems downright weird.   

 We spent most of the day doing average, boring stuff….cleaning up the apartment, going grocery shopping, doing laundry.  Then around 4:30 we headed out to actually “do stuff” that wasn’t work (when you wake up at 10:30 or 11:00 a.m., 4:30 comes awfully quick).  We walked down to the Marais district again, and met our friends at an ice cream shop, but almost missed it entirely because I made the huge mistake of ducking into a Monoprix to get Romeo a little toy car to keep him occupied.  What I thought would be a 10 minute detour was a 30 minute ordeal.  Going into Monoprix (target equivalent) at 5:00 p.m. with kids.  Not smart, total rookie move.  So after we manage to get out of there with a much “bigger” little car than I expected, and a bottle of $9.00 purple glitter nail polish (which was a lot better than the black polish Ava begged for), we hit the road again.

 After meeting our friends we strolled around the Marais district for a bit, ended up in front of the Pompidou and the Saint Merri church (very gothic, very cool).  The water fountain and colorful water features were a kick.

 So as my friends and I are strolling around the square, and the kids are running all around having fun, we walk by...the Cowboy Hairdresser.  Self-dubbed, but apparently “well-known” (he said he has actually been interviewed along with the naked Cowboy guitar player in NYC).  That makes him practically famous.

 Now, for a visual you have a side view shot of him in the upper left corner.  He’s probably 6’2”…dark skin, absolutely gorgeous, but sort of homeless looking--in a boho chic way.  He’s got combs in his pocket, and a pair of scissors, and he’s got a little sign up on the wall---in French—but I think the gist was, ‘come get your haircut by the cowboy’.  He was smooth talker, and he claimed to (for a mere 20 euros) be able to reshape my hair, micro snip the dead ends and overall make me look way better.  Next thing you know, I’m getting my hair cut—on the side of the square, to a crowd of hair voyeurs.  I heard a lot about my “frizzy” ends, and a few women came up to him and he spoke in French using the word “frisseé” many, MANY times—I felt uglier by the second.   Just so you know, I actually DID have a haircut right before I came to France—and chopped off probably 4” of hair—so how frizzy could my ends be??

 The story goes (and how much of it is real, and how much is a story, who knows), the “Cowboy” was in Paris after coming for an acting gig that didn’t pan out (I’m hoping by ‘acting’ he didn’t mean porn).  He had lived in Paris many years ago when he had come here to be a model (which I can believe, he was pretty gorgeous), and then moved back to LA, where he became a hairdresser, and an aspiring actor.  Ava asked for his verbal CV, and he confirmed that he in fact had been in only one television show, but he was still going for it.

 This “hair reshaping” took a solid 30-40 minutes…no joking around.  He had this really odd technique that I can’t quite describe, where he twisted the hair and ran the scissors down the length of the hair and then snipped the little ends.  It felt like he was literally chopping all my hair off, but in fact very little came off---I got constant reassurance from Susanne that I wasn’t bald.  At one point he actually said, “this is going to hurt a little.”  Not sure I’ve ever had a painful haircut before…maybe it’s a Paris thing (or at least a Paris thing when you let a crazy homeless man cut your hair in a public square.)

 All I know is that I don’t think he ever washes his combs, and when it was all over he took out some cream to touch up my hair, and Susanne confirmed it was in fact, hand cream.  Hopefully I don’t catch lice.  I felt more crazy for doing the whole thing because of all the people starring, and the number of people who actually took their camera out to take a picture.     

 The cowboy swore I looked younger after all was said and done.  He got a 10 euro tip just for saying that.

 We hit happy hour at a little restaurant down the way, where everything was filling up for another World Cup game.   I think I need to google some stuff about soccer so I’m not totally in the dark. 

We headed home around 10:30, and watched the light fade.  The city looks so full of light, even at 10:30 at night, the sky is still glowing.  I love this city.  I ate 20 pirouette cookies upon arriving home, and  vowed that I’ll track down the Cowboy tomorrow if my hair looks like crap after I wash it.

 Signed, ME {lv} 

Day 17 - Fantasy & Reality

I was so excited to go to Shakespeare and Company today (Diane will be so happy that I was finally at her old stomping ground)!! 

I bought the new Donna Tart book, which I've been wanting to read.  Could have spent hours and hours in there, but settled for the 10 minutes the kids allowed me before Romeo was trying to climb the book rack ladders and Ava was begging to buy a book entitled "teenage love".  the back cover started out with "she was 17, and the most popular girl in school, and she was in love ... "  I read no more, figured I can wait a few years before succumbing to that genre for her, but she threw a fit and proclaimed that she "just wouldn't read anything then".  At least I got something for me, battle won.

We strolled around a bit, revisited some of the sites now that we knew our way around (it's funny how much smaller Paris feels now just 2 weeks later).  Then we jumped on the metro and headed over to Canal Saint-Michel to meet our friends Susanne and Aaron (and their daughter Amelie).  This was an entirely new area for us to explore--and not really too far, and it was FUN.  Much more ethnically diverse, not touristy at all, more urban and gritty than the areas we've been visiting.  It was great, and I loved the more "real" feel of the neighborhood--definitely less affluent area, but more flavor for sure.  The colorful mural above was the "art of the people" painted on the inside of this narrow passage way.  I loved it, loved the colors, the funkiness, the intensity of it.  I want to live in a big open airy loft with bricks, open space, and a big wall covered with this mural, framed in stark white to pop the colors.  

The canal is a beautiful tree lined place, with a great park right near by, and 4 or 5 cute little bridges that bow across the canal.  It was a gorgeous sunny day, and other than a massive argument with Ava about her lack of help pushing the stroller, and a battle over what to eat for lunch, all was good.  

