C'est ma vie

You didn't have to rub it in

We all know that mothering/family life, which has by default become my full-time gig (even when I am working full-time as a teacher), does not come naturally to me, or comes less naturally to me than it does to others. Most of this comes from my own childlike selfishness. My kids want to do exactly what they want, well I would too, like sleep, play my day around what I want to do, eat what I want, do what I want when I want, not have some 'chore' to attend to in the house that is or is not a direct result of the kids etc... etc... I have a much harder time than some to sacrifice these things. I love my kids with everything I've got and would not in a million years give up what we have now, but I admit to not fully enjoying reading books for hours to my kids or having to go out to the park just because we 'have' to get out before the whole circus raids our apartment or having the kids help to bake. (What can I say, I'm a control freak, I can't stand flour spilled all over the counter or eggs on the floor- both give me a minor heart attack, it's me going all OC again, I'm telling you). It's the whole selfish thing again, I want to be reading my own books, doing my own things and at 6:00 in the morning, when my kids come parading in to wake me up, well, I'm not all bright eyed and cheery, it's more like 'what in the F are they doing up so early'? when I should already know the answer to this- they ALWAYS get up early. But, usually their cheer and enthusiasm to break in the day and their darn cuteness has a slight chance of getting me out of bed and out of my bed mood. So, okay, I suck as a mother, maybe don't fit the exact role for the job, but I am doing my best with something that doesn't come very naturally.

Today we went to the American Embassy to register Alice as a US citizen and to get her first passport. I brought her in the Baby Bjorn since we took the subway to get there and the whole stroller and co. is a small hell to carry on the metro by oneself. As of late, okay, as of last week in our trip to Berlin, we have started carrying her facing outwards rather than facing me because A/ she really likes to see the world rather than stare at the chest from which she doesn't get fed and B/ she's holding her head up pretty darn good and is thus capable of being turned outwards. Since there was a small country full of people at the embassy today, mostly foreigners trying to talk their way in to getting a visa for the US, when they called my number and I was on the other side of the waiting room getting burnt coffee from the machine, I panicked that I wouldn't get to the window in time and that I still had all that paperwork to fill out. I got to the window and while the lady was taking my documents, Alice must have fallen asleep, but I was still kind of in stress mode because of the rush from the other side of the room and all the people and the sense of urgency to hurry and fill out the paperwork, that I barely paid attention to her slouching head that had minimal support. Okay, maybe I noticed that she was sleeping in a position that would send anyone but a baby to a chiropractor, but I really didn't think much of it- she was sleeping, she wasn't crying, she seemed comfortable, what of it? Well, apparently, there was a lot of it and I heard of it, not from one, but three separate people on the trajectory from the window to the waiting room where I was looking for a table to fill out the paperwork.

I think the universe had finally decided to be frank with me about my poor job at mothering. The first remark as I'm walking to the table, "Can you please do something about your baby's head, she's really uncomfortable." The second remark, "Your baby's head is slouching, aren't you going to do something about it?" and the third remark (not having anything to do with the former two) "Your baby is awfully red, are you sure she's not too hot?" You'd think I would humbly thank these gentle people for not only keeping my awful mothering skills in check but for caring so much about my baby and the evil hands that she was in, that I would suck up any pride I had left, say a simple "thank you", arrange Alice's head in a proper position to appease the masses and move on, but nope, I got out a big old can of whoop a and told these people to mind their own business. Now, I am NOT an assertive person. At. All. And generally am the one getting ripped off and walked all over, even by people who are close to me. However, after the bottle incident at the brocante on Saturday (where a woman just flat out told me out of the blue that plastic bottles were bad for babies), well, I've heard enough of people giving unsollicited advice about my mothering skills. I know I probably messed up the first two, but by the third, you'd think I'd know if my daughter's head was in danger of falling off because it was in a weird position. 

To the first couple of 'concerned' non-American citizens, I kept my cool when I responded, "This is none of your business, I am her mother, not you and I would appreciate it if you kept your advice to yourself, thank you." I guess they saw the non-assertiveness in my face and thought they could have the audacity to 'ask' me to do something about Alice's head, but I sure threw them for a loop when I came back with a verbal bullet. To the third concerned non-American citizen, I said something of the same effect, omitting that she was red because I left her in the sun for 5 min. this weekend- I thought that the head and the fact that I caused her to get sunburned would be too much at one time and would surely cause a call to child services after that, so what this third concerned person doesn't know won't hurt him.

