Sartorial question

I need your help, kids. I would love to do one of those cool style boards like Nicole does over at Making it Lovely, but Georgia is on the edge of waking up and I probably only have about 30 more seconds til she is screaming. I finally did go out this morning and buy that dress that I had been talking about. But now, which shoes? The ones that I am wearing with bare legs (navy suede from COS) are nice and low and comfortable but a bit boring. The red ones (red python from Georgina Goodman) are comfortable, but I don't know about the red. The last pair (navy suede with gold piping from Miu Miu) are really high but they are probably the nicest. I'll be wearing the dress with the blue velvet jacket from Dolce & Gabbana since it is a bit chilly today, same reason that I'll be wearing the tights. I'll just be wearing little gold earrings (to match the gold buttons on the cuff of the jacket) because I can't seem to find the coral earrings that I had planned on wearing.

So, what do you think?!!

(PS Bear in mind, that another option would be to ditch this dress as it is awfully summery. I haven't even cut off the tags yet. Now that I look at it, it really ressembles another dress from Forever 21 that I have in my closet. In fact, it might actually be a bit cooler than this one. Hmm? Need help here.)

(PSS I drained my camera battery trying to snap a decent photo but the light is too weird in my room and it was impossible. This is the best that I could do...)

Editted to Add: I decided to wear the most comfortable of the three because I didn't know how much I would be walking/standing and it ended up being the best choice. Although Sisters 1, 2, and 3 are going to have some explaining to do for not weighing in on time!

Spring has sprung

Wednesday is exhausting for all of us! Georgia just collapsed in bed for a nap before dinner and I am too exhausted to start dinner so I am going to take advantage of the quiet and play on the computer a bit. I never realize how much walking we've packed into the day until I get home and sit down and then never want to stand up again.

We actually got a lot done today, which is unusual for our Wednesdays. I suppose having to get up at 7 am with the girls gives me an extra hour or so that I never used to have... This morning, we did stay around the house so that Georgia could sleep. She didn't have a great night (as I predicted) and even though she didn't seem sick, I figured we must be just on the cusp of some new germ invasion. While Georgia snoozed, I wanted Ella to play something quiet, so she got out her writing paper. Its that special lined paper that we used to use for penmenship. She really likes practicing her letters and is actually getting really good at it, I think. We've started connected/cursive writing, but just practicing loops and things, not actual letters. I am always so surprised to see how well she can sit and work at something. Its frustrating to think about how much further along she would be in just about every area if she hadn't gotten stuck with this awful teacher who is just clocking in. Oh well. Atleast I have time to work on reading and writing with her.

After a lunch of my favorite broccoli and chedder soup that I whipped up, we dropped off Georgia at daycare. I couldn't believe how nice it was outside. It really truly is springtime. I even let Georgia walk most of the way there. It took us YEARS of course, but with such a lovely sunny sky and warm breeze, it wasn't any bother at all to dawdle on the sidewalk.

Ella was begging me to take her to the park, but I had one errand that I really wanted to do this afternoon. I am getting things together for Easter and I've decided that I want to make peeps. We had such good luck making the little ghosts for the Halloween party that I figured it shouldn't be too much trouble. The only thing is, I wanted to find a superfine sugar to sprinkle on them afterwards. I figured I would only be able to find this at G Detou and dragged Ella over with me this afternoon. Well, they don't have it. Worse, they didn't have a clue what I was talking about. I'm not crazy, I know that there is such a thing. I ended up getting colored granulated sugar and I'll just try to grind it up in my food processor I guess. But you never have to worry about leaving a store like that empty handed. While standing in line to pay, I also spied tubes of Tahitian vanilla beans (God! Even through the packaging, the smell was so gorgeous that my mouth started watering), giant Italian capers (I can't remember which recipe I use these in, but I do remember that I absolutely needed them for something.... OK now I am officially turning into my mom) and walnut oil which I have been out of for months and my beet salade is just not the same with this.

Shopping done, I agreed to swing by the park at Chatelet, and we bumped into some friends of ours! Not very surprising, really. Who could bear to stay indoors on such a nice day. We caught up on news from our vacations while the kids rolled in the sand. They are waiting to hear if their son got into EABJM, one of the nice bilingual schools in Paris. Only downside is that the campus is buried somewhere in the deepest darkest corner of the 15th and its impossible to commute there from central Paris. If he gets in, they are going to move, which will be sad for us. Ella LOVES their little boy and I've been friends with the mom, meeting almostly weekly, since our oldest kids were born, 5 years. Anyways, once the kids had sand packed into every nook and cranny, it was time for a gouter. Ella and I went off to find some ice cream and on the way, I bumped into another old friend. This was a bit weird, as it was a guy that I knew before Ella was born and hadn't seen since. He was sitting on a terrasse and I caught him looking at me. I couldn't place him so we had this bizarre conversation (I don't think that he actually remembered my name, either) and it was only on my way home that it all clicked. Still can't remember his name though (did I mention that I think I'm really turning into my mother?)

I'm glad that the weather has finally decided to turn into spring. I have plans for tomorrow night- I'm supposed to meet a girlfriend at the Hotel Meurice for a defile of purses and shoes, which really means, we are going out for free champagne and canapes. I don't think that there will be a repeat of last week's pathetic attempt at reviving my social life. Between the warm days and the evening sunshine, I feel like getting out of this house and enjoying myself. I might even go out shopping tomorrow and have another look at that DVF dress. I need to finally hang up my all black wardrobe and start looking a bit springtime.

Things that I am liking today

Despite the nice suuny sky, doesn't look like I am going out this afternoon as Georgia is acting a bit under the weather. Don't
quite know what she's got, but I have had a few good nights sleep in a row so I suppose that means I am due for an all-nighter. In order to get a post up, I will do a quick list of things that I am liking today:

*Soup
On Sunday afternoon, I cooked up a pot of Jamie Olivers' Tomato and Chickpea Soup (found in his cookbook Jamie's Dinners, which I picked up at The Little Red Wheelbarrow a few weeks ago; its turning out to be a great purchase), so yummy. I just ate two bowls of it for lunch and finished off the last of it. I LOVE this recipe- here is my version:

Saute 100 g finely chopped chorizo in a tbsp of oil. When the oils come out of the chorizo, add two sticks of chopped celery and a chopped onion; saute til cooked through. Stir in one clove of crushed garlic. Add 4 cups of chicken broth, 2 cups of crushed tomatoes (or chopped fresh tomatoes), a lg bag of spinach leaves and a can of drained chickpeas. Leave to simmer for 40 minutes. Puree about half the soup (I use those liquidizer wands). When ready to serve, top with sliced prosciutto, chopped boiled eggs and a drizzle of really good olive oil. Die and go to heaven. Voila.

I suspect that I could eat it this everyday for a good long while before I every got sick of it.
PS: notice the dish? So far, I'm happy with the change- food looks so good in these dishes!


*Fleur de Geisha Tea from Palais des Thes
I am also burning through my box of tea that I got as a present from our friends who stayed in our flat while we were away skiing.
I had smelled it while I was in the shop and thought that it smelled nice, but I like it even more than I thought I would. As I am still trying to watch what I eat, I have been drinking gallons of green tea every afternoon. It gets boring. But this tea has such a nice flowery smell that I would be drinking it even if it wasn't green tea.






*Tetines
And since Georgia is under the weather, she is allowed to hang on to her tetine all day long, even though it is normally limited to bed time. She is just cranky cranky cranky. I got her up from her nap because I heard her making noise and brought her in the kitchen for lunch. She refused everything that I offered her, even though I broke my own rule (normally, in this house, you eat what is offered or you go hungry to til the next meal. Doesn't matter how short you are...) and opened a second jar of baby food to try and tempt her to eat something. No luck. She kept squeaking until I just put her back in bed. She slept another 45 minutes and then I took her temp (nothing), gave her a Doliprane in case it was sore teeth, and now she is wandering around the house alternately playing with her toys and breaking into inconsolable sobs.