We had dinner at Susanne and Aaron's apartment (they are in Paris for 3 weeks), and had the usual suspects....wine, cheese, salami, olives, figs, baguette...pasta with parmesan and sliced olives for dinner.  It was great, and so nice once again to disperse the energy of "just the 5 of us".  As hard as it's been for me to manage the kids, it's probably been as hard for them to manage me.  There's so many competing interests.  I always wonder if there are parents more aligned with their kids--some utopia where the kids and parents want to eat the same thing, go the same places, do the same thing.  Is that a fantasy?  I've basically just described  the opposite of our situation.  Every day they grill me on what we are doing, and every day they complain in some fashion about it--despite the fact that I think they mostly have fun.  I think the only way I could avoid any complaining would be if Paris Disneyland was on the agenda.  I'd rather stab myself in the eye I think.

It's tempting when I'm writing to describe things as I'd "like them to be"--because there is something about putting down on paper (figuratively) any truth that sounds negative, or unhappy, or looks less rosy than you thought it would look (or want it to be, or think it "should be").  I find myself writing things and then wishing I could write something else.  Like I WISH I could have written, "Ava picked out Catcher in the Rye and they stamped her copy on the way out of the bookstore with "Shakespeare and Company".  She's so excited to treasure it as part of her collection".  Doesn't that sound so nice?   Or maybe it would also say, "Ava asked me if it was ok to buy not only Catcher in the Rye, but Grapes of Wrath--but she was worried that it would be too expensive, and she wanted to make sure I was ok with the purchase."  If you were to ever read something like that, you'd know with certainty that aliens had invaded my body and I was now a pod person."  The more truthful version sounds so much less "aligned".

So what does that all mean?  Well, that the truthful version of this entire trip is littered with glorious moments, and horrible moments, in equal measure.  That I wouldn't trade any of it, but that most days there at least one point that I would trade all the kids (or at least one) in for an hour alone and a luxury pedicure.  I would like to paint a prettier picture of harmony, but then I would be contributing to the unrealistic expectation of mother's everywhere.  There's no way around it, traveling with kids is a huge struggle. Physically, emotionally.....it's off the charts.  Today we left the apartment in the morning, within 5  blocks the kids were all bickering, and I felt for at least a solid 2 minute period that I just couldn't do it, I couldn't handle the day and we'd have to just go back to the apartment and hang out at home all day.  It took considerable will power to keep Ro's stroller headed in the right direction.  That's the truth.  The truth is also that it's been an incredible bonding experience, and that there have been a million indelible memories (and I think out of those most probably don't have to do with me yelling at them---maybe a few--but not that many on a whole.  I guess it's like anything else in life.  There's fantasy, and then there's reality.  Reality is great, but it's not to be confused with fantasy or compared with it.

Signed, ME {lv}

 

Day 16 - Yes you can!

It was a nice full day, made smoother by my 'yes you can' mentality.  We (the kids) slept in relatively late (I got up early and got some work done), it was a gorgeous morning and we hit the road around noon....stopping for Nutella crepes (nice way to kick start your day--2% nuts and 98% sugar on a very thin pancake.  Yum.)  Romeo started in about wanting orange juice, which they didn't have, and here's where the 'YES you can' mentality began.  He pointed to the Orangina soda.  Sure thing, Orangina it is...distant cousin to orange juice, same color if you close one eye and squint. Sure, why not.

Then we headed to Jardin des Plantes, which is a gorgeous park with 1000's of "plants"--hence the name.  It also has the museum of natural history and the world's oldest zoo, La Ménagerie.  It really is a beautiful park, so I forced the kids to stroll for quite awhile without a specific destination, and we finally ended up at one end of the park near the zoo and opted for zoo (vs. natural history museum which we'll do another day).  It was quaint, pretty small really (doesn't hold a candle to a really good zoo), but holds the title of world's oldest zoo, and all the animals are right up close to you, so that made it fun for the kids.  I could have popped right over the fence to pet the Wallaby--I didn't--but I could have.  Again, French sensibilities...no big fences, no regulated fence height (they seemed WAY to low to be regulated).  If your kid is stupid enough to try and pet the porcupine, have at it.

The orangutans were my favorite....this gal in the picture was just hanging out, looking casual but I have a feeling she had a plan hatching to bust out of that place, she had this look in her eye that just said, "watch out oldest zoo in the world, I'm scouting your weaknesses".  She's going Ocean's 11 with her orangutan posse any day now-they won't know what hit them.

We hit yet another carousel (no one is ever on these things mind you, only the occasional tourist).  YES you can, sure, more tickets for the carousel please.

On the way out of the park we walked up the street and fell into the Grande Mosquée de Paris.  Which was a happenstance find, but what an amazing place.   I don't think we were technically allowed to tour it, but as the guy was kicking me out, Ava spoke to him in French and he basically said "well, because of her (Ava), I'll let you all in.  

Ava then found her own "Paris purse" at an open air market we walked by.  They were closing up shop and when Ava pointed out the bag and acted as if her life depended on the purchase, the guy gave it to her for 18 euro.  At least it was cheap.    YES you can, sure, why not. 

We hit a sorbet stand--where we each had the most delightful sorbet ('mommy can I have 2 scoops"?? YES you can, sure, why not.  I only got one scoop of my melon sorbet--but could have eaten two.  

I snapped a shot of the metro escalator, which dove down almost 3 flights--it was steep, and was definitely in a nightmare I once had.  I barely made it up without a panic attack.  If I ever make a horror movie, it'll have that escalator in it.

On the way home we walked by the equivalent of an American dollar store and a flea market rolled in together -- all in one big store.  It had every kind of "thing" imaginable--none actually for 1 euro, but cheap nonetheless.  Romeo begged for a car, so we went in, bought a junky car for 5 euros because my motto, 'Yes, you can' was really working for me thus far.

The girls had "tea" with our landlord's wife, who was very chic in her super cool apartment--she looked younger than me and has 2 boys in their mid-20's.  We all went down there but Romeo quickly pulled a 5 p.m. whine-fest and I got out of there before it was too late.  The girls stayed and spoke French with the natives and confirmed that you could hear EVERY footstep from our apartment (which is exactly one floor up).

Dinner...well, I was hoping it would be at a cute little bistro, but the girls protested and claimed they really, REALLY wanted Chipotle again (yes, you heard me right....bean burritos at Chipotle).  So 4 burritos, 1 beer and 45 euros lighter, they were fed and I had a soft warm fuzzy feeling from my Negro Modela--and a sad feeling at spending so much money on beans and Mexican beer.