People, I know I suck sometimes as a parent, but you don't have to rub it in and I'm sure there are times when you really suck too.

Brocanting 101

Thought I'd give some tips out there for those expats who live in the Paris area or who might be in the Paris area and would like to partake in a brocante.  If you are short on funds but still want to have fun shopping for your kids, honestly, I've found shopping for kids' clothes at brocantes even more fun and rewarding than going to a store. Basically, my kids only wear A/ Super cheap Gap clothes that I get on sale (because Gap has some awesome sales)- this is the only store I go to for them, about two or three times a year B/ Gifts C/ Hand me downs that are very carefully picked over by me (I'm picky) and D/ Brocantes.  I'm by no means an expert and I don't proclaim to be. I have my own style and philosophies about doing things, so take it, take some of it, or leave it. I was nervous the first time I went to a brocante and did have some trials and errors and still get ripped off sometimes, so here's what I've learned and would like to share with you:

Dive in! You are there to sort through, pick through and go through any and all clothes. Depending on the size of the brocante, you will spend anywhere from 2 to 6 hours, so plan your morning or afternoon around your adventure. Don't be afraid to go to a stand, go through the stuff and then not buy anything or only buy one or two things. You have your own style too and the sellers understand this.

Looks can or can't be deceiving: Don't pass by a stand just because the clothes and other goods look white trashish. Some of my best finds have come from iffy tables. Obviously, you won't have time to do every single clothes table you'll come by. This is where you need to use some discretion. Know what you are looking for. Some of my favorite brands that I wouldn't buy new because they are too expensive are: Petit Bateau, Jacadi, Tartine et Chocolat, Obaibi, Cyrillus, Absorba, Sucre d'orge. Some others are : DPAM, Gap, Vertbaudet, sergent Major. When I am walking the streets, I glance at each stand and if I see an item of clothing that resembles any of these brands, I stop. 

Also beware of the folded clothes stand. Usually, when the clothes are all folded into perfectly neat little piles, it doesn't invite you to go through them and these are usually the moms who have a hard time getting rid of their clothes or who think their clothes are precious and want you to pay for their precious value. And, don't be scared off by messing up their piles- you are there to buy and if they don't want to sell their stuff, then they shouldn't have folded it so that buyers are scared of undoing the pile. Some of the pile makers are nice and you want to continue looking through, some actually do act like you are intruding on their piles and that's when I usually walk away.

The best stands, I've found, are where the clothes are unfolded in neatly labelled bins with Boy or Girl and then the size.

Move West:

My favorite brocantes are in the Western suburbs of Paris near Versailles or near my MIL's in Normandy. I have been to a few that are in more working class towns, and the clothes are usually in worse condition or have smells or smoke etc... and I find that the sellers tend to hike up prices a little more. If in doubt, just go to this website and randomly pick some, which is what I did one weekend I was at my MIL's last fall. If one didn't please me (which you'll know after doing a couple stands), I left and did another. Of course, you do need a car for this.

2 euros is my limit:

Okay, not really, because I'm really bad at negociating and have a tendency to just grab clothes and not ask the price and if they tell me, just take it anyway, even though I find it expensive. Last year, I bought a polar fleece jacket for Louise and a nightgown at the same stand. She had me pay 4 euros, but she wasn't very nice, so I didn't feel like telling her that 2 euros is fine for the jacket, but for a measly nightgown that had been washed and faded, it should have been no more than a euro.

 To be honest, if you put yourself in the seller's shoes you are either there for 2 reasons: 1/ to get rid of (happily) all the crap that you don't have room for or 2/ to actually make some decent pocket money and use the 'but it's such and such brand' excuse when a buyer tries to negociate with you. I try and find a compromise of the two, as I know if I ever sold at a brocante, it would certainly be to happily get rid of closets full of clothes while making a little extra money.

Here is a brief pricing guide, at least what I think is decent pricing, but it's all relative because if you really find an adorable outfit with a name brand, you might be willing to throw all your brocante principles out the window and in the end, it's still going to be much, much cheaper than what you'd pay in a store.

Below a euro: Underwear, undershirts, socks, onesies (even if they're Petit Bateau)

1 euro: My general rule is that a euro for an article of clothing is pretty darn reasonable and usually, the sellers stick to this rule as well. Sometimes, you'll get super lucky and get pants at 50 cents each, like I did last weekend and both in mint condition and of known brands (Zara and Galeries Lafayette Kids). But, if the clothes don't hold a brand name are just your plain jane run of the mill random, 1 euro is more than enough to pay.

