serre chevalier

Andalousie

luck

So my husband won a trip to the south of Spain.  It would be the first time the both of us would be away from the kids since, well, having kids.

My in-laws would watch them for five days.  It's more like three I reassured them.  Thursday's a holiday, Friday they have school/day care.  There's the weekend and then Monday it's back to school/day care.  Easy peasy.

About a week before we left the day care informed us that they would "faire le pont".  This means they would take the Friday off and make it a long weekend which meant the son/day care option was out. 

No problem I told them, it'll just be one child and not two.  My daughter still had school on Friday.

Then when my husband introduced my mother in law to my daughter's teacher and informed her she would be dropping my daughter that Friday at school the teacher replied "There's no school.  On fait le pont."

But this was a minor point as two other points emerged:

1. My daughter came down with strep with maybe an allergy to antibiotics. 
2. There was no hot water in the apartment. 

A couple of days before we left I ran into the president of the HOA and casually asked if the hot water would be restored anytime soon.  Maybe next week he told me with the tone of a grumpy person who had been taking cold showers for the past week. 

Exhausted we bid the kids farewell that Thursday morning and as I gave my son the last farewell hug and kiss I noticed a mark on his check.  Was that a pox?

Rewind to two weeks before when the day care informed me that there was a case of chicken pox.  I later googled "chicken pox incubation period" and out popped "two weeks".  

Maybe it's a mosquito bite I thought.  Besides what could I do? Our ride to the airport was here.

"Um, ok we're off." I said to the in-laws hugging them goodbye "Remember everything's noted including the doctor stuff, you know, in case. Bye!"

That night we called them from Spain to see how everything was going.  They told us everything was fine and that the weather was lovely so the kids could go outside to depense their energy and not feel so cooped up. 

The next day we checked out of the hotel:

Receptionist: Do you need another day of parking?
Husband:  No we're parked just in front.
Me:  Red car.
Receptionist:  Red car???
Me:  Yes...
Receptionist: Hurry go! I called police!
Me: [Run outside.  Sees two policemen next to car.  Put on big niave tourist smile] This is us.  Sorry!

Now had this been in France I'm sure I would have gotten a lot of grief and maybe even towed just to teach the stupid tourist a lesson.  Instead I got:

Police: It's ok.  They called us.
Me:  Yeah I'm sorry I know. But we're leaving.
Police:  It's ok.  No stress. Ok.  No problem.

Then the receptionist came out and apologized to us. 

I was amazed.

My husband called his parents to tell them of our luck.  My mother in law told us she suspected our son had chicken pox.

They went to the doctor that day and it was confirmed that my son did indeed have chicken pox.  He was to take two baths a day and was not to go outside.  So basically my in-laws would spend their time heating up water for his many baths and finding ways to depense their energy indoors.  And it's so nice outside my mother in law lamented.

My husband and I listened to all this while sipping sangrias on the private rooftop pool bar at our hotel.  Panoramic view included. 

The next day my husband woke up to his phone ringing.  It was his parents.  Apparently there was no electricity in the apartment. 

They're completely panicked he told me.  They're obsessed with turning on the t.v. They even said they would take the kids to Normandy. 

Now I understood how an elderly couple taking care of two young kids, one which had chicken pox, stuck in an apartment without hot water might find no electricity to be a tensy wensy bit stressful. 

Luckily with the help of my husband they got the electricity back on.

Don't worry we reassured them we'll be back tomorrow.  And we were, late, around one in the morning.  Did I mention they had a two hours drive ahead of them to get back to their own bed?  And that my mother in law had to work the next day?

Before they headed out my husband threw out the idea of us heading to Normandy for the long weekend ahead.

And this women of whom I have never seen deny her beloved son anything, said: We're going to need a couple of weekends to ourselves. 

I don't blame them.  Not. One. Little. Bit. 

spectacle

So I got an email from my daughter's teacher requesting that children wear one color for the end of the year performance.  I sensed this would not be easy.  Children's clothes always have something on them.  I rummaged through her closet and managed to put together an all white outfit.

I showed my husband. 