All in all, not such a bad day...relatively smooth, no huge meltdowns, and we got to see a the glint in the eye of a mischievous orangutan.  That's pretty cool right there.

I also realized, that despite Ava being a royal pain in my butt for much of the time, that kid has a load of street smarts.  I could drop her in the middle of the city right now and she'd be able to navigate her way home, or figure out the work around.  When we were split on where to eat for dinner she said, "well, the girls and I will go to the Chipotle and we'll meet you at home".  As if I was going to leave a 6, 9 & 11 year old solo in a super busy area of a foreign city.  "And mom, I know my way home but if I get lost, I'll use the McDonald's Wifi and figure the way home on my itouch".  Seriously, the McDonald's wifi.   I spent a lot of time complaining about the energy that she manages to deplete me of, but I have to give it to her, the kid gets things done.  It's much more annoying when she's asking me for the 200th time for a Paris Puppy, but it's also refreshing when, after buying a horrible candy of sugar dust in a plastic tube (a very weak moment in my YES YOU CAN day) she marched into the super packed bakery we had just come out of, and managed to get the scissors she needed to open that packet of cancer enhancing sugar dust.  She took care of business.  No worrying that she was bugging someone, no embarassment, no "can you do it for me"--she just took care of the problem.  I will say this, at the end of the day, that skill is probably going to get her farther than anything else.  That's my kid reflection for the day.  That said, she'll also probably single handedly be responsible for my major investment in botox to paralyze my stress face.

Signed, ME {lv}

 

 

Day 15 - Paris Bling

Let's just say you wanted to torture someone....really wanted to test their bounds of sanity, force them to submit on all levels.  I have the perfect plan for said torture...stick a person in a 950 square foot apartment, for 12 hours with 4 kids while it pours down rain  intermittently.  Only let them go outside for brief periods of time when the torrential rain parts, and force them to try and self-entertain with only their ipads, a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird (one of my all time favorite books by the way) and a Costco size jar of Nutella.

Hello day 15.

Not that it was bad, I don't want to sound entirely negative.  I'm only pointing out that I was subjected to a new, budding form of torture, soon to be recognized by the CIA and clandestine operations everywhere.

We took as many walks as we could, but when it rained, it rained hard (complete with lightening).  I tried to be an educational mom and read To Kill a Mockingbird to the the older kids---disastrous results.  I even offered a trade--a chapter of reading, then 30 minutes of Ipad time.  They weren't feeling Atticus or Boo Radley at all.  Are all hopes of raising an educated child who appreciates good literature lost?  Possibly.  I felt a little defeated.  It's possible that the only things they remember from this trip to the cultural haven that is France, are nutella crepes, bonbons, and mini metal eiffel tower statutes. 

One of our expeditions involved going to one of the passage way stores---the passages are covered little hallways jetting off of Boulevard Montmartre, with loads of little boutiques (some good, some not so good---all pretty expensive).  Lucia fell in love with the Paris bling in the upper left hand corner.  I mean LOVE, can't live without, can't stop talking about, life will end if I don't have it, love.  It is, quite possibly, the ugliest purse I've ever seen.  The color isn't bad, but the entire front is crusted in that bling (of the cheap variety)---you can practically imagine Paris Hilton putting her rat dog in and walking down the street, rat dog looking out the side.  Lucia is in heaven too, despite the fact that when she asked me what I thought, I didn't hold back (she paid $55 dollars for this bit of Paris style--imported no doubt). 

I let Romeo buy an overpriced stuffed bear with an "I love Paris" shirt on.  Apparently we are officially on the hunt to fulfill the "10 worst things to buy when you are in Paris" list.  We did however buy some beautiful roses for our landlord and his wife--they were nice enough to send over their housekeeper to clean the apartment this morning which was so kind of them.  The roses were perfect....and came from this little flower boutique where everything look magical and dreamy.  I wanted to live there.  They smelled almost as wonderful as they looked too.

I snapped a picture of the basset hounds for my sister, because her family is madly in love with their basset hound "Larry", and they would be happy to know that Larry has a distant cousin in the city of love.

Tonight I start my deep and thorough internet research of French drug store cosmetics.  I've heard rumor that their "Pharmacie" boutiques are notoriously packed to the hilt with all kinds of lotions and potions to make you look younger--and at very reasonable prices.   At the very least I know they are going to be packaged well and look cool :-). Sounds good to me.

Signed, ME {lv}

p.s. If you are wondering to yourself "good lord, how long is this woman going to be in Paris anyway, I can't take much more of this!!"  The answer is, 21 days.  I'm keeping this blog up until the very end in order to keep my sanity, to save my thoughts, and to better my spelling & grammar (which this blog has confirmed, is atrocious--even after spell check I find all kinds of errors!!  Initially I spelled atrocious with two "tt" 's---no joke, told you it was bad.  Ha, and I'm suprised my kids don't want to read Harper Lee--chances are they got my IQ, eeeggggaaaaddddss!!

 

Day 14 -Salvation

Remember the day that you went from young person without a washer and dryer, to mature person WITH a washer and dryer?  Remember the feeling, "sweet jesus, is there anything better, I LOVE having a washer and dryer, my life is so much better, everything is easier, why didn't this happen sooner?" You appreciated it with ever fiber of your being, and it felt amazing.  

That was me today, I suddenly got a washer and dryer...but instead of a washer and dryer, it was a FRIEND, I got a friend.  Yes, my friend Raafia arrived in Paris a few days ago, and because I've been so wrapped up in just "managing" each day, I completely forgot that she (and her husband and 2 kids) would be there.  It was an "ahhhh haahhhh, moment", because I realized how lonely I was, how much easier everything seemed when you have adult support and friendship..  We met them for dinner, and it was like balance in the universe had been restored. I got to speak to interesting adults, and the kids got to speak to someone other than ME.  It was glorious in every sense of the word for myself AND the kids.