*the new brochure from the Opera de Paris
Yesterday in the mail, I got the calendar for the 2010/2011 season of operas and ballets and the paperwork to pre-order tickets. Since I've been taking Ella to see shows this year, I've realized that even though tickets are expensive, they are a worthwhile expense. I really really enjoy going and I just don't know why I always put off buying tickets when it was just for B and I. Ella adores going to see the ballet and, as I've said before, I think that it is just as worthwhile as sending her to ballet class. She probably gets more out of it; as well. I have been pouring over the book and trying to decide which ballets I want to get tickets. Then I mentioned to B that they also had some great operas scheduled for next year (Madame Butterfly, Tosca, Les Noces de Figaro) and maybe we should think about getting tickets for that as well. I was really surprised when he told me to go right ahead and book them, if I wanted. I think I will!
The only downside is that when you buy all these tickets at one time, the total bill is pretty impressive. I don't think B quiet realizes just how much this is all going to cost. On the positive side, I think that I can probably go down a category and still have good seats since the pre-order tickets get the best places.

That reminds me- I did manage to get tickets last week for the Nureyev ballet Le Bayadere. Because I was in such a tizzy Monday morning from the unexpected arrival of the painters, I totally forgot to go online for the tickets until I was sitting down for lunch. I logged on and the website was completely blocked due to high traffic and I ended up getting pretty much the last tickets available. I have 2 seats in category 3, which is good. But they are not any where near each other, so taht is kind of bad. Well, its really bad since I had planned on taking Ella. Hmm. I don't quiet know what I'm going to do abou this, but I figure no point worrying til it gets a bit closer. At worst, I have B or a girlfriend go with me, and take Ella to see something else. Or I could just show up with Ella and hope that someone switches places, or that they just let us sit together anyways.

*My brother's blog
My little brother has taken a sabbatical from work to go an A Big Adventure. He has a buddy who bought a boat and they sailed it through the Panama Canal. Now they are getting the boat ready and will be sailing out of Panama City today or tomorrow for the Galapagos Islands. From there, they will go on to the French Marquesas (I'm trying to talk B into flying out there to meet them). Wow. Maybe this is something that has to go on my Life List. It sounds like an amazing thing to do- a bit scary, but the most worthwhile things tend to be the ones that push you to your limits, right?

A generation of women bred to work

I just wanted to post the link to this article from the Sunday Times of London. I think it is such an excellent discussion of how the work/home balance for women really operates. And it makes the excellent point about the fact that previously women considered freedom the ability to have career and work outside the home. I love this line, 'Our mothers hoped that we would be more independent from men — but they equated independence entirely with money. So while we no longer rely on men for cash, now that we are working, we need them in so many more ways than before.' So true.

Something that I often remind myself of, especially on those days when I feel like I am 'missing out' by staying home with the girls, is that this lifestyle is a huge luxury- the luxury of time at home with my children. Quite frankly, this is probably what annoys me most about French people (read: fonctionnaires. I got caught in the middle of ANOTHER manifestation on Friday afternoon and had to walk home 3 km because there were no buses running. Arg.) who complain about their underpaid, under-appreciated work. When you have a 35 hour work week and upwards of 5 weeks paid vacation a year, you are in a very enviable positon. They work so very little that they actually have the luxury of time with their family, time to do other things, and yet they completely do not appreciate it.

The article also makes the excellent point that modern families have so devalued the skills that our grandmothers took for granted that we've lost all those skills. We now sit rapt before our televisions to watch programs that teach us how to cook, clean, and raise children.

I think that the most interesting point that the author brings up is 'now what?' What do we teach our children? I'm glad that I have daughters but they do make you have to think that much harder about what you want to teach them about a subject like this. I kind of flipped out over Ella's 'Princesse Parfaite' book about coquetterie the other day because she was so enamoured with the idea of being a little princesse who only wore pink dresses and never rolled in the mud, playing with the boys, or went out with messy hair. But then, where is the line between what I want her to be and what she wants to be? I suppose, the best answer is that anything she wants to be is cool. If I want her to be something else, then I should be that way first- I think children definitely definitely turn to their parents example first when they are trying to make-up their mind about things- and if my example is convincing enough, she will be that way. I don't have to say anything. So the question is not, how do I make Ella and Georgia into awesome women? but how do I make myself into a really awesome woman that they can look up to and aspire to be?

Just a normal weekend full of fun...

We had a nice weekend- but it just seemed like it flew by! Its getting to the point that I long for Monday mornings, which is a sad state of affairs.

Saturday, especially, was a complete whirlwind. I made an appointment for Ella to get her hair cut at that kids place up in the the 11th, Mum & Babe. I think I've mentioned it here before. Well, we got off to a bad start when we left late and I couldn't find a plan de Paris to throw in my purse. Then I thought, 'Well, I've been there before two or three times. I'm sure that I can find it without a map.' Yeah, famous last words. As soon as we got on the bus, I knew that I was in trouble. I couldn't remember which stop. I was watching out the window for something familiar but no luck so finally we just jumped off when I knew that it couldn't be any further along. We wandered around, asking people if they knew where the street was but no one did. On the other hand, it might have been because of my bad pronunciation- Keller, is one of those stupid names that looks English to me and so I don't know how to pronounce it in French. Arg. I couldn't find a kiosk to buy a map so I ended up having to go into a Monoprix and search for one. When I finally looked up the street, I realized that I hadn't a clue of where I was headed so atleast it was money well spent. Despite all that, we ended up only being a few minutes late. You would have thought it was an hour, by the reception we got. They were HORRIBLE to us, even though there was only one other person in the whole salon, and she was downstairs getting a facial. They barely acknowledged us when we walked in. They didn't offer to take our coats or the pousette. They didn't ask the kids names. There was no chatting while we were in the chairs. I was going to party so I wanted a brushing that was a little more 'going out' and she said 'no, your hair is far too short. I'll just blow it straight.' And the one who cut Ella's hair didn't even look at me when I was trying to explain to her what I wanted done. When they were done, no one came with us to the coat closet or the front desk so I had to stand around with two antsy kids while all the staff stood around in the back chatting. They acted a bit nicer to the people who came in after us, since clearly they knew them better. I used to always tell people to take their kids there for a haircut but I don't know if I would do that anymore. It is nice that Ella's cut only cost 12 euro (and I'll admit, that it turned out very nice, which is better than the Camille Albane downstairs does for 25 euro) and that the baby can go in the playroom, but still. This was French customer service at its nadir. And this time when I didn't tip, I did not feel the least little bit guilty.

After all that, we still had to get lunch in a restaurant (MacDo, which was a first for Georgia and after she spied the Chicken McNuggets and fries, there was no question in her mind about eating pureed baby food.), go to a first birthday party, go shopping for a PACS present for B's friends, and buy/order a big bed for Miss Ella. I was running so behind schedule that the babysitter was at the house before us. Thank goodness, actually. She ended up feeding our over-excited monkeys while we threw our party clothes on and hustled back out the door. Good thing there was a big glass of chilled champagne waiting for us on the other end of that car ride or I don't think that we would have made it!

Once we got to the party, I discovered that I was not the only person there who had no idea what the deal was with the Pacs. We did bring a present and weren't the only ones but they ran the gamut from a bouquet of freesia to an engraved silver picture frame from Christofle (I'll let you guess which one we gave...) I'd say that the bigger mistake was dressing up in high heels. There were far too many people in a very small living room, so I spent all but 15 minutes standing. I still have sore feet! To think, I used to be able to spend an entire day dashing around Paris in a pair of heels twice as high. Now, I am so used to my ballet flats and Geox that I can't even make it through an evening without needing to pull out my crutches and heating pad the next day.

I am an old old woman.

On Sunday, we were shattered despite the fact that we were home and in bed at 12:30. The people downstairs went away for the weekend so, per the usual, their son had his friends over. At 3:30 in the morning. I got woken up when they came in but drifted off again. By 4:30 I had had enough, as they were only getting louder and I banged on the floor. They quieted down, but then a girl in heels starting walking around their living room and the tap!tap!tap! of her heels on the floor woke up Georgia. Who woke up the upstairs neighbors and Ella. So then at 5 am I had to go down and ring the door bell to ask if the noisy girl could possibly remove her shoes since she had inadvertently woken up another 4 people. This kid was clearly horrified (by the fact that he woke us or the looks of me? Hard to say. I didn't dare glance in a mirror before going downstairs and I can only guess how scary I looked...) and apologized profusely. But I HATE having to ask them to be quiet since Georgia is a such a noisemaker.

