C'est ma vie

How to foutre le bordel in less than an hour

I am not going to translate the title of this post. For those who are French or who understand the French language, a million apologies for the vulgarity of my title, but it still sounds foreign to me, so I use it with fewer compunctions.

It all started with the organization of the bachelorette party for E's cousin, who will be married in June. As we all know, I'm a little critical of anything cheesy, labels like 'bachelorette party' not being excluded from that, but I've gone along with many a bachelorette shindigs in my life, shutting my trap the whole way. To each his own and I'm there to support, not to judge. My limits were almost reached when at one of these gatherings the married women of the group had to give the future bride advice on the 'wedding night' or at the one when a friend dressed as a princess 'future bride'. But, again, let people live their lives, you know? If they are having fun, that's all that counts.

As I said in a previous post, I'm kind of a follower. You tell me where to be, and I'll be there. This has resulted in many events that I absolutely do not want to partake in, but whatever, go with the flow, right? However, I recently discovered limits to my shut up and follow policy.

The person who is organizing the said bachelorette party is kind of a control freak. She finally decided that E's cousin would really like a karaoke night. Fine, I'm game. I don't necessarily like karaoke but I remember all of those cute indie bars in Norman offering karaoke nights, so I'm thinking a small, intimate bar in Paris where we can drink, laugh, talk. A bachelorette party that was tolerable. Then, she sent the website of the place we are going.

Let's just say Disneyworld meets Strip club meets McDonalds meets (fill in the blank cheesy fancy food) meets cruise ship. It was this big tourist trap, like the first address you are going to find in Tourism for Americans in Paris for an Authentic French Experience (or how to get ripped off and get a bad impression of the French). On the menu was foie gras, but I'm sure it comes from a can. Already, the concept of bachelorette party is cheesy, do we need to add anymore cheese to that?

Anyway, the worst was that this place was going to cost 75 dollars a person plus, of course the gift, plus paying for E's cousin's share. Not only are we on a budget but I selfishly don't want to put that much money into something just for my presence (because I have a difficult time believing that in a noise-filled club with half naked women and men servers we would be able to have a nice evening of girl gossip). So, I did what any normal civilized person would do, I came up with an excuse.

Then, I talked to E's cousin's SIL and she was upset that I wasn't coming to keep her company because she totally did not want to go either. Then, I was kind of getting the impression that the control freak just chose this place out of her own will without really consulting the crowd, or that the crowd was afraid to contradict her. E suggested I call his cousin today, explain to her the situation, ask her what I should do. She was aware of the evening's activities, just not the actual location and she knows that her friend is very difficult to get along with. She told me to write an e-mail to her friend right away, telling her that the price is too much to pay, maybe suggesting other places. So, I did and let me tell you, I've opened a whole can of worms and now there is a bitch fight going on between several people....

Personally, if it were my bachelorette party, we'd be sitting in my friend's café knitting the whole evening after having a potluck dinner with the girls. But, I accept that there are other versions of the bachelorette party out there. However, there is a limit and 75 dollars for an evening of naked waiters reaches that limit. And now, I've foutued the bordel (wreaked havoc, created a drama, putting it nicely) without even wanting to. Totally not my type and now I know why I've always kept my mouth shut because every time it opens, it creates drama.

A week in Brittany

A week in Brittany, originally uploaded by afoos.

Brittany pics are uploaded! If you have the patience and time to view all 75 of them, check out my photoset on Flickr (just click on the pic above to get there).

Pitstop Picnic

Pitstop Picnic, originally uploaded by afoos.

Since I'm an insomniac tonight (after sleeping 4 straight hours in the car, I'm going to regret this tomorrow when the kids wake up right as I'm drifting off to sleep), thought I'd start with a warm up pic to our trip: our first stop, picnic by a lake on the way there.

A few words about picnicing. We are a picnic family not only because it's cheaper let alone A LOT nicer to sit by a lake out in the nature rather than in a stuffy restaurant but also because I don't know if you know what it's like to try and wrestle with two kids under the age of 4 in a restaurant, but it's not fun. In fact, anytime someone even suggests restaurant with the kids, E and I always give each other a look of "they don't know what they are getting into" and "how can we politely decline?" I actually do like a restaurant once in awhile, contrary to E who hates going out to eat and is just happy with a tuna sandwich at home, or by a lake, but I know we'll get back to being able to join out of town guests at restaurant endeavors once the kids get older.