I'll back up though, the day started out sunny, became stormy, and then went back to sunny.  We ate bagels at the Bagelstein's down the road (only ok bagels, but lovely to order something familiar at the very least).  We went shopping in prep for the storm (the thunderstorms have been insane....huge electrical storms filled with loads of lightening, followed much, much later by downpours of tropical storm like rain.  It's the kind of rain that you don't go out in, let's put it that way.)  It's Costa Rican downpour rain, I didn't even realize they had this kind of rain here.

Gia and I played "go fish"--which she pronounces GOLD fish.  

Somewhere in there we went to this little diner next door just to get out of the apartment--it was a "club" sandwich place....with an entirely complicated menu that was good, but everyone ended up with something slightly different than they ordered.  At one point I ordered a simple "grilled cheese" from the owner (working at the register), and he was so baffled that my kid wanted nothing, NOTHING besides cheese and bread, that he literally gave me the sandwich free.  Because, after all, it was only pain et frommage??!!!  He was thinking in his head "seriously?"    No spread?  No lettuce??  No chicken???  We completely threw him for a loop.  Why the heck would anyone eat a sandwich like that?  Free sandwich here I come.

That was our day really, just eating, shopping, and then coming back to civilization by having dinner with friends.   Gia was in rare form because my friend happens to have a 6 year old--in Gia's class--and you know what that means, lots of 6 year old flirting.  That consists of running around being crazy like a fox, and giggling off the charts at nothing.    You can see Gia is in her element with the boys.

I don't know if I realized just how badly I needed a night with other adults, but Raafie and Edward saved me....I now feel glued back together, and 100% more sane.  I think the kids might feel the same way.

My only commentary, as I come home from having loads of red wine and a little spaghetti (we opted for Italian because it's always a kid crowd pleaser), is that my cookies, good old Bonne Maman--you've seen the jam in the store it always looks really special, but here, less so...good old Bonne Maman makes some tasty cookies, but get this.  EACH cookie is packaged individually.  They aren't big cookies by any stretch, just little things, like a Petridge Farm cookie.  Each gets it's own little package though, and you know what it says to me?  STOP EATING SO MANY COOKIES YOU BIG AMERICAN LARD ASS.  Yep, that's what it shouted at me as I struggled to open the 5th little plastic pouch.  I think I'm starting to understand why French women are so thin.  When you have to make a concerted effort to open each cookie, you are reminded much more clearly how many cookies you've eaten.  I've eaten a "row" of cookies and not noticed--that just doesn't exist here, at least when eating Bonne Maman cookies.  You know how many you ate, because you have to open each tiny little package and think about it.  I'm not going to lie, it's a bit of a bummer. 

Signed, ME {lv}

Day 13 - Sac du Bonbon

It's another lazy Sunday...did I say that last Sunday too?  This officially makes it the SECOND lazy Sunday.

It was a gorgeous day, bright, sunny, probably right near 80 degrees.    I let the kids sleep in late (11:40 a.m. Ava finally came out of the bedroom, but I figured more sleep might calm her crazy so I didn't want to wake her any earlier).  We had a long lunch on Rue de Montorgeuil at one of the few cafés that actually had an "enfant menu".   I've noticed that the French don't make a lot of special allowances for children.  I mean, they make space for them of course, lots of beautiful parks with kid friendly things, but for example, you sit at the café  and they bring your kids real glasses--no special cups with tops and straws. You are sitting on cobblestone, so chances are, if those cups slip out of the kid's hand--it's going to be a million pieces.  I sense the prevailing attitude is, "teach your kid to use a cup or don't bring him to a café.  Luckily, this time Romeo didn't drop anything.  

This attitude is everywhere here, and I kind of like it.  It's a little of "just don't be an idiot" mentality.  There's not a lot of warnings on every little thing--not a lot of extra precautions (like the slippery steps going up to Sacre Coeur---they could have put treads, big signs and warnings, but nope, they figured you'd learn the hard way and if you were stupid enough to think there was an elevator, curse be on you).   It makes me realize how cautious we are in America, and that perhaps we are a little too babied.  We might be losing our street smarts.

I had a glorious Americano, with a teeny little biscuit (I savored it, but i could have eaten about 30 of those  things). 

We then proceeded to do what I love to do best when we travel.  We "immersed".  We had no specific destination except to stroll thru the Marais district.  I knew the general direction on the map, and I told the kid that the only agenda was to walk, explore, and find something we hadn't seen before.  So we did that....walked, got an ice cream, stopped at a little playground in the middle of the Marais, and then strolled past all kinds of amazing buildings (I only casually paid attention to what they were--today wasn't a day for going "in" to anything, it was a day for just being "in" it all.  

On the way back we picked up two baguettes, more salami, and I snuck in a sac du bonbon---mostly because I just love saying "bonbon"---how sweet a word is that?  It makes "candy" sound like a hairball in your throat.

It was a very pleasant #13 all around.   OH...and I fell in love with another pair of shoes--orange and nude, what a delightful combo.  I wore my Hard Tail black fold over ribbed skirt today---it's casual and easy, my version of sweatpants here :-).

Signed, ME {lv}

 

Day 12 - Peach Perfect

The best part of the day, or at least a serious contender, has to be those white  flat peaches in the bottom right hand corner.  They are amazing, seriously, a-maz-ing.  3.99 euros for a kilo...it seems cheap, but I refuse to do the math because I doubt it really is.

Worst part of the day?  The hour of my life I won't get back after the kids got lured in by an industrious homeless man with a dog that literally JUST had puppies, so for "donations" he allowed people/kids to hold them, take pictures, and oohh, and aaahhh over them.   These tiny little things were ripped right off their mother (literally), and then the kids man handled them.  Romeo grabbed one single handed, I feared for its life.   All I could think of looking at that poor mother laying there with 4 puppies sucking away her life was "that's one tired bitch"---and I mean that in the technical sense.  I feel your pain little street dog.  It gets worse, Ava then spent, no joke, the better part of an hour trying to convince me we should take one of the puppies and it could be our "Paris Puppy" and would give her something to do while we are here (because apparently, she's a wee bit bored.)  Since Ava knows no bounds (and doesn't understand "no" in any language--she thought my "Absolutely NOT" response was really a "maybe I'll change my mind" response.   I nearly killed her.