2 euros: Sometimes, if something is in excellent condition and of a brand name, I'll agree to pay 2 or 3 euros. Or, if it's a 'bigger' item such as a jacket or pair of PJs. Examples of this would be Petit Bateau PJs, polar fleeces, any article of clothing with above mentioned brand names such as Jacadi or Cyrillus (I paid 2 euros for an adorable Cyrillus button down toile shirt for Alice next fall), anything that might be new, no matter what brand.

I learned my lesson real quick one year at this brocante I go to every September near Versailles. The first stand I went to was this woman selling only Petit Bateau onesies and Pjs and I thought to myself, wow, I'm going to get a great price we're at a brocante. She wanted 5 euros for a pair of PJs that were obviously washed and used. Since I'm a sucker for Petit Bateau and knew that a pair of Pjs is at least 20 euros if not 30 I gave in. It was also my very first ever brocante stand of my life, so I didn't know. Up the street a ways after that, I got another 2 pairs for a euro each. NEVER pay 5 euros for a pair of Pjs no matter what brand it is. 

3-5 euros: Winter coats in mint condition, outfits of brand names that are also in mint condition.

10 euros: This is really my limit for a brocante clothing purchase and this is really, really, really if I just can't do without what I see. Last year I could have killed myself for not getting a 10 euro wool boys' pea coat (she wanted 15, but I'm sure I could have gotten it for 10). E's leather jacket that he's been wearing for 3 winters comes from a brocante: 10 euros. 

You can also negociate, we are not in a store and you'll find that the seller's are usually willing to work with you. I don't usually negociate for clothes unless it's one item I find really expensive, but how can you argue between 3 and 4 euros for an item of clothing that would cost 4 times as much in a store. You'll also get a feel for the seller while you're looking through their clothes. Trust me, those who think you should pay top price for their precious clothes, you'll know!

Buy in bulk: Inevitably, you'll find one or two stands that have tons of what you are looking for. And, the seller will usually cut you a deal of 5 to 10 euros by buying in bulk. This happened to me last weekend. I just kept piling on the clothes and she cut me a deal for 30 euros, which I found very reasonable because most of what I bought was an expensive brand mentioned above.

Don't rush and be picky: One of my big mistakes that I still make is thinking that I'll never get through the whole brocante and that I need to buy what I see immediately because there might not be anything by the time I get to the end. So, I end up buying clothes that aren't exactly what I really want my kids to wear and then, at the end, always find tons of clothes that I want after I've bought too many. Be picky. You will also inevitably find what you are looking for. I like my girls to wear more 'classic' styles such as jeans and a cute trapeze style toile shirt with converse or mary janes, or a navy cardigan, white shirt, jeans and converse- no princess frou frou, a limited amount of hot pink (I prefer pastels and navy or one of my new favorites is brown with dark pink), and plain, simple clothes.  And, I can completely find what I'm looking for at a brocante. I am so excited for Louise's new school clothes this fall- I got her the most adorable pair of Mary-Janes at a second hand shop in Germany and she has tons of cute pairs of jeans and cute, simple tops and cardigans.

Bring cash: This may sound obvious, but sometimes it isn't. If you are just going there for clothes, 100 euros is more than enough to have on hand, I only spent 50 last weekend. If you are looking for other items such as baby equipment, furniture, bring more. 

Make a list: Make a list before you go and stick with it. I go through the kids' clothes and note the things they need so I'm not tempted to overdue it. I try and only buy for a season or two ahead of time, but sometimes I see something a couple sizes too big and love it so much, I pick it up and put it aside for the coming years. Don't overwhelm yourself- if you have 3 kids like me, wow, it was a little overwhelming trying to find things for all 3 of them last weekend. There are other brocantes with other stuff and you can make a deal with yourself and buy for only one kid at a time and do several brocantes in a month's time.

I do have a mini-van and am definitely planning on returning to a brocante sometime this spring. E requires that I take Gab and Alice, meaning I have 3 spots left in the car if anyone is interested in trying it out, let me know!

Who does Alice look like?

Who does Alice look like?, originally uploaded by afoos.

Who in the heck does Alice look like? Everyone says that Gab is Etienne down to a T and that Louise is a spitting image of me. I just can't figure out who the heck Alice looks like and am not seeing as much of me in her as I do in Louise.