That kid, honestly. If she is not screaming at 5 am because she was woken by a bad dream or a sudden noise, she is screaming for her bottle. Or screaming to get out of bed. Or screaming for Ella to come and play. Or screaming at some food that she spied on the counter and would very much like to eat, if you don't mind. There is no volume control on her. Yesterday afternoon, we all laid down for a nap after our turbulent night and I ended up getting up first when I heard Georgia waking. But she wasn't actually ready to get up yet, it seemed. EVERYTHING was making her mad. And so, her natural response was to scream at me. No! I don't want water! NO! Nothing to eat!! NO!!!! I do not want to look at a book! or my toys! or a movie! or your stupid face! Finally, because I wanted to let Ella have a bit of nap, I ended up clamping my hand over Georgia's mouth and hauling her out on the balcony. She calmed down almost immediately. I'm hoping that I have found a magic cure for this problem but I worry that it is only temporary. I put her out there 2 more times before Ella was good and woken up. So you can see why I feel like the last person in the world with any right no complain about noisy neighbors. I just pray that she outgrows this. Some kids are just noisy though. Am starting to wonder if we are going to be forced out of apartment dwelling and into the suburbs because we never manage to shut her up. And she was such a calm baby.

I also managed to clear out our old dishes from our cupboards yesterday and put the new ones in their place. We decided our old orange Fiestaware had to go. I've been looking around for plain white round dishes but all I could find was stuff basically the equivalent of orange Fiestaware. Most importantly, I needed to be one hundred percent certain that it was dishwasher and microwave safe, since I've had a horrible experience with some mugs that I bought at IKEA.* Finally it dawned on me that I should just use my wedding china which was Louvre, by Bernardaud. We've had it for 11 year and use it fairly often, for nice dinners and parties, and not a single piece has chipped. Its not too fancy looking for every day, I figured, so we are going to give it a trial run of one month and see how things go. Then, if we decide to go for it, I'll think about getting another set of dishes for parties, something a bit fancier (maybe this , or this, or this, or this!) Anyways, I hesitated as put the dishes in the kitchen, thinking that it would be a shame to see them all getting chipped over time when I like them so much. But then I stopped myself. If you're lucky enough to own beautiful things, you shouldn't waste your good fortune by hiding it away in a cupboard. You should use them and enjoy them everyday. How it can it be anything but good to enjoy beautiful things, right? Right. So the dishes stay.

Which still leaves me with the conundrum of what to do with the Fiestaware which is in perfect condition, after I don't know how many years of use. Amazing. I suppose that I should try and Ebay it or sell it on Craigslist, but I suspect that B and I will be making a trip up to Emmaus this week to drop it off as a donation. We still have the dishes from our first apartment sitting down in our cave and we've never needed them so they will go as well. Thats one thing about apartment living - it teaches you not to get too sentimental about your stuff. If it isn't being used on a regular basis, its got to go. I'm sure someone else out there will enjoy having and using all this stuff, as well, so that it makes it even more stupid to box it up and store away for some imaginary future life of mine when I finally need it again. I've been thoroughly heartless lately and that Emmaus has been the lucky recipient of a mountain of stuff. Anyone out there looking to stock up a new apartment should definitely head over to Emmaus on boulevard Beaumarchais :-)

* I needed some coffee mugs and I just picked up some nice simple ones at Habitat one day, without checking that they could go in the dishwasher or microwave. After a few months, I started noticing that the handle on the mug was hot when it came out of the microwave- even when the contents were still barely warm. Then, one morning, I reached in to grab my mug of warm milk while Ella was running around underfoot, and the handle was scorching hot, so hot that I ended up with a blister over the entire surface of my thumb. I was just grateful that I didn't drop the mug of hot liquid on Ella when it happened and thats when I decided that I couldn't possibly use those mugs anymore, because they were too dangerous. Someone finally explained to me that when the pottery is not dishwasher safe, it can 'absorb' water. Then, when you put it in the microwave, this water heats up and if it gets too hot, can actually make the pottery explode!

Friday favorites

I tried to get a nice photo of Georgia when we were playing with bubbles the other day (she goes CRAZY if she spies a bottle of bubbles, all other activities must come to a screeching halt until I am woozy from lack of oxygen and she is covered with a fine layer of soap suds). Every shot, she had her tongue sticking out like this, or her eyes were shut like a little drunken geisha. She clearly takes after her father and therefore will never ever be elected Miss Photogenic. I've always thought that she was her father's daughter- from the chubby cheeks to the bottomless pit of an appetite, no worries about babies being switched in the nursery at the maternity clinic.

So after my lovely little nap yesterday, I was in a great mood. I ended up calling up a girlfriend to meet me at one of the galeries last night. Except I called the wrong girlfriend. The one who ALWAYS changes her plans at the last minute. So there I was, hair done, make-up on, undressed in front of my closet, trying to decide what to wear when I get an SMS. She had decided to go to different vernissage in the 8th off avenue Montaigne and wanted me to meet her there, after I saw my friends. I did really feel like a girls' night out and I should have just sucked it up, because we probably would have gone out afterwards and had a great time. BUT but but. I didn't have enough enthusiasm for the change of plans to get myself out the door on my own, on such a miserable night. I told B, when I came out of my room wearing my pyjamas, that if it had been a nice spring night, it would have been totally different. On a cold March night, I much preferred cuddling up with him on the sofa and watching TV. So that is what I did.

Which in the end was good, because Georgia had a bad night, after a fairly great week of sleep, and did her patented sleep torture move (I like to call it 'Going Guantanamo'). She woke at 5:30. We went in 3 times to give her her pacifier, start her music box, settle her down, til finally giving her a bottle just before 6. 10 minutes later she yelled hard, so I went in and saw that she had lost her pacifier. Again. Then she yelled again, every 10 minutes for another 40 minutes, til it was time for us to get up, more or less. That, my friends, is a hard night. She collapsed into bed at 10 a.m. for a morning nap and I imagine will sleep for 2 hours. Atleast I am getting good naps out of her on a regular basis. Thank god for small favors.

And now i wanted to post a photo of another beautiful bouquet from my favorite florist on rue St Antoine, Christian Collin, but I think my camera has died! It got knocked on the floor the other day and landed with an ominous 'thump'. It did turn on right afterwards, but now it's dead dead dead. Maybe I just need to charge the battery but I fear my little Canon has moved on to that big camera shop in the sky. I'll miss you.

Hmmm. Wonder if this means that B will let me get the Nikon D-3000 now?

Irritations- in bullet points

* you know what is bad for a diet? Birthdays.

* I've finally convinced B that now is a good time to replace Ella's junior bed with a grown-up bed, but it turns out that finding a lit gigogne is going to be a bit of a pain. The big department stores don't have anything great and on the internet, I'm finding nice stuff but all the shops are on the other side of Paris, miles and miles apart. I was 'supposed' to go and look at things this morning. Honestly, I can't be bothered.

* I need to get my haircut, but I don't want to make another appointment at David Mallet after my last visit cost so much. Also, as my hair has grown out, I've realized that the girl who cut my hair just gave me the same haircut as her own. Except we look NOTHING alike. So she looks super cute and I look like an Afghan Hound. Torturous decision- do I give her a second chance (since she was also trying to repair a really horrible cut) or do I find someone new to cut my hair?

* I have a list of about 5 doctor's appointments that I need to make and there is nothing that I hate more than seeing doctors. Not because I am scared but because I consider it such an appalling waste of money. And time. And yet, my teeth won't clean themselves.

* My Outlook Express won't open and I hate looking at my email online.

* I desperately need to go to the grocery store. But it seems like I am at the bloody grocery store every damn day of the week. How is that even possible?!!

* B was really a PITA this morning. Since this is a giant letter of complaint, no point in sparing him (although I probably should...) 1st. He didn't clean up dinner dishes last night, although all he had to do was stick things in the dishwasher and start the machine. And instead of going to bed at a reasonable hour, he stayed up til midnight and had plenty of time to do this. So I had to do it this morning while he was tired and cranky on the living room sofa. 2nd: I asked him to make Georgia's bottle up before he went to bed. He didn't. So this morning I got up and, in the dark with no glasses on, I had to do it. I HATE this so much. I literally cannot see a thing and her shouts increase in volume with every breath so by the time I manage to pour a reasonable amount of milk in the bottle without spilling it all on the floor and then get the bottle safely capped and in the microwave, a good 5 minutes have passed, by which time Ella and our upstairs and downstairs neighbors are all up and slamming doors. 3rd: He took the computer this morning- interrupting my morning routing- while I was cleaning up last night's dishes, to look at the same computer sites that he was looking at til midnight last night. He KNOWS that this pisses me off. I did refrain from yelling because its not unreasonable for him to use the computer when I am not there, especially if he has something important to do before work where he doesn't really have a chance to sit at the computer (even if it did look like he was just dawdling). Still, on top of all the other things, I did feel like he was really trying to push my buttons this morning. And if he had just said something like, 'I'm sorry I am being such a slacker. I feel awful due to this cold/a bad nights sleep/work stress (or anything basically).', then I would have forgiven him immediately. But he has got that awful man habit of clamming up just when he most needs to explain stuff to me.