A couple years ago, we took my brother and sister to Galveston and packed a picnic lunch and their reaction was "gross". Then, when we were in Italy and I said we had a picnic lunch when we were out and about, double the reaction, "gross". Since I've lived 7 years now in France and in my new cultural surroundings, even in the most bourgeoise of families, the traditional picnic is nothing but the most common of happenings (remember, we spent a week in a villa in February with Etienne's family and didn't go out to eat once- eating out is a once a year thing), I am trying to remember in my US culture if picnics were seen as weird and I honestly can't remember. Do people picnic in the US or is it only reserved for certain social classes or subcultures? Whatever the case, wherever we go, we will BOOP (bring our own picnic), especially now that my mom got us this super cool, snazzy picnic basket/ice chest that comes with its own cutting board and salt and pepper shakers. I'm telling you, our picnics are not your traditional bologne and cheese or p,b and j sandwiches.

Come along with us the next time!

More Brittany pics to come...

A Week by the Sea

Beaches of Brittany, originally uploaded by afoos.

Words can't describe the wonderful week we spent, as a family, without internet, without worries, without the daily grind we realize we've fallen into to without even knowing it, in a little white house by the sea on the coast of Brittany.

The weather in the pic tells all- for the most part, we were able to taste the first sunbeams of spring, even though we could still feel winter's hand trying to grasp the moments when the sun would sink behind the clouds. We only had one bad weather day, the rest were full of sun which allowed us to take many walks, taste the first pre-summer burgers and sausages on the grill, and of course, explore the beach, where the kids could have stayed for hours.

Many more pics to come and my apologies for not being 'connected' this week, I know some of you are waiting for a response to an email or on facebook, but actually, I'm not too sorry, it was a wonderful taste of freedom, for a week.

We're off....

I think part of the reason my past couple of posts have been more venting and maybe dramatizing things that didn't need to be dramatized is because we were so near the school vacation period. Students and teachers both are on edge the last couple days before school holiday, and I'm not excluded from that. With all the incertitude about my past evaluation, I've been a little tense as has Etienne and we both need a little break, even if I'll be working on these papers I have to turn in. But, at least I'll be working in the fresh sea air and escape the Paris pollution a little. Sometimes, I paint a bad pic of Etienne and I regret that. He is kind of from the Middle Ages but at the same time will do things I know a lot of men won't do to help out. And, now he knows that he needs to shut his trap when it comes to my housekeeping skills! I wanted to respond about the 3rd child comments but that will have to wait. We have our own theories about that and that will be for another post.

So, we're off! No internet access for a week so I'll post when we get back. Happy week!

Peace Offering

Etienne must have really realized he had crossed the line, especially after he continued on this morning about my lack of house keeping skills and I finally went hormonally ballistic (I have threshold of what I can take and when you are going on the third day of "You don't do anything around the house", well, excuse me for blowing a fuse) because he came home with a peace offering: a pastry from our local bakery. And, let met tell you, when E brings home something for me, it really means he feels that he did wrong. But, not only did he get this for me but he also went through public humiliation to get it.

He wanted to get me "une tête de nègre", the pre-politically correct name for a chocolate covered meringue ball with a coffee and chocolate center. Since the last time he set foot in a pastry shop was probably when politically correct didn't exist, well, when he told the lady what he wanted, her welcoming smiley 'bonjour' face quickly turned into a 'you racist who do you think you are?' face. She could have at least told him what the new word for the thing was.

As I was enjoying my chocolate meringue, I secretly smiled to myself with all the trouble he had to go through to get it. Not that he deserved it, but still....

Ouside

Gabriel et Louise apprécient le retour du printemps sur le balcon, originally uploaded by afoos.

Louise loves going "ouside". Of course, balcony time is done under the closest observation because I have this profound fear that my children are going to go over the side and our balcony is not (yet) childproofed. But, when we have a few minutes and the weather permits, we enjoy a few sunny moments.

The One Where I Dump the Kids on the Husband

I've already described the cloud of fatigue that seems to hover over me throughout the day as if to say "I'm waiting for you" and then, always at the same time, when I go get the kids, this looming cloud engulfs me and from about 4:30 onwards, I am a walking zombie. I try to clean our neverending mess of an apartment, but to no avail because the kids promptly destroy what I've picked up. I try to get organized, to stay on top of things, but it just seems like I'm running this marathon in circles, never to reach the finish line.