Today I was looking at Alice and really couldn't decide so help me decide who this child looks like! You have Gab at 5 months on the left, then Alice at 3 months and Louise at 5 months.

A little too nosy for my taste

This post probably isn't what you think it's about. I was just trying to come up with a catchy title. Oh, and if you don't want to be grossed out, please stop reading now because there is a definite TMI risk at hand.

My whole life, well as far as I can remember, I've suffered from allergies to cats, pollen, mold, dust and the whole shebang of spring delights (what we are supposed to delight in, I, personally, cannot enjoy the flowers when I can't even smell them due to the stopped up nose). Along with these allergies, I've also become accustomed to bloody noses about once a month, maybe once every two months. It's just the way I'm built. With Zyrtec and Claritin, the allergies are somewhat under control, but the bloody noses remain. Oddly, during my pregnancy, the side that the blood would come out of switched- I used to bleed from the right nostril and then, it changed to the left. Odd.

My brother and sister-in-law can attest to the fact that when they were here, after Alice was born (she was about 2 months old), one night blood didn't just slightly trickle out of my nose, it flowed and I could barely keep up with the kleenex supply. That one lasted 20 min- the longest and heaviest I've ever had. Then, a couple weeks after that, I had a bloody nose that lasted a whole hour! I was starting to think there was just some scab in there not healing correctly because these didn't feel like my normal bloody noses, the ones I've experienced practically my whole life.

Fast forward to our trip to Berlin, and scabby, dried up blood was incrusted in my nose (hey, I warned you about the TMI, don't say I didn't). Like any good mom who tells her kids not to pick their noses, guess what I did? I couldn't breath, okay, and the scabs were really uncomfortable. I also noticed blood on my pillow one morning, meaning I had a bloody nose in my sleep, and my nose would bleed off and on during our trip. One day, I needed to blow my nose and it just didn't all come out, I couldn't get rid of everything and my left nostril remained blocked, as if something were stuck. 

I don't know what compelled me to actually look in my nose the other night. Have you ever looked in your nose? Well, this was definitely a first for me. And, let me tell you, I almost flipped more than I did when Louise's finger was cut in two. In my nose lies a huge, bubble, cyst, tumor, whatever you want to call it that is attached to the nose's wall. That sure explains why in the heck I can't breath, it's like having a marble up your nose. I showed it to E's mom, mainly for her to reassure me that I don't have nose cancer, and she said it was just a swollen membrane that an ear-nose-and-throat doc needed to burn off. Our general practitioner, today at Alice's 3 month appointment, was more serious, however. He didn't know what the heck it was and couldn't confirm at all that it wasn't cancer, which was my main concern, and said that I need to get my butt ASAP to an ear-nose-and throat doc that that I'll probably have to have it surgically removed and then it will be biopsied to determine its nature. 

I've done my internet research and it looks like it might be a nasal polyp, a membrane aggravated by allergies etc... I'm not too worried but would sure like to have it confirmed that I don't have a cancerous tumor growing in my nose. And, I would sure like to breathe again. Try putting a marble in your nose, it's not very pleasant.

I got home too late today to call a doc, but I am definitely going to get my nose on that tomorrow.

Please send thoughts this way

I am starting to get nervous about going back to work. One of the sources of this nervousness is getting Alice a spot in the daycare. We love Louise's daycare and she has had such a great experience, even though it was a short one as she didn't get a spot until she was 18 months old. And, let me tell you, it cost us an arm and a leg until then to find a solution because we had to call one of those emergency babysitter services on the days when E and I both had to work at the same time. We even left her home alone for 15 min. every Monday because E had to leave right at the time I was finishing up class and it would take me 15 min. to get home. He would put her down for her nap before he left and she was sure to be sleeping, in fact, not once was she awake when I came home. We weren't going to hire someone for 15 min. It's awful, I know, but it was our only solution for a couple months. 

Theoretically, Alice should have priority because Louise is already at the daycare. The problem is that Louise will be starting real school in September and leaving the daycare, right when Alice would start (they don't admit kids right before summer, so we have to wait until September when the school year starts), so in September, we no longer have priority. The daycare director has said she will do everything possible to coordinate with the town hall to give us a place but she can't promise anything because the town hall has their own agenda and reserves places for their own people from what I understood. In Paris and pretty much the rest of France, only 25 percent of demands are filled for the daycare, the rest have to find a solution elsewhere.