* Ugh- no babysitter for tonight and I have two vernissage that I would love to see. Rosy Lamb, who sculpted the bust of Ella, is opening her atelier tonight and the Felli Galerie is having a vernissage of Pietropoli- and I love both the galerie owner and the painter. If I was feeling up to it, I suppose I could try and dig up a girlfriend to do the rounds with me but its another one of these miserable cold days and I do not feel like spending my evening dragging myself around in a pair of heels in the dark.

* We have a party to go to on Saturday night to celebrate the PACS of a friend of B's. And I'm irritated that they didn't just get married because I don't know if I need to get them a gift or not and, as a final indication of my rotten mood, I am unreasonably irritated about this. Do they have a registry? B had no idea. Because if they do, I would just go and buy something off of it. But maybe they don't because they plan on getting actually married somewhere on down the line. Do I just get a card and stick money in it once I do a quick survey of the other guests who might have a better idea of what is going on? These are not my friends and I don't care, I just want to be nice. Why can't they help me out and do the normal thing and get married, which has a clear cut set of guidelines regarding the present giving. Christ, people irritate me.
And more irritatingly, B said that I can't go and buy that DVF dress that I spied last Friday- even though it would be the PERFECT thing for this party. He insists that I have something I can wear already hanging in my closet. NOT THE POINT.

* Oh- one more. Why are all the shows I download on some weird mid-winter hiatus? I keep checking my account, ready to sit down to an evening of mindless American television viewing, only to be disappointed by an empty screen.

(Editted to add: Hey guess what? I took an hour and a half nap and ate 5 (!) Milano cookies for my gouter and now I'm not cranky anymore. Hmm. I guess I might need a mommy around here to manage me because it never dawned on me that I might just need a bit more sleep. (Last night at 4:30 a.m. the upstairs neighbor fell down and I laid in bed for probably an hour, straining to hear what was going on upstairs. If you have read this blog long enough, you'll remember that our downstairs neighbor fell out of his bed the first year we were living here and yelled for help because he had broken his hip. But we didn't realize that he lived alone. So we did nothing. And he died. I think that I am understandably a teensy bit nervous about bumps in the night...) I am going to have to think of a pretty amazing treat for little Georgie-boo to thank her for collapsing in bed for 3 1/2 hours. )

color disaster?

The painter just left and, as expected, he did an excellent job. But I think I may have screwed up! The media unit has this bronze finished mirror on the drawer fronts and in the back of the niches. It looks really pinky beige next to the paint, all of a sudden. I does match the bronze color in the wallpaper perfectly and the paint on the baseboards and trim, so its not completely out of place. Only, only... maybe I should have used this opportunity to change the color of paint in the living room. I didn't want to because I felt like the color was fine before. It goes all the way into the kitchen and the kitchen cabinets are a slightly darker shade. The stone countertops relate to the wall color really well, also. And normally, I thought that the stone was the same color as the trim throughout this space. So we come full circle, as the trim is the same color as the bronze mirror door fronts.

So why does it look so odd to me???

Hopefully, once the tv is back in place and the tchackes are all back in the niches, it will be better. Cross your fingers.

_______________________

Editted: I just found my Farrow & Ball color chart and I started holding up samples. I was right- the Slipper Satin is too yellow, which is really noticeable on the media unit. I should have switched the wall color to Dimity, which has a slightly pinkish cast and this would have worked much much better with the bronze color in the wallpaper and in the mirrored glass. Am I going to have to live with this an entire year before we can repaint and fix things?!! Actually, the walls we repaint all the time, but I bet B will completely refuse to change the color if it means having to repaint these cabinets. Oh boy, I really messed this one up.

total chaos

Our house is a complete disaster zone yet again today. The dining room was all finished yesterday and Ella's room should be finished today, but the living room will remain a work in progress through tomorrow. Ugh. I had to have the sitter stay an extra hour last night because there was no way I could manage keeping both girls out of trouble and occupied while also throwing together a quick dinner. The guy doing the work is actually fantastically neat and very polite so he won't so much as move a curtain without asking my permission or instructions. The walls that he has finished painting look amazing- which is really saying something, since B is a great painter and I thought the job he did two years ago was impressive. The new built-in unit should look great when he is done. If only I didn't have to try and keep Georgia occupied in the house while all this is going on.

Good lord, is it cold out! Normally, I would just pop her in the stroller and spend two or three hours walking around Paris- good for my ass and good for entertaining Georgia. I took her with me yesterday while I ran a quick errand and the poor kid was mute with misery. Her nose was streaming, her face was bright red, she even left her hands under the fleece muff (which she NEVER does) while she pushed her head into the seat to try and stay out of the wind. Clearly, a longer walk was out of the question. I let her run around in the halls of our building for a bit yesterday and she screamed her head off, she was so thrilled, so I won't abuse the kindness of my neighbors by doing that again today. Basically, we are forced to sit in her room all day. I don't mind, and certainly she has enough toys that we don't get too bored, but she has suddenly started to obsess over her favorite books. I think I read 'Petite Singe' (Little Monkey), oh about, 800 times yesterday. And tied for second place (that is, I only had to read each of these books around 400 times over the course of the afternoon...) were 'Les Petites des Animaux', 'Animaux Sauvages', and 'Ou est Mon Chaton?'. I am trying to be zen about it and consider it as a chance to perfect some of the problems I had with gender pronouns and les accords. I wonder why my old French teacher, Catherine, never suggested that we read aloud from Ella's library? So many opportunities for instruction. And, unfortunately, so much more in line with my abilities. My French library is rather sparse (and B's is quite frankly, non-existant) so we did readings from Beigbeder's 'L'egoiste romantique' which is a bit too (porno)graphic for a french lesson and then switched to 'L'elegance du herrison' by Murial Barbary which has too many long words susceptible to mispronounciation, which made our lessons a real bore. I actually should give ole Catherine a ring so I can show off my perfect pronunciation of 'la lapine and ses lapereux!' (I'll probably save the 'boinga boinga boinga sound effect for Georgia)

Its funny that I just noticed that all her favorite books are in French. Hmm. I suppose the actual text is not that significant and since she likes the baby books with things to touch and feel, I don't have many English language ones which take up too much space in the suitcase so I end up leaving them in the States. All the same, I should probably start paying more attention to my English. Ella is so bilingual (she switches between French and English during a conversation depending on whether she is speaking to me or B.) so I don't worry too much about being strictly English-speaking. As usual, Georgia is keeping me on my toes. She is clearly understanding English, since I can give her an instruction like 'Pick it up and put it on the table, please' and, with no gestures to help explain, and she will do it. She also understands 'Yucky! Spit it out!' and 'Come here and let me wipe your nose.' Although that last one either sends her running in the opposite direction or has her doing one of her full body wags to indicate a No, with a capital N. Speaking of which, I'm sure she'll be saying her first 'no' any day now. They grow up so fast.

I know that she is probably right in line with the average development for a baby her age, but God! I just find her so genius! I don't even want to look at my 'What to Expect' book because it is so much more fun being completely amazed by her. Its really one of the joys of being a parent, seeing a child actually develope each skill. You see them struggle and struggle and then finally the lightbulb goes off and they succeed at whatever they are doing and then- the best part- they look at you with this look of proud amazement. If I had a dozen kids, I think I would still find it mesmerizing to watch them learn things like how to put small toys in a jar, how to pick up a cheerio, how to use a crayon. The other day, I watched Georgia trying to put her shoe on. It was hilarious. She knew that you had to aim the toes towards the hole but after that it was all a bit vague. So she would turn turn turn the shoe in her hand til the hole was pointing down. Then she would need two or three tries to actually get her toes in the hole. Then she would try to balance the shoe on her foot as she slowly let go and eased away. And then it would fall off and she would let out a little grunt of frustration, before trying it all again. You also realize, when watching a baby learning, just how tenacious they are. I often think about how frustrated I get with a task after two or three failures. I mean, I get really really fed up with my computer when things are disappearing or not following commands like I expect. These little tasks, which are NOTHING compared with the struggle of learning to walk, for example. It is the ultimate lesson in patience.