We spent the day wandering around near Jardin du Luxembourg and the Latin district.  It was a late start to the day because Gia decided that her socks felt weird in her shoes and she simply would not put shoes on.  Literally wouldn't do it.  I threatened, rationalized, ignored...I tried everything, but she just refused.  It's that weird stage when their socks feel uncomfortable ALL the time, I would try to find seamless socks in Paris but I know the stage will come and go and sometimes it only takes hours.  I thought about just dragging her out kicking and screaming, but we're in an apartment, people can hear EVERYTHING.  I have to pretend to be a better parent--can't yell nearly as much.

Eventually we made our way via metro to the park, the kids burned off steam, and then we strolled around the Latin district and St. Germaine and I fantasized about the apartments and living in Paris, the views of gorgeous statutes and beautiful architecture everywhere.  I realize that for most in Paris, those views don't actually exist--there are all kinds of "not so pretty" parts of this enormous city, so I don't want to sound totally oblivious.  My daydreaming involves living in the pretty area though.  I've clearly got major door envy, I keep snapping shots of doors that I see around the city---doors mean more here...a bit like the "eyes are the windows of the soul" sort of thing.

What else....truthfully, today was a day that I really, REALLY missed a co-parent.   The kids always test me the most, and without back up, it's not pretty.  12 days solo and counting.  I hesitate to mention the glass of rose I'm drinking right now--mainly because I fear I'm documenting my abuse of a substance, but a girl has to survive sometimes, and you do what you got to do.

On a totally unrelated note, but perfectly fitting since this blog is in fact on a clothing site, I wore my Velvet Sintia skirt from last year today, in black, with a black Hard Tail sexy tank and the Dylan white linen ruffle tank from last year...and the Yosi Samra python flats.  So comfortable, and perfect for the 80 degree day (and surprisingly, those flats are really great for walking--very comfortable)!   I love how the Parisian women dress every day, you don't see people running around in yoga clothes, or spandex, or shortie shorts.  You see women dressed in smart little outfits, that aren't necessarily "dressy" but are definitely put together--like they put some thought it into it.   I've yet to see the yoga attire epidemic here.  Don't even get me started on the men.  Have you seen that movie with Diane Lane and that hot French man that she has an affair with....what was that called?   Aaaahhh, "Unfaithful"--I only remember because I just googled it.  Well, that hot French man, I've seen him maybe 100 times in the last 12 days.  Men can wear scarves here, and look normal.  I love this country.  I'll tell you right now, if I find myself solo, walking the streets of Paris and I happen to trip and fall and a gorgeous French man with a scarf offers to help clean me up in his apartment--I'm going for it.  That's all I'm saying.

Signed, ME {lv}

 

Day 11 - African Choco

First off, LOOK at those glorious flats in that picture.  I stole a snapshot of the shoes on a lady in the metro today...those are Louis Vuitton beige flats with a python tip.  I think I would wear those a million times.  No idea if they are brand new or circa 2000, but I love them and want them!

Day today was filled with ups and downs, but I realized with clarity that your kids are really exactly the same when traveling, it's just everything else that is different.  Some days my kids are angels, they get up easily in the morning, do their homework without asking, take their dishes from the table.  Some days, none of the above.  When traveling, it's the same, but the days they don't do those helpful little things you notice much, MUCH more because you are simultaneously dealing with all the other travel crap (like .... where's the bathroom, what will they actually eat off the bistro menu, how do you transfer on the metro, whose feet hurt from walking, who hasn't gone poop in 3 days etc. etc.).  So when you have one of those "not" helpful days, it feels like it might break you.  So today started off tough with the kids, I got zero cooperation, lots of fighting, and general resistance, but I pressed on with determination.

We took the bus to the Sacre Coeur (the nouveux-riche church of Paris--apparently it's quite young comparatively, and pretty darn decked out.  It's, or so the book said, the #1 postcard picture bought in Paris).  It's definitely impressive, but the youth of the church sort of took the wind out of the sail for me.  Still, it's beautiful, you can't say it isn't (or bad things will happen).  You aren't allowed to take pictures inside (I really wanted to just because I couldn't), and it was 10 euros to light a candle---that makes saying prayers for people at this church much more expensive than other churches).  The kids were dead set on walking up to the top (300 steps) to see the view.  The fine print that they don't tell you as you pay to walk up, is that the steps are incredibly narrow, VERY slippery, and if you are claustrophobic, you are going to FREAK out.  I guess they don't have to, I have a feeling you can't sue the church in France if you fall.  The way up was ok--I did have a "I could have a panic attack if I think about this too much" moment as we circled around, and around, and around, AND around the stairs that were literally one body wide.  We all managed though, carrying the big bag we had, the jackets, AND the collapsed stroller.  

Montmarte, the area where the church is located up on the hill, is a darling district...loads of shops and quaint little bistros etc.  Lucia had to pee and Ava was punishing me for taking away her Ipad for the day, so it wasn't as glorious as it could have been.  We stopped for pizza, I accidentally ordered something that ended up having strange meat on it--none of the kids would touch it (to be fair, it was some funky looking meat), so I paid for yet another "frommage ONLY" pizza.  

Then we started home and by happenstance came across the Montmarte cemetery which was amazing--I'm so glad we didn't miss it.  It's making me rethink the whole "family plot" concept.  This was the most beautiful cemetery, and it really had some of the most incredible mausoleums I've ever seen.  I can imagine being buried here, and generally I prefer to not think about being buried anywhere.  

On the way home we walked by Moulin Rouge...which was anti-climatic, and amidst all kinds of sex shops (and semi-tasteful neon nudie signs).  I hate to admit it, but I was completely disappointed--why did I think it would look super cool like the movie Moulin Rouge?? :-)  It might have been my crush on Ewan Mcgregor clouding my intelligence.