We don't have an elsewhere. The very sorry state of our finances will not allow us to hire a nanny. Not to mention that as teachers, we also plan our classes at home and have varying schedules throughout the year, so we can't really hire a nanny based on one schedule when we move around all the time. I would feel so much better going back to work knowing that Alice will be in good hands in the daycare next year. 

Please send some thoughts this way that at the end of May she will be admitted for September because it's starting to stress me out.

Happy 3!

Happy 3!, originally uploaded by afoos.

Date wise, Alice turned 3 months yesterday, but day wise, she's 3 months old today and I just can't believe that my newborn is moving into the infant stage already. Our newborn days are definitely coming to a close, as I realized when I saw a real newborn at the brocante yesterday- Alice was really that small? And the 6th month sized PJs that she got as a gift that seemed so big when she was a month old I thought that they were really 12 month sized are almost her size now! I just can't believe how much they change, even from 2 months to 3 months. She also seems to have filled out a lot more this past month and is already in 6 month size Pjs (the cloth diapers also fill out her clothes a lot more).

Although she is sleeping what you would call a night, that is, she knows that when I put her down at night, she should sleep for more than 5 hours, her sleep is still very erratic. Some nights she goes to bed after her 4th bottle of the day around 8 and it's a gamble to know if she'll sleep until 6 or 7 the next morning and sometimes after that 4th bottle she'll go down and wake up at 3 or 4 for a feeding. Other nights she'll take a 5th bottle around 9 or 10, depending what her schedule is like on that particular day, and sleep until 7 the next morning. This is all a new experience for me because Gab and Louise were very on schedule with their 4 bottles a day from around the age of 2 months, meaning they would take their last bottle at 8 and sleep 11 to 12 hours. So, I'm still not getting an optimal sleep and sometimes waking up once a night for a feeding, but I know it will get better soon. But, really, I don't know when, as a mom, you're not tired, and I've gotten used to a constant state of fatigue.

This month, Alice had her first real international trip to Germany and got to spend some alone time with mommy and daddy, which I really enjoyed because at home, I feel she gets the low end of the deal with me always having to take care of the apartment or the kids. In Germany, I would just sit with her at night and we would smile and giggle and coo together.

She also seems to have developed reflux, or maybe she had it all along and I didn't notice. We are going to the doc tomorrow for her 3 month checkup, so I will definitely bring up that subject.

I am very sad our newborn days are coming to an end, but at the same time excited to see this little girl develop her personality and to see how she will fit in relation to her brother and sister.

And, then the third

Well, I thought I had saved Louise from childhood trauma by having her stay home with Daddy yesterday, but it now looks like we are officially awful parents.

Last night when E was giving Louise her bath (I know, I should have captured it on camera, it was such a rarity), Louise paraded in the living room naked because E wanted me to notice the red mark her pants had left around her waist joking "look at her waist, someone has been eating too many Easter chocolates and her pants are too small". This morning, late as usual to get off to school, I quickly got her dressed and noticed the same redmark and was preparing a blog post about how my almost 3 year old daughter already has a muffin top. 

My day went on as usual. No phone calls, well one that was marked in the caller ID as unknown, so I didn't answer because it's usually telemarketers- all of those whose numbers are in our phone their name shows up when they call. So, my day went on, I did some major spring cleaning of the apartment and I went to get the kids. When I showed up at the daycare, the caregivers were very sombre and serious and said "The director would like to see you." Crap. After Louise came back from her Mamie's, she had a weird bruise on her leg plus she had fallen off her bike and gotten a scraped knee and another cut on her leg, maybe it was that? Or maybe the bruise on her head from Gab hitting her head on the side of the bath?

When I walked into the office, I couldn't possibly imagine what it could be. She said "We wanted to talk to you about the red mark on Louise's waist" and relieved that they weren't concerned about her biking scars or abuse from her big brother,  I replied "Oh, that, I know, that girl is eating well- her pants are too small! I've put those in the 'small clothes' pile and will dress her in bigger pants from now on, don't worry." But she wasn't laughing. She replied "Louise had a rubber band around her waist, we don't know how long it had been there, but she has a pretty bad red mark- we noticed after she went to the bathroom this morning." WHAT? A rubber band? How could we not notice that? In our defense, it was clear in color, so you had to look very closely, but still, how awful are we to not notice a rubber band around our daughter's waist AND let her sleep like that and go to school like that???? That Louise will get into anything and everything and I'm sure E let her have the run of the apartment yesterday while I was gone with Gab and Alice (as evidenced by the explosion of toys strewn across the whole of the apartment). Anyway, I got back to the car and noticed that the daycare had tried calling my cell and I didn't hear it ring, so they had left a message about this whole situation even before I got there. That's why everyone acted like I should have known what was going on.