Husband:  White's not a color.  
Me:  Who cares?
Husband:  The teacher sent a list of colors.
Me:  Oh.  What's on the list?
Husband:  Yellow, red, blue, green, orange, or purple.
Me:  [Sensing further complications].  Is pink on there?
Husband:  No
Me to daughter:  What color do you want?
Daughter:  Pink!
Me to daughter:  What color do you want that's not pink?  How about red?  It's a dark version of pink.
Daughter:  No!
Me:  What about yellow? 
Daughter:  No!
Me: Blue?
Daughter:  No!
Me:  How about orange?
Daughter:  No!
Me: Purple?  You'll be like a beautiful princess riding on a magical poney.
Daugther:  No!
Me:  Ok you have to choose. [Start the list again]
Daughter:  Ok yellow.  But with fairy wings!
Me:  Ok... I'll see what I can do. 
Husband:  Don't forget the shoes.
Me:  What? Shoes too?
Husband:  She said "why not shoes too"
Me: ...

So being a working mom on to the internet it was.  Things I learned:

-Clothes on amazon are ugly
-Patterns are trendy at H&M
-I do not know the magic search words to pull up top and bottoms of the same color except pyjamas (Which I decided against since I am in France after all and I could already hear someone saying "Is that child wearing pyjamas?")

I complained to my co-workers.

Co-worker:  Why do you even bother I'm sure there will be a lot of kids not wearing one color.  I'm pretty sure a lot of them didn't even read the email.

So I told him the story of the elves.

When my daughter was at day care they requested the children dress up as elves for the christmas show.  By the time I got around to it anything under 20 euros was taken (elves must have been a popular theme that year) so we'd have to shell out more than 50 euros for a costume that I wasn't sure my daughter would want to wear anyways.  We didn't think we'd be the only ones that thought that way so we didn't bother.

On the day of the Christmas show we got there and you would have thought that we landed in Santa's workshop with the amount of kids dressed up as elves.  Fake nose, curled up shoes and all. 

My daughter, on the other hand, wore a purple Frozen Anna dress.

Maybe nobody noticed? 

Or maybe they did.  So in order to avoid this I trekked to H&M on my lunch break and found a yellow dress.  No wings.  No yellow shoes.  You can only do so much. 

paris is burning

So yesterday I headed into Paris for a happy hour and as I got on the metro I noticed two millenials joking around about something.  "I have to see this" one of them said "Paris is burning".

A rather strange thing to say but I didn't think much of it as I assumed they were referring to some cool young person's thing like a concert or perhaps some French version of burning man.

Then when I switched to line 10 I noticed the next metro would arrive in seven minutes which usually signals a problem as parisien metros usually come ever two or three minutes.  Soon after I heard the annoucement "The stop Cluny - La Sorbonne is closed as requested by the Paris fireman".   It didn't concern me too much becaues Cluny - La Sorbonne was two metro stops after mine so I continued on my way. 

I finally got on the metro it was packed so I could see the smart phone of the guy beside me.  It drew my attention because on it was an image of a building on fire.  A building that looked like the Notre Dame.  But of course it couldn't have been.

When I finally got to the happy hour I apologized for being late and casually mentioned how apparently there was a building on fire somewhere in Paris.  They all looked at me.  Yes they said, the Notre Dame.  Oh that's what I thought I replied but then again it couldn't have been...

We all decided it was rather pointless to sit around having drinks so we decided to go and see.  So together, the five of us made our way through the Latin quarter as parisiens, expats, and tourists sat in bar terraces on this warm Monday night for drinks.   During the walk we reminisced about our Notre Dame experiences.  In some way or another Notre Dame as been part of our Paris landscape, physically and experience-wise, this landmark created over 850 years ago on what is considered the oldest part of Paris, an island from which all distances in Paris are measured, it's very heart.

Paris is burning.

As we got to St. Michel we could start to see the smoke.  And the people. Parisiens, expats, and tourists all gathered together by some invisible force compelling us to see.  To bear witness. 

As we made our way closer we saw saw Notre Dame's iconic towers still intact abeit with smoke still rising out from behind them.  Although not visible, the presence of flames were insinuated by a steady stream of water directed at the roof.  What struck me was the how little the stream of water appeared next to the giant structure and how futile its task seemed.

After a while part of the group wanted to get closer but I chose to leave with a woman whom before that night was a stranger to me and with whom I would share this exceptional experience with.  I left the group feeling a bit lost, not knowing where I was and ok with just wandering until I could jump on the nearest metro.  We ended up crossing Pont Neuf to the left bank.  On the way we chatted about our lives in Paris as expats.  Our kids.  Our work.  What struck me was how normal everything seemed but yet, not.

When I finally got on the metro as usual I saw everyone looking at their smartphones.  Before I often wondered what people were looking at, what they found so mesmerizing. But on this particular night I knew.

Paris is burning.

busteni

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