We took the Metro home---I did a transfer again and I'm officially a metro-pro.  We collapsed at home, and then had to go out again for groceries which seemed daunting, but this is when the day turned up a bit right at the tail end.  The majority of the day was filled with kids complaining and/or not helping one bit--fighting and being snotty.  BUT...we managed to go to the grocery store, get two huge bags of groceries, and made it back home without ANY problem, and Ava & Lucia actually helped carry the bags and navigate the trip.  It was a miracle.  It might have helped that I let them literally get any crap they wanted.  I figured if I can't read the ingredients, how can I really be worried?  That's how we ended up with African Choco animal cracker cookies (vanilla cookie, dipped half in chocolate).  Who knows what's in them, but Romeo wanted them, and I said yes.  Viva la France.

Signed, ME {lv}

 

Day 10 - Italian blood shed at the Italian deli.

What's a day without a little bloodshed?  First, the good part (or at least better part).  We took two metros (yes, I figured out a transfer) out to the Parc de la Villette...which was an interesting variation of a traditional kid park.  It had a play area with all these funky kid things...like an area to bounce, and these mini zip lines.  It was free, and they had great relaxing chairs for the parents so you could space out while your kid played in the enclosed area (there was actually even a security person at the entrance, so you could safely leave your stroller).  Kids had fun, even without the traditional swing and jungle gym.  Next stop right up the road was the enormous modern looking building in the picture, the Cite des Sciences et de l'industrie--inside of which is the Cite des Enfants, which is a kid interactive, science bent play area.  It's in every tour book, and gets a lot of mention, so I figured it would be fantastic.  Kids had fun, but I struggled to not hate it.  I know I'll get parent demerit points for saying this, but there's nothing I like worse than going into these incredibly crowded kid places, with 4000 kids screaming and yelling (and pushing, I can confirm that French kids are as pushy as American kids, and not as demure and polite as I would have like to romanticize).  I know the kids had fun, but for $50 (for a 1.5 hour slot) , I could have skipped it.  I know, I know...I should love showing them interactive science crap for the betterment of their minds.  Hey, I took them didn't I?   Big sigh....

We hit the carnival-like park attractions afterwards, Carousels are big in all the parks, and then of course, there was the cotton candy.  I felt guilty for getting them all that sugar, but maybe French sugar isn't as bad?? :-)

Upper left hand corner was a store window display for a textile store, with hanging bolts of the most beautiful fabric.  I could spend hours in there, I just know it.  I also snuck in a picture of our favorite bread...Eric Kayser bakery.  Wheat bread?  What's wheat bread??  

OH and then the bloodshed, can't forget the bloodshed.  On the way home we stopped at the Italian deli to pick up the ravioli of the day (pesto cheese), olives and salami.  The place is teeny tiny--and it's 5 p.m., so people are coming in and out and it's packed.  I leave Romeo in the stroller outside with Gia (within eyeshot), and I'm ordering, Ava & Lucia are in my grill to order this or that, and next thing I know Gia is inside and Ro is out by himself.  So I move Ava outside, tell her to watch Ro while I pay and turn around to pick up my food, and Ava had decided she wasn't much down with babysitting, so she turned her back on Ro and he of course took that moment to stand on his stroller, and then ceremoniously fall back onto the corner of the glass door.  Big screams, lots of crying...blood from a cut on the back of his head (which might still need stitches, it's so hard to tell).   The pharmacy next door was saintly and gave me gauze and washed it clean--and that was the end of our day.  I think he's fine, at least a scar on the back of the head won't affect his chances with the ladies.  

I'm officially tired.  Long day, lots of kid noise, and the one thing that is keeping me going right now is a simple few words from Ms. Anni Kuan.  She said, "This is the best time you are having NOW!!! You better know you are such a lucky woman!"  So I'm going to have gratitude right now, gratitude for the fact that I have 4 beautiful children, that we are in a beautiful place, and we experiencing amazing things together--not all of which have to be perfect to be meaningful.  Gratitude that I get to fall asleep tonight with Romeo and Gia in the same bed which I love, and I get to know that within just a few feet all my children are safe and near me.  It's a wonderful feeling, and in that moment all my frustrations of the day, all my mini quarrels with the kids, my achy feet, the bloodshed, the cotton candy sugar crash...it all melts away, and I'm thankful.  (if I can just learn to be less frustrated in those moments throughout the day, life would be golden--it's a constant struggle, but maybe it's suppose to be).

Thanks dear Anni.

Signed, ME {lv}

Day 9 - Rain, Fish and more Macaroons.

There's always a feeling when you are on vacation--doesn't matter where, Hawaii, Paris, Mexico,  when it rains that makes you say "Huh?  Rain?? That's not in my plan!!"  Of course it rains in Paris in the beginning of June....a smart person would have packed multiple umbrellas AND rain slickers.  That person was not me.  Today it rain, and not a delicate drizzle that burns off in a few minutes, it rained like it meant it.  We were ill prepared.

So by the kids' choice, we picked the aquarium at the Palais de la Porte Doree as the activity today.  It took way longer on the metro to get there than I thought, especially because not once, but TWICE I sent us going in the wrong direction.  Yes, it actually did take me that long to figure out how you knew which direction the train was going.  I'm embarrassed to admit that, but it's true.  We arrived in the pouring rain, but luckily were super close and the aquarium itself was amazing.  Smaller, but not crowded at all which was fun for the kids--they had the full reign of the place.  My favorites were the unicorn fish (I have to make up my own names since I didn't pay attention to anything technical), the moroccan printed sting ray, the pink spaghetti, and the albino alligator (I felt bad for that guy, he look seriously left out by the the other alligators).  

We hit a crepe restaurant afterwards, where the older two girls ordered caramel crepes and ate about two bites and then announced they were "too sweet".  What, the caramel filling wasn't a giveaway that it might be really sweet ??  Annoying.