Its a good lesson for me, right now. I've been spending time online, doing research into going back to work. I think that I need to go back to study, atleast for a bit, before trying to get back to the career that I would like to be doing. BUT finding the right program and applying and getting financing and then sorting out babysitting for the girls while I am doing a course. Its all so complicated. And its so easy to just to just sigh, and go all Scarlett O'Hara about things. ('I'll just think about it tomorrow...') Obviously, I need to commit myself to this and not let up until I've sorted things out. Its so easy to let things slide when you know that the problem is still rather far off in the future, just a vague cloud on the horizon. The best birthday present I could give myself is not a day at the spa but a list of '40 by 40'. I think I need to get serious about getting stuff done. Starting today.

Whiplash

Seems like the world should just back off a bit and let me ease myself back into normality rather than waking me up on the first Monday after Me Week with a hysterical painter leaning on the door bell to be buzzed in. 45 minutes before he was scheduled to arrive. Arg. SO despite having spent an entire week having my body buffed and polished from head to toe, I ended up throwing on a pair of saggy jeans and my glasses, quickly pulling my hair into a pony, and rushing out the door with Ella so that B could talk to the painters' boss while I dropped her at school. Then when I got home, I had to bundle up Georgia and haul her off to garderie. I NEVER do morning drop-off and I NEVER EVER leave the house looking like I did this a.m. so it was rather embarrassing to bump into just about every single person I know in the neighborhood looking like shit. Well, it was nice looking good while it lasted...

I would love to type up a long description of my lovely birthday celebrations but the painter is using some sort of toxic chemical bomb in place of paint, I believe, and my eyes are actually burning right now. Good god, this can't be a normal paint smell? I know I am a bit out of the loop since we've only used Farrow and Ball in this apartment, which is low VOC and there is no smell at all. I don't know what I'm going to do with Georgia. She is due home from garderie in an hour and there is no way she can be in the house if it smells like this. Hopefully, since this paint is just the base coat on the cabinets, the smell will disappear at it dries. Its so cold out today, a nice long walk is out of the question.

I suppose I could always pop over to the Louvre and wheel her around for a few hours. I used to do that with Ella all the time in the winter when she was little. On Sunday, Bruno asked me what I wanted to do and I did propose a visit to the Louvre but since it was the first Sunday of the month, the line to get in was about 200 people long and he nixed that idea straight away. We ended up doing a bit of shopping and then getting a snack at the food court in the Carrousel du Louvre. When did they change all those restaurants?! I must have been there a year or so ago when I was still pregnant and it was the same as it had been for years but they've kicked out all the old stands and made it much more fancy. I like it but my fav thing about the place was that it was a fairly inexpensive place to grab lunch if you were touring around central Paris. I was always sending people there after a morning of museum-ing. I had forgotten to pack a treat for Georgia so while the rest of us had a hot drink, I needed a something for her. I ended up finding a little pot of applesauce at the French food stand (called Beauduvin. What does that even mean?!?) and it cost me 2.50 euro. People, there was not even a half a cup of compote in that cup. I don't know if I can extrapolate and assume that the entire food court is charging equally crazy prices but I'll definitely be thinking twice before sending friends there for a meal.

Oh- I do want to mention one funny thing that happened yesterday. I got Ella up and had her get dressed to go to Mass with me while B stayed home with Georgia, who was still napping. When we got outside, we were confronted with a hoard of sweaty people charging past our door. Apparently there was the Paris SemiMarathon yesterday. I hadn't heard a thing about it so we were taken a bit by surprise. Well, straight away, Ella started with the questions. "Where are all the peoples going, Mommy?" "Why do they want to go so fast?" "Why doesn't that guy have any pants on, Mommy? Isn't he cold?" "If I run to church, can I take my pants off? Ok-can I take my hat off?" "Why is that guy holding a flag? What does it say? What does that mean? But why does he hold the sign while he is running?" By the time we made it to the corner, I had depleted all my mental energy for the day. And after standing there for 5 minutes, I realized that there was no way that we could get across the street to go to church. The organizer manning the barricade said that he expected the road to be blocked for atleast another 30 minutes as there were over 27,000 people running that day! Oh well. I figured that we might as well go and get some bread and cheese for lunch, since the shops were atleast not blocked off. As we continued on our way, the questions kept coming, but the one that she asked me again and again was, "But mommy, why are they running???" I guess I didn't have a very good answer because finally she just gazed up the road as the hundreds of people sweated their way towards us and she sadly shook her head and sighed, "I just don't understand it."

Oh sweetie, I thought to myself, you are not the only one. And then we went off to buy ourselves a piece of cake.

Me Week

Its my birthday tomorrow! Hurrah, right? Except that I'm turning a number that I don't particularly like AND my babysitter is not free tomorrow night so that I can go out to dinner AND since B has been working every day of the week since we got back from vacay (and will continue to through next week) he won't have a present for me or have any special surprise planned. So what's a girl to do?

Well, I've declared it Me Week. Easier said than done, considering that Georgia is still possessed by demons. Currently, she is laying in her crib, screaming against the injustice of nap time with the fire of a thousand suns- despite the fact that she had been up since 5 am. I am wishing that I had put Bose Noise Cancelling Headphones on my wish list...

But I've become accustomed to all that and figure that this week, with no pressing project on the horizon, I should make of list of things to do just for me and organize my day to make it happen. So, Monday, I dashed off to Bikram Yoga and signed up for unlimited classes for the week. I did a class yesterday as well but it looks like there is no way to squeeze one in today. Even if I can get 2 more classes in this week, I'll be happy. Its so hard (although easier to get back into that I would have expected) but I feel so amazing afterwards. I've made it through both classes this week without even glancing at the clock, which is something, since the classes are 90 minutes long. That 90 minutes is a blessing and a curse. It is so long that there is time for even the most stressed out mom to feel the tension seep out of her knotted neck muscles. However, how many moms can carve 90 minutes + showering time + transport time out of their schedule on a regular basis? Must work on that conundrum some more, as I am feeling less stressed today than I have in ages.

Since I can't get to class today, but both girls are out of the house for a few hours this afternoon, I am thinking about getting a manicure. I have the worst nails you've ever seen- they are soft and break off if I so much as look at a pop can. They are flat, have ridges, and are generally awful to look at. But in the hands of a good manicurist, I can enjoy atleast 24 hours of lovely hands. Then I give the girls a bath or shove my hands in a bag and before you know it, they are chipped and broken again. But its Me Week, so its worth it.

Tomorrow, I have a really big treat planned, since its my actual birthday. I have a facial booked at the Fourseasons George V Spa. I LOVE LOVE LOVE this place. Probably about once a year, I manage to finagle a visit out of my dear husband. Its generally not so hard, since he is terrible at picking out presents or even organizing a dinner out; whenever I suggest that he replace whatever he had 'planned' with a complimentary visit to this fancy spa, he tends to jump at the offer. I only have a few hours in the morning while Georgia is a garderie, but I am going to dash out of here as early as I can manage in order to take advantage of the sauna and the buffet. There is a juice that they serve that is out of this world- its some secret mix of maybe green grapes and kiwi and cucumber and mint? I don't know exactly but I probably drink a liter of it every time I visit.
Friday, I'll try to get back to the yoga class. And sitter is coming that night so I'll have to try and make reservations somewhere nice for dinner.
Baby still screaming (clearly she didn't get the memo about it being my birthday...). If I don't post anything over the next few days, its because I am probably laying in the bath and drinking wine while reading a novel. Really.