So much for the Pill that is supposed to relieve PMS symptoms, all I wanted to do was cry when the daycare told me this and still feel shaken up about it. I called E and told him and he was like "So, is it that big of a deal?" I told him "Yes, it's a big deal, her circulation was being cut off!!!!" And then he said "well, did you at least explain to the daycare that we were inadvertent and that it was just an honest mistake, that we thought that it was her pants causing the mark?" And I sarcastically said, "yes, and I also told them that our apartment is trash with stuff everywhere at the kids' disposal and that our son swallowed a coin the week before (did I blog about that one?), and that not only did I make my 3 month old go three hours past her feeding time yesterday while we looked for the car for an hour and a half that I had lost, but she also got her first sunburn because I didn't know that 5 short minutes when the sun peeked through on a rainy day would require sun protection."

Excuse me while I go cry and pity myself. Who in the world let me have children?

Scarred for life

I'm fairly certain that if my youngest daughter or only son remember anything from today, we're looking at some expensive therapy sessions in the future. 

A little background to set up the stage. Every year E's mom (wo)mans a booth for her women's club at a brocante in a Parisian suburb. (I'll explain this concept again because I don't expect you to go back and read a million ages ago the posts in which I give the definition- it's basically when a small part of a town shuts down a network of its streets and people rent the right to set up a table to sell their stuff, kind of like one, huge garage sale, or a bunch of garage sales put together if you want to look at it this way- sometimes they are big, sometimes they are average, sometimes it's just one small street, today's was a couple miles in length.) I started going to these when Gab was one and most of the kids' clothes come from brocantes. Having done a few in my day, although I don't consider myself an expert, I do have a good feel for them and know if I want to return the next year. This particular brocante is not my favorite. Although it is the biggest one I go to, it is more of a working to middle class suburb and the clothes tend to be more worn out and not really my style. I know I sound like a garage sale snob, but I am very picky about what I pick up for the kids- there is a way to wear hand me downs and there is a way not to and I don't really enjoy the idea of my kids looking like Oliver Twist or street urchins, which is possible if you don't watch out what you buy. One year I just went crazy buying Louise stuff and it ended up that I developed my own style for how I wanted my girls to dress, so now I only buy stuff in that style because half of the stuff I bought that year, she didn't even wear- I didn't like it in the end. Anyway, I also find that at this brocante in particular, you are ripped off a little more (if you call paying 2 euros instead of 1 for a branded shirt a rip-off!) than in the wealthier suburbs that sell classier styles of kids' clothes. Of course, I can't complain about spending a little over 50 euros for about 50 items of clothing when just one pair of Pjs of the brand Petit Bateau and the Jacadi winter coat I got Gab would probably cost just as much if not more new (this is where I ask, how can people afford not to go to garage sales for their clothes? For me, it's also a matter of principle- why buy new when there are so many great used clothes available at a lower cost?) I was also reluctant in general to go today, because it was raining this morning and I just didn't feel like walking miles when I could just go to another street sale near Versailles in a month- where I know that I'll find exactly what I'm looking for. The stage just wasn't set up right to begin with.

Louise stayed home with E- it would have been a small hell with all three kids and if I can save one from therapy, then all the better. As soon as we entered the brocante, literally not even 2 steps past the street barriers, I got my first sign that we should have turned around to leave: this random lady looked at Alice in her stroller, took the time to observe with eagle eyes what I had in the basket in the back of the stroller and said "You know, plastic bottles are awful for babies." I looked at her, not even believing my ears that she had the audacity to say this to a perfect stranger and she gave me the look of shame- she was crossing her fingers at me with her face, which was saying "Shame on you, bad mommy." Before I could catch my breath after this obscene interruption to my motherly tranquility, she walked away. Once I gathered my thoughts, I did feel like shouting "They are BPA free, bitch." 

The brocante itself was rather disappointing. I had really come there to find Louise some fall clothes and it was a painful search. All I really found were some cute fall things for Alice with the excuse that she was born in a different season than Louise, so my girl things for Fall wouldn't fit Alice. There is a halfway truth