We then hit our favorite food spots, and armed with more macaroons (I can't stop eating these, it's almost criminal how many I've had-- I'm going to need John to bring me my maternity jeans),  lentil soup, baguette, fruit and cheese, and we headed home.   Ava's carrying the water bottles on her head in the pictures.  She has a flare for the drama.  The kids just declared that the lentil soup "sucked"--or something in that vein.  Big sigh....my biere blonde artisanale is pretty good though.   If you are sensing the common theme of alcohol and food--welcome to my addictions, and the lifeline of 21 days in Paris with your 4 kids solo :-).  

OH, the big, BIG news, is that I'm almost French.  Well, only by my own declaration, but I think it's pretty clear the people have voted.  I had not one, not two, not three, but FOUR individual instances where French people have come up to me and asked me something about directions, or where the metro stop was-- or something.  At first, being the suspicious person who read all those traveler alerts about "scams" I figured someone was trying to sell me something, or steal something.  Not true, these were totally normal French people (two women, and two couples), out of their own hood for one reason or another, and they thought I might know where they were or where something was---ME--ha, that practically makes me French!!  (Ignore the fact that I didn't have any clue where they needed to go or couldn't help them in the least.)  The kids said after the 2nd time it happened that I needed to be quiet, stop saying "je ne parle paz Francais" --apparently my accent makes it clear I do NOT speak French--and let them talk.  So today a couple approached me as we left the apartment looking for an address of a business---and Ava helped them in French, because it was RIGHT there, and we (she) actually knew where it was.   

Tomorrow the weather is going to be great (or so my iphone reports), so I am excited...I'm ready for some warmth.

Signed, ME {lv}

Day 8 - Day-O-Rest

We took a breather today from the walk-fest in the cultural mecca, and recognized that everyone was a bit tired, and on overload (and about ready to kill each other.)   Sometimes you just have to accept that you are tired...and that your kids are bugging you.  The kids are bugging each other too, they are either best friends and hugging, or literally drawing blood.   We needed something low impact.  So they slept in late, and we decided to go to an early afternoon movie since it was raining on and off--Maleficent--which was really good, I actually enjoyed it more than I thought I would.  The movie theater was fabulous, the picture has a snapshot of the espresso bar right in the middle of all the theaters (and they were the big kind, not those smaller theaters they have in the states where they try to cram in 20 theaters in one building but they are all tiny.  This one was GRAND scale.  So we watched the movie in style, and had the most yum popcorn--they ask you if you want "salty" or "sweet" and since I looked dazed and confused he said "o.k., both it is".   It's like kettle corn but not as sweet, and buttered popcorn, but less buttery and more salty.  Pretty delicious. 

Right across the street from the movie theater was St. Eustache, which is a gorgeous church, and it sort of pops up out of nowhere without a lot of fuss (I had trouble even finding a name anywhere on the church itself, I had to look it up on the map later).  The inside was incredible, and we spent some time inside (at least until Romeo decided to talk way too loud and interrupt the people worshipping).  The kids played on the big head statute and Romeo and Gia spent considerable time terrorizing the pigeons.  I feel bad for those guys, since Gia and Romeo have come into town they literally have chased, scared, snuck up on, and otherwise made miserable, EVERY pigeon they have seen.  They squeal in delight, run into people in their pigeon sneak attack mission, and otherwise establish firmly the "crazy American kid" label with their flapping arms and hysterical laughter.  Why do I feel like we are always the loudest people ANYWHERE we go??

We strolled thru the streets near our house and bought more cheese (I snapped this pic when I had only done 25% damage on it), and bought fresh fruit, and a 6 ft. baguette (ok, not really 6 feet, but they are SO long--and even though you think you won't eat it all, you always do).  

We are going to be mellow tonight and just try to save some energy for a longer adventure tomorrow.  Felt good to rest the feet today, and to slow down a bit.  Forecast says rain tomorrow, so we are thinking museum or the aquarium maybe....something indoors anyway.  

Signed, ME {lv}

Day 7 - Swollen Girl Parts

First off, let me say, we HAVE internet for real, hallelujah.  I think tonight, everyone is at peace finally.  My biggest complaint today was that I uncermoniously got my period---yes, it's true, you still have to get your period in Paris.  Weird, I know.  The other day I called the store and Amanda was on the phone with me as we were trying to hash out some work stuff, and during our conversation Romeo walked up to me and said, without even an "excuse me"......"MOMMY, I have to poop, will you wipe my butt".  Amanda of course can hear every word (poor thing, the only good thing is that her view of parenthood will in no way be romanticized ).  Amanda said, "OH, you mean you still have to do stuff like that EVEN though you are in Paris??"  The most beautiful city in the world (or at least a contender for the top 3), and yes, real life still intervenes with gritty reality.   I still indeed, must wipe my 3 year old's butt.  It's not any more pleasant here than at home, believe me.

So, the upshot of all of that is, I'm moody, I'm exhausted, I feel like I'm about to give birth to my uterus (hence the swollen parts). Not sure if that is because I've had 4 kids and my insides are all shredded and are in fact, about to fall out, OR if it's an almost mid-40's thing.  All I know is that it's not pretty, and 2 Alleve barely touches it.  I think I need the stuff so strong it requires an IV.  In this fragile state I took the kids to the Louvre, walked about 20 miles thru a blur of Italian and Spanish paintings, French sculptures and at the tail end, some wild African art (and when I asked Ava to email me her favorite piece, she intentionally sent that picture of the scull to tick me off, I just know it).   It's the end of a long, LONG day...my girl parts feel swollen, and I've just had two glasses of red wine rapid fire (which has in fact helped a little).  Is it possible to actually become an alcoholic in 3 weeks?  I need to google that later.

We stopped into the Saint-Germaine church which is so pretty from the outside, but relatively simple inside.  We walked over to the left bank to window shop in the galleries and antique shops (that was for me, I just told the kids to keep looking for a candy store and that kept them occupied for at least 20-30 minutes).  We then made our way back to our apartment, hitting Monoprix on the way for some good old fashioned "food like home" (as the kids put it).  Basically, Cheerios, sliced bread, and pickles--oh, and cheddar cheese (because they needed something 'not stinky').  I ate 1/2 a baguette, the rest of the soft cheese and 200 olives for dinner.  