Georgia's Polka dot Party

It was a great party and I had so much fun doing all the projects and decorating. We chose a polka-dot theme mainly because Georgia does not have a passion for much of anything and this seemed like an easy thing to do to give Ella lots of little projects that she could help me with- specifically the polka-dot garland. She helped me punch out all the circles and then glue them to the string. It looked really pretty. We also had lots of fun doing the polka-dot cookies. The cake turned out better than expected- I used the extra royal icing from the cookies to pipe dots on to tin-foil the day before the party. Because the cake was for the babies, I didn't want to use too much sugar and chose a mascarpone/whip cream frosting with fresh vanilla bean for flavor. Just before bringing it out, we took the dried dots and stuck them on the frosting. So pretty! And with my new printer, I was able to print off stickers with Georgia's photo for the hats and party favor bubbles. Georgia was in a rotten mood for most of the afternoon (not surprising since she had woken up at 5 am that morning but wouldn't lay down for a nap with so many people in the house.) so I wasn't able to really take many photos. Half the reason I went to such an effort for the party was so that I would have a few nice shots for Georgia's photo album which is a bit sparse compared to Ella's. So much for that plan...
I had also planned on getting a bunch of helium balloons that morning before the kids showed up. I remember that at Ella's first birthday, the kids LOVED the ballons. However, I got up that morning to hear the wind howling down the street and ominously grey clouds covered teh sky. I decided that it would be next to impossible to walk home from the shop with a bunch of balloons tied to the stroller so I had to abandon that plan, which was a big disappointment. I just feel like helium balloons make it such a party. I should have just coughed up the 50 euro for the mini helium tank that you take home to blow up balloons. Next time, I'll know not to take the risk on February weather!
But I did have one happy surprise at the party. I had chilled a bottle of nice champagne, after one of the mom's RSVP-ed by mentioning that she felt that the first birthday celebration was really for the mother- which I heartily agree with. I do feel like I need to celebrate my 'survival' of the first year of Georgia. After I served the cake, I opened the champagne and asked if anyone would like a glass. Every single mom took some! Yeah, drinking in the afternoon! These are my people :-) Now, I loved Ella's playgroup. I am still friends with most of the moms and we go out together and exchange houses for vacations. I like them. BUT they were not up for Cocktail Playgroups.

Happily waving February good-bye

I don't think that I am the only person to be saying 'good riddance' to the month of February. It was rough, and I even managed to squeeze in a vacation. Well, two, if you count flying to the States for a funeral (although I think we can all agree that it doesn't really count, even if I did get to eat pizza from Drag's.) The weather was tough. I had to frantically dash from one major project to another. I gave myself whiplash (I don't think that I mentioned this. I fell down badly on the last day of skiing and the next day? I had to actually use my hands to turn my head from side to side. A week later and I am mostly better although I still creak when I get out of bed in the morning. Way to celebrate another birthday is coming up, body!) We were all sick- and some of us, more than once. Its Lent and I gave up alcohol so I couldn't even reward myself at the end of a hard day of cupcake baking and baby wrangling with a nice glass of wine. Oh, and my appointment to my lovely new hair salon was marred by the MOST EXPENSIVE BLOWOUT and/or MANICURE ever. When I told B how much it had cost, he was actually going to call them up and yell at them because he thought that they had taken advantage of me or cheated me or something. I had to admit that it was just a ridiculously expensive salon and now he may explode when I mention that I still need to go back this week to get my hair cut. Life was hard in February.

Forgive me for taking off an entire week from blogging but I am EXHAUSTED. The minute that we got back from vacation, I was ready to start burning through my prep list for the big birthday party for Georgia, but Monday morning I got a text from the sitter/cleaner to tell me that she was ill and she didn't know if she would make it to work all week. I couldn't have gotten any worse news. First of all, since we had all had The Gastro that Never Ended, I suspected that she wouldn't be back to work any time soon. And Secondly, Ella was on school holidays and was quite frankly, being a PITA. After spending a week alone with B and I, it seemed like she was determined to make it her full time job to have my full attention at all times. OMG, the endless questions! The constant harrassment to play games. The insistence that she was incapable of doing the smallest task without constant supervision. Plus the fact that I also had to entertain Georgia- who was being extra clingy due to our little vacation. I was at my wits end. By noon on Monday.

Luckily, Ella's school has a great centre de loisirs during the holidays and it turned out that there were a few kids from her class who would be there. She didn't want to go, we literally dragged her out of the house on Tuesday morning. Then, on Tuesday afternoon, I came to pick her up and she sent me home! She wanted to keep playing so I made dinner and then went to fetch her at 6 pm. Its funny but I would swear that the people who organise this put in more time and effort than her regular teacher. The schedule for the week is just a list of amazingly fun stuff for kids. Granted, there are only 30 kids and something like 6 animateurs/-trices, but still. I am more and more happy with my decision to pull Ella out of this school and send her to a private school next year. Not only does her teacher this year seem to have been slacking off in the extreme but she only worked about 9 days since January. She'll work a day or two and then be on sick leave for two weeks. And this is despite the fact that she only works part-time the way it is. Since I go to school to do the english class with teh kids, I am always shocked to hear that she has been put on arret maladie, when the day before, when I was in class, she was perfectly well and chatting to me about her plans for the evening. Hmm, a cynical person might think that she was abusing the system. Of course, she might very well be dying of cancer, but I highly doubt it.

So Ella was happy to dance out the door every day at 8:30 but that still left me with the Littlest Dictator. Good lord, this kid is a handful. She started walking really well while staying with her grandparents so she's become quiet brave, only the smallest things can send her crashing to the floor. Things like the edge of a rug. A piece of paper on the floor. A bit of light flashing in her eye. Its getting to where she is so covered in bruises that I am horrified to send her to daycare. They must think that I am either the most incompetent parent alive or that I am using her in cage fighting. I honestly don't remember Ella being such a klutz. I also don't remember Ella being so difficult and disagreeable. Ella used to be happy to sit by herself and play. Georgia is almost never happy to sit and play by herself and even when you play with her, she'll suddenly get a bug up her ass about something and starting crying and throwing things. I really really hope that its all due to her teeth but I'm beginning to fear that she is just a Difficult Child.

Georgia has started sleeping well, some nights, but then like last night, will give a good yell every 10 minutes for 2 hours. She isn't entirely awake but she isn't entirely asleep either. That means that you have to listen closely for the tipping point from Sleeptalking to Hysterics. Especially since she learned to scream. Oh that adds a whole new level of fun to the 4 am sleep-training that we are trying to do. And since she learned to shake her head 'no', she won't eat anything either. The first three bites go down just fine. Then its a big, full-body waggle indicating 'No!' So I try to alternate with bites of a dessert compote. That will work for a few bites. Then, another big 'no'. Generally at this point, she starts pointing at stuff around the room that she wants to eat instead. My tea. Ella's sandwich. A candle. Mainly stuff that she can't eat, but try to convince her of this. Meals have gone from being the easiest part of the day to a slow torturous death slog.

Oh, I know, I know. She's just a baby and she is just doing what babies do. But, gosh, sometimes parenting is a thankless job. I think that part of it is that I am sort of ready to move on to the next thing. When B came home from work the night before Georgia's birthday party, I asked him what he though of all the decorating and baking and projects I had done with Ella. He answered, 'i think you need a job'. Yeah, maybe I do.

Last day

Last day skiing and the snow is falling down hard. When B and I went up to the peak this morning, visability was probably about 5 meters! It was fun skiing in the fresh snow but because the temperature wasn't too cold, it was still pretty pack-y and so the skiing was tricky. You couldn't see anything hardly and even when you could make out the terrain, it was hard to tell if you were heading towards a bosse or a pile of fluffy snowy. I was doing pretty good and we were going down a beautiful run, lined with pines, when I tried to turned and my ski got 'caught' under a pile of snow. I twisted my knee, slammed my head into the ground, and just to really rub in the humiliation, went sliding upside down for about 10 meters, packing snow into all the cracks. I shook it off and made it down the hill, but I'm feeling it now...
In any case, we had lots of other things to do this afternoon, taking the time to enjoy all the fun that La Clusaz has to offer. We took a ride around the village in a horse-drawn caleche. It was so pretty, going through the hills of the upper village, with great big fat snowflakes falling from the sky. I went and had a hot rock massage this afternoon (well-timed, considering my big tumble). We still have to do some shopping to get a nice present for little Georgie-boo for her birthday tomorrow. And we are all trying to make room for one last fondue before we head out tomorrow.

Carnevale

Watching the mardi gras fireworks from the terrasse of the hotel on Tuesday night.

Skiing La Clusaz

Friday night we made it out of the house at a fairly reasonable hour - 7:30- and spent the night at B's parents' house in the country so that we could drop off Georgia. First thing in the a.m. we jumped in the car and were off for the mountains. It was going so well for the first 5 hours but then it was the typical traffic jam once we got near Geneva and finally after 8 hours in the care (3 more than we had planned) we arrived at our hotel. What a relief to find that it is just gorgeous- a regular Alpine chalet with a really nice restaurant and a great pool/sauna/hottub area. There is even a spa and you can bet that I will try out a good number of their treatments, especially the massages.