The bottom line is that I am "supposed" to do everything. I say this because every time Etienne moves and does something, I hear "this house just isn't managed." I can infer from his sarcasm that he expects me to indeed do everything so that he doesn't have to do anything because really, at heart, he is lazy and would prefer to avoid the materialistic details of life at all costs. The problem is that there are only 24 hours in a day and even if I only sleep 5 or 6 of those hours (which is way more often than not), I just don't have the energy to do everything. So, some things get left behind and unfortunately, those things are noticed quickly and called to my attention.

Etienne is very French in that he only notices the things that I don't do, never the things I actually do. Sometimes, I feel like keeping a journal of exactly what I do in this house as a way to prove to him that I'm not sitting on my butt twiddling my thumbs. He also keeps reminding me that his mom, a doctor, did everything while raising 3 kids a year apart in age. First of all she's a perfectionist and had the French housewife model, something that I definitely don't have. Secondly, she did have a maid to help her. And thirdly, she came from a different time, when women were" supposed" to do everything. What were the feminist years for if I'm to find myself back in the 50s in 2008? I'm starting to believe one of my colleagues who said that French men still live in the Middle Ages.

Our apartment is perpetually in disorder. Contrary to what my husband thinks, at the bottom of my heart, I just can't stand the disorder but you get to a point when you can't spend all your energy cleaning up all the time. I try so hard to keep up with everything but it's nearly impossible. If I clean up the apartment, I can't take care of the kids, if I can't take care of the kids, they get into things and then I hear from Etienne "You aren't taking care of the kids" but at the same time he wants me to be more organized in the apartment. It's just a never ending cycle that perpetuates itself over and over and over again until there's an explosion.

So, after two whole days of hearing "Nothing is managed around here" (and he had the audacity to say that after I had made dinner tonight!), I was tired of arguing about this and said "Fine, you can take care of the kids the rest of the evening, I am going to bed." This was of course after the second night in a row when he has made indirect comments at 5:30 pm like "Fine, I can see no food will be made, I'll have to make dinner myself". 5:30 pm! We usually don't eat until 7-7:30, but if I am, gasp, relaxing a little, god forbid, and I'm not in the kitchen where every woman should be, then panic sets in and I am flagged for being a bad housewife. The thing is that he is deeply convinced that I do nothing, zilch, zero around the house and he is also deeply convinced that he does everything. I can't argue with someone who is convinced they are right. So, let him take care of the kids, give them their bath, brush their teeth, read them a story- all things that he does once a year- and I am going to have the evening off and I am perfectly conscious that I am doing nothing right now, for once.

Geez, sometimes I think I need to go on strike so that this family can really get the effect of what it would be for me not to do anything.

Oh, and I also think that we are crazy, seriously insane for wanting to add a third rugrat to the mix. Anyone have a good shrink who can brainwash us in the other direction?

Life isn't fair

I don't know who my readers are, so I always have to take that into account when writing a post. But, I will say that some unfair stuff has been happening to me and I do believe that I am finding myself in a political situation that could very well lead to a negative outcome of this year. This looming cloud has been eating at both me and Etienne the whole weekend and into the beginning of this week and it's sure to continue its ravenous hunt until mid-June, at which time I am hoping to see some form of fairness peak through a system that I am starting to lose faith in. Sometimes, I wonder, even though I am of French nationality just like all the other students teachers, if I don't have American written too boldly across my forehead and that maybe I'm too naive in thinking that my cultural origins won't impact how those who judge me look at me?

So, this next month will be fairly stressful trying to finish the 2 papers I must hand in and then preparing for the inspection that will make or break me.

I am going to try and focus on something else, something less stressful on the blog, though. I, myself am tired of dealing with the "other" stuff and hopefully we won't have to deal with it yet another year.

A whole lotta kids

Visite chez Yann et Mollie en métro lors d'un dimanche pluvieux à Paris, originally uploaded by afoos.

2 7 year olds
2 3 and a half year olds
1 19 month old

What does that add up to? Actually, Silence! We were quite surprised that the rainy afternoon at our friends' apartment in the 5th didn't put a damper on our afternoon with a bunch of kids cooped up in an apartment. Instead, they actually played by themselves for a couple hours while the adults could actually talk about adult stuff. I can't even do that in my own house! Maybe we can borrow their kids sometime to entertain our kids...just to have a few moments of down time ourselves.