The only good thing about getting your period is that you feel like everything makes more sense, and in fact you aren't just a raving lunatic.  You'd think I would actually know that BEFORE hand, but EVERY month I manage to forget when it's coming, and then I spend 3 or 4 days in a huff, trying to hold it together, wondering why it's all SO damn hard and why my jeans feel like sausage casings (I blamed it on the croissants and cheese).  It's like I have amnesia every month, I can't seem to remember that "oh, it's that time"--before it's actually "that time".   Then I get it, and the veil is lifted.  

Sorry peeps, I have no one to talk to here except my kids, and quite honestly, they just don't care to hear about my period any more today, so y'all are getting the brunt of the rant. 

The pictures include the entrance to the Bank of France (made me want to open an account there), a living wall of the most beautiful plants that we randomly passed by, Gia starting in on her Nutella crepe which ultimately ended with chocolate over most of her face and on my skirt.  The Louvre, and a ceiling shot of a room in the Louvre that I thought was amazing, Ava's African scull art, and the picture of the cafe with the red awning is at the entrance to our foodie street (think Whole Foods-meets-Dean & Deluca, split into boutiques, and twice as expensive).

au revoir mes amis,

SIGNED, LV {lv}

 

 

 

Day 6 - Soccer at the Louvre

Sunday is a slow day in Paris....lots of shops are closed, our newly dubbed favorite fruit stand closed at 1 p.m., and by 6:00 p.m. neither of the grocery stores near our apartment were open.  We spent the day wandering around Jardin du Tuilleries, which I had mistakenly thought we went to the other day, but really that was Jardin du Luxembourg.  

The parks are magical in Paris...everyone is strolling around holding hands (you'll note the pictures at the bottom, I had to snap these to remind myself of the atmosphere of "love" in the air here.)  Young couples, older couples, walking, laying down--they love to hold each other, kiss, and show affection.  It's wonderful, and I think it's in stark contrast to our American sensibilities---where public displays of affection aren't really admired.    What would constitute soft porn in the U.S., is pretty much a normal day in the park for a Parisian.

The parks all have hundreds of these green metal chairs--some even recline, inviting for long stays--and they are free for anyone to drag anywhere, to sit and relax for hours.  The parks are clean, perfectly maintained (they don't really let you go on most of the grassy areas--this is probably why it looks so nice),    The parks are really the urban dweller's backyard I guess.  with all of the amazing buildings surrounding the park on all sides, it's almost too beautiful to believe.

We stopped at the boulangerie on the way to the park this morning, where Lucia turned to me and said, "mommy, I want something WITHOUT chocolate."  Huh?  Seriously, that didn't take long.  All my pre-Paris talk "no sweets in the morning, no more chocolate, no more sugar..." and a couple of days of indulging in all of it and Lucia is begging for something else.  Brilliant, I'll have to remember this strategy.

The kids played soccer on the lawn of the Louve (which we didn't go into today, we decided to go on a weekday when it was potentially less crowded).  They played forever on the grass, and it reminded me how the simple pleasures for children are in the end, always the best.  Romeo spent much of the time tossing up his mini blue Eiffel Tower and finding it in the grass.  These were little trinkets the kids begged for at the tourist shops....Ava wants one in pink with rhinestones to bring home (it's the equivalent of bringing home a sombrero from Mexico)---I keep telling her she can find a better mememto, but they pretty much had her at "pink" and "rhinestones".  She also wants the "Paris Girl" tee.  Oh lordy.

Signed, ME {lv}

Day 5 - Late, but here.

The one thing that really separates a "go with the flow traveler" from a not so "go with the flow traveler" is the internet.  Take it away and do you crumble?  Yep, I do, like a house of cards. A few reasons, the obvious of course is work, but besides that, it's the contact with all things "home" and it's the connection to movies for the kids.  You'd think this wouldn't be so important...shouldn't they be reading about famous pieces of art, and writing in their journals in the evening?  Nope.  The protocol has been (and really needs to be to hold us glued together), we run ourselves until exhausted, then stumble home and the kids zone out to something via Netflix or Amazon so they can stop processing (scary that to "stop processing" they actually have to have a movie--which is considered "low stimulus" right now.  Judge away, believe me, I know how it sounds.

SO....Saturday morning when I logged on to check email, no internet...I figured, 'no problem, I'm sure it will work later.'  Later came, and it didn't work. So I called our landlord who lives right below us, turns out, he's  at his "country home" until Monday, and can't reset the internet until then.  I don't know for sure, but I think that he was still ticked off that Lucia compared Paris to Mexico (upon arrival he pointed out a bottle of water in the fridge for us, and Lucia asked if the 'water was bad like in Mexico'--not sure that sat well with him).    Right about the time he said, "not home until Monday"  I felt like bursting into tears.  Hence, the late blog.  It's not Monday yet, but I found an internet workaround--a 'pay for the day' wifi situation, and the website was entirely in French, so I'm not really sure how much they are charging me or exactly how much it costs, hopefully I'm not being billed automatically from Nigeria.

But back to Saturday's explorations.  We took the Metro to Champs d'elysees.  The picture of Romeo's lip was post a metro accident, where he tried to push thru the turnstile and it kicked back and smacked him in the lip.  Lots of screaming, lots of blood.   Took a bit to recover but we pushed on.  We walked along the Champs d'elysees---too crowded, and way too touristy, but I figured we'd knock it off the list.  The best part of that was watching the street performers who did an amazing breakdance/gymnastics/hip hop thingy that the kids loved.   We then went to L'église de la Madeleine which was amazing---it's a Roman Catholic church, and is sturdy, and imposing looking--unlike a lot of the more girly looking churches, this one has power.    The kids were each able to light a candle, and took a moment to take in the beauty.

We made it back on the metro without any injuries :-).    No internet meant extra fighting at night, but eventually they all unwound, and I got to read Wool--which is REALLY good!  

I'm going to follow up this blog with my post of Day 6--while my internet is still working!

Signed, ME {lv}