I really wasn't sure that I was going to ski this week. I hadn't been skiing in 3 years and I was sort of nervous since I haven't been very sporty lately. And I worry about being cold since I am a walking icecube. But then we got up today and there was the most gorgeous blue sky. You couldn't not want to ski. SO I caved and bought a week long ski pass and after dropping Ella at ski school, B and I jumped on the lift. It is amazing how good it felt to back on skis. We both had a good first run and rushed to get up the hill a few more times before having to pick up Ella at ski school.

Luckily, ski school went well and with the smallish bribe of a pair of waterwings for the pool, Ella has agreed to return tomorrow. It was awful dropping her off because she kept slipping in her skis and there was a little kid next to her screaming bloody murder (to which the monitor replied, 'just let him scream and he will eventually wear himself out. Then he'll participate. ' OMG, I am so glad that I never got sent to ski school as a 3 year old.)

It has ended up being slightly more expensive than we expected as I forgot my ski pants and glasses for Ella and underwear (and of course there are no cheap underwear in the entire village so I ended up spending an absolute fortune on a weeks worth of Simone Perele. Not very sporty but maybe rather appropriate since it is valentines day.)

We had a nice swim when we got back to the hotel and are off for a gourmet dinner. I think after a week of this, I will be more than ready to deal with Georgia again. Must say that the last night before we left, I wondered if I was going to make it through to morning.

Guess who got their first tooth?

I was saying to one of the other mom's at the party yesterday that Georgia was acting like a real jerk the last few days (and nights). She laughed and asked if the baby had been acting a bit cranky. I told her 'No. She's being a real jerk.' Opened mouthed stares from everyone. Apparently you shouldn't call your baby a jerk?

It continued this morning. Yelling from 4 til 5. Refusing her bottle. Then yelling for her bottle. Pointing to her pacifier. Then throwing the pacifier to the deepest darkest corner of the toybox. Then crying to have it back. Then chucking it in the trashcan. You get the picture. After pissing and moaning all through her lunch, the light bulb finally went off, and I rubbed my finger over her gums. FINALLY it seems like her first two teeth are poking through.

Kind of a bummer though because I was starting to think it would be really funny if she was still toothless on her first birthday. We would talk about it for years. I was going to start calling her My Little Gummy Bear. Oh well.

5 years old

Yesterday was the big day- Ella turned 5 and we had a Super Party, Super Hero Style to celebrate.

I got off the plane on Monday afternoon and went straight to work. After a super hero cape delivery fraught with complications and triumphs over daunting obstacles*, the party had big things to live up to, so I couldn't half-ass it. In the end, it worked out well that Georgia had a bit of a crisis (to put it mildly) on Monday night between 1 am and 3 am because this corresponded exactly with my jetlag. I got up and made a very thorough To Do list . I even organized the party games so that Tuesday, I was able to power through and get everything done just the way I had hoped. The room looked gorgeous with all the bunting that I had sewed up. There was even mini-bunting around the cake stand, too cute! The photo backdrop was fun and I have loads of great photos of the kids. The project (making 'zigzaguilleurs/ray guns) ended up being a hit, even though I had to practically force the kids to sit down at the table. I did forget to set up the kids music playlist on my ipod, which was a bit of a pain and more tragically, I forgot to chill a bottle of champagne so it was evian and orange juice for the mommies, boo-hoo! Seriously, though, I could have used a drink at about 4 pm... I was completely burned out at the end of the day, but nothing that a few pink cupcakes couldn't cure.

If only I had some time to lay around and bask in the glow of a job well done. No chance. I have to organize the house today for our visitors next week, which means hauling BOXES of shit down to our cave. Honestly, I am embarrassed to see how thoroughly disorganized the house is. B is going into hysterics over it all, which is not helping things. Atleast I have 80% of our ski things organized so that I don't have to worry about packing. B also decided, since we are taking the car to the ski station, that it would be better if we were to leave Friday night rather than Saturday morning, which knocks about 5 hours off my already tight schedule. Maybe if I put on one of the superhero capes, it'll give me the super powers I need to get everything done?

Okay, I can tell that I'm starting to procrastinate here at the computer.


*After 4 emails to confirm that the package of capes that I had ordered for the party would arrive at my mom's house before I had to leave for the airport, I was furious to find out that nothing had been delivered on Friday while I was at the funeral. I waited to see if anything came in the Saturday morning post and then I sent an extremely angry email to the company. A few hours later, I noticed that they had responded. They assured me that the package had been sent, but as no one was home to sign for the package, it was taken back to the post office! Sure enough- the postman had left a note in the post box but no one had checked the mail. I grabbed the notice and ran to the post office in town, even though it was 4 in the afternoon- hours after closing- because my aunt (a former postal worker) told me that there still might be someone there who would be nice and help me. There was. I banged on the back door, poured out my sad story, and the guy found the package and gave it to me!! The capes were great and well worth all the trouble. AND they fit in my suitcase :-), a minor miracle in and of itself. Although it makes me sound like a complete dope, as I drove back to the house with the package on the seat next to me, I had tears in my eyes thinking how incredibly nice it was of that man to help me even though he really didn't have to make the effort. And also thinking, in contrast, how a French postal would likely respond to the same request by calling the cops and having me hauled off.

Back home

Its been a really good visit. My bag is already packed and sitting next to the door, but I have a few minutes so I
was going through the photos that my brother had taken this weekend and I found these. I wasn't with him, but he drove through the little town where we grew up and took some photos of our old house. Its so tiny that I can't imagine how my parents managed to fit 5 children in that place- no wonder we were always being forced outside for playtime. I can just see my window on the basement level, its a bit hidden behind the trees (that have been planted since we left). At night, laying in bed, I could hear the white noise of the traffic speeding by on the interstate that passed by our town, on the other side of the golf course. Thats probably the reason why I've always slept so well in cheap motels when we stop while on vacation. That high humming whiz of 18-wheelers flying down the road reminds me of childhood.

He also took a photo of my best friend's house, located just around the block, where I spent a good 25% of my days. My best friend moved away when I was 12 and through the wonder of Facebook, I now am able to see her boys growing up. Her son is only 4 months younger than Ella- the same age difference as me and Amy. Its sad to think that if it wasn't for the terrible habit of modern life to scatter people to the four corners of the globe, our kids might be growing up just around the block from each other and playing spies, while climbing through the bushes.

Ross also took a shot of the little Catholic school where we all went for elementary school. When I first started, there were 4 nuns living in the apartment at the end of the building- Sisters Ruth (who scared the living daylights out of me when I tried to give her one of my birthday treats when I turned 6. In all fairness, all she did was ask me how old I was, but it was in front of an entire class of GREAT BIG ENORMOUS 6TH GRADERS!!!) , Methodius (the nice one who made bookmarks from old christmas cards and ran the library), Cornelius (who taught penmenship like an old marine drill sargent , which is the reason why I was able to work as a professional calligrapher for a few years in college) , and Rita (the pretty young one, although I suspect
even she was in her forties, so you can guess how ancient the other 3 were...) I loved that school. There were teeny tiny little classes of about 6 kids and they were all from farm families of about 14, so poor as can be. We didn't have much in the way of material but I can't imagine getting better teaching. We had to go to church nearly every day, which means that ever since then, I've felt fine about skipping Sunday Mass, figuring I banked up enough to last me til retirement. The highlight of the year was when each class got to do cake and cookie sales. Of course, to offset the fact that we would be spending the afternoon gorging on sweets, Eileen the cook, would force us to eat split pea soup for lunch. Her homemade bread and applesauce did nothing to help it go down. And I almost forgot- the 5th and 6th graders took turners cleaning the kitchen after lunch. In the spring when it was nice out, this was sheer torture. But in the winter, when the teachers would push us all outside in the freezing cold just so that they could have 10 minutes of quiet, it was actually a treat. We would sometimes sneak an extra cookie or box of chocolate milk (although god help you if Father Fliss caught you at it) and drag it out as long as possible to avoid having to take recess. Of course, now a days, they would never be allowed to let children near one of those giant dishwashing machines. It was great fun though. Opening up the door and having a big cloud of steam rush up in your face. Standing on the stool and using the giant sprayer to hose off the trays before racking them up. Standing at the counter to collect trays and letting your buddies get away with stuffing their lunch in their empty milk cartons.

The last photo he took was of main street. Its so sad to see it now, with every single building shuttered except for the bar and the post office. When I was little, Ray's 5 and Dime was still open and it was heaven on earth. A real old-fashioned shop, with a soda counter and glass jars of hard candy, big wooden bins full of little plastic toys. Comic books. A little white-haired lady behind the counter, who would ring up your purchases on a old cash register that had the numbers flip up and would ding, when she pulled down the big handle. I loved that place. There was a cinema, where I went with Amy O to see my first movie, Annie. I cried so hard that my mom had to take me out to the lobby so that I could pull myself together. And of course, Jackie's, on the corner where I bought my first underage beer. Ahh, memories.

Quick trip

I am typing this from Wisconsin as I had a sudden change of plans this week- my grandfather, who has been very sick with Parkinson's for a very long time, died on Saturday night. I knew that he wouldn't be alive when we came back to visit for the summer so over our Christmas holidays, I made a special effort to take the girls to see him one morning and sing carols. I took lots of nice pictures of us all together and, I think in a sign that he also knew that it was the last time we would see each other, he seemed to be in great shape. He had gotten to a point where he seemed fairly unresponsive to his visitors, although this may just have been a result of the disease and mentally he was fine- its hard to tell. We didn't exactly chat but he was smiling and hugged the kids. I guess we all said our good-byes, which I am happy about.

For that reason, it wasn't so important to me to be here for the funeral. I said it a million times when he was getting sick, I thought that all his children and grandchildren should visit while he could enjoy their company rather than save up their vacation time to come for the funeral. It didn't work out that way and when they heard he was dead, everyone booked their tickets to come and pay their last respects. I knew that my mom had taken it all very hard, despite the fact that he had gone into hospice care in mid-December and the end was quiet and gentle, really the best any of us could have hoped for him. So I decided that I would try to see if I could figure out a way to fly back.

First thing was the airline ticket. I complain and complain about all the things that AirFrance does to irritate me but I will say it here for all the world to read, their airmiles program is fantastic. I managed to book a flight at the last minute for only 240 euros, the cost of the airport taxes. This is the second time airmiles saved my ass (the first time was when I was in NYC with a girlfriend having a wild weekend of girly fun and missed my flight home. Ooops.). Then B's parents stepped in and came and picked up the girls on Tuesday afternoon to spend the time in the country with them so I didn't have to worry about lining up sitters for the week. Plus, it gave us a night to recover from our sleep deficit. We have had yet a second round of the gastro go through our house and morale was low...

So the trip went well and I made it back to my parent's house two hours earlier than expected which was an added treat. It is really lovely to see all my cousins who live in Vegas who I never see- which is weird because I'm a girl who loves sequins and liquor and loud cheesy music so you would think that I would be out in Vegas all the time. To be honest, last night we had a great time sitting around the kitchen table, drinking wine, laughing, looking at photos, catching up on everyone's news. I'm not sad at all and I'm having a great time, which is a bit awkward because I'm here for a funeral, right?

My mom had asked me if I wanted to do the eulogy and while I said no, I have been spending all my time since then sort of wondering what I would have said in a eulogy. Its such a hard thing, trying to figure out what to say that would sum up someone's life. Or even if it doesn't sum up his life, atleast makes an attempt at some sort of insight into who he was and what it meant to know him. I realized that my grandfather was a bit of a mystery. He was understated to a fault. Very quiet and rarely asking for anything. Its hard to know why he did what he did and neatly explain his life. He had some very big setbacks in his life and I specifically don't want to call them tragedies because I don't think that is a word he would want to be associated with but, time and time again, he would pick himself up, dust himself off, start all over, and just carry on. No shaking his fist at the sky and asking, 'Why, God?' No crumbling into a heap and crying about the unfairness of it all. Just determination to get on with it and I suppose the faith that it would all make sense in the end. So I try not to feel guilty about not crying because I think if there were two things he would approve of it would be taking advantage of this time to just enjoy family, which was important to him, and just quietly carrying on.

I'll be back in Paris on Monday afternoon and then there will be no question of not just carrying on because life just keeps on barreling forward and I'll have to run to keep. Its nice to have a few days here, with my jetlag waking me up hours before everyone else, so that I can sit and look out at the endless drifts of white snow and the empty tree branches scraping against the pale gray sky. There is something like a zen garden about this kind of scenery. It lets your mind wander places and remember things. It feels good.

Recipe: Veloute de panais, croutons, et lardons

On Saturday, B and I were staying in so I wanted to make us a nice dinner to eat after the kids were in bed but it needed to be something easy as I was EXHAUSTED after entertaining the two cranky/sick monkeys all day long. I decided to try out this recipe that I had spotted in Elle magazine. It was amazingly good. So good, that I am posting here, both to generously share it with all of you but more importantly, to have it noted down in several places so that I never lose the recipe. Of course, it is so easy that I probably could just memorize it, but it is so ridiculously rich that I don't think it would be wise to have it too often. Save it for a special treat- and who thought that could ever be said about parsnip soup?

The link above is to the recipe on the Elle magazine site and is in French so I will do a quick translation below. Enjoy!


Parsnoip Veloute with croutons and bacon

Prep: 10 minutes
Cooking time: 30 minutes
For 4 people

6 parsnips
70 cl creme liquide
50 cl de lait
20 g salted butter

Garnishes:
50 g petits lardons/bacon
100 g croutons
50 g fois gras mi-cuit


1. Peel the parsnips, rince them and cut them in big chunks

2. Pour 1 liter of water in a pot with the cream and milk.* Salt lightly and bring to a boil. Add the parsnips and let cook for approximately 30 minutes, or until very tender.

3. Brown the lardons in a dry non-stick pan. Put aside and brown the croutons in the fat left in the pan. Put aside.

4. Cut the fois gras in small cubes

5. Using a hand-mixer, puree the parsnips, adding the butter and seasoning, as needed

6. Divide the garnishes among 4 bowls. Pour the puree over the top, pepper, and serve immediately.

* I mis-read the recipe as ml instead of cl and so after I pureed the mix, I found it too thick. To correct this, I just added water til I liked the consistency. I think that it still tasted fab and was less rich than the original recipe so I think you could probably even eliminate more cream without it affecting the final product.

recipe from Andree Rosier, Meilleur Ouvrier de France 2007 and head chef at Les Rosiers, Biaritz

Bread making, Take 1

When Ella was home sick last week, she was begging for something fun to do(again...), and after a full day of this, I had run through my usual bag of tricks already. In a moment of weakness I proposed that we make bread. Now, I don't know why I thought that it would be such a great idea. Maybe it was the fact that I've been reading the biography of Julia Child, My Life in France, and I was subconsciously influenced by her feats of daring in the kitchen? Well, something made me ignore the voice of reason telling me to just put in another Disney movie and bread-making it was. I don't think that I have tried to make bread since I lived at home, so a rather long time ago. Clearly, over the years, I had forgotten how much flour-y mess is involved with bread-making.

It wasn't really a disaster, as you can see in the photos. Ella had a ball, especially when it came to punching down the dough. We also ended up with perfectly edible bread; B even went so far as to call it 'Great' bread. I just put this warning out there for any other moms who get ambitious and decide to do this as an activity with the kids-

1. it takes HOURS to go from measuring ingredients to eating actual bread. Not only will a 4 year-old get a bit impatient, but a 34 year-old may also find the time rather long, causing her to ignore the instructions to let the bread rise an hour before putting it in the oven. Moms, trust me, its better to follow the instructions. And,

2. do not clean your floors BEFORE you make the bread. This is not only stupid but may irritate your normally even-tempered cleaner to point that you fear that she may chuck a bottle of Mr Clean at your head when the 2nd round of kneading leaves yet another dusting of flour over everything in the kitchen. oops. And I thought we were being so careful.

I am impressed that it worked so well. Imagine how fabulous it will be the second time when I do everything right (I also used a recipe for pain de mie and ignored the part about adding butter because, frankly, it sounded like a bother.)? Also, I kind of don't see the point of making a loaf of bread at home when I can pay a euro for something lovely and fresh from the boulangerie. If I do the recipe again, I'm thinking of using the dough for cinnamon rolls. Now, that would be something worth taking a bottle of dishsoap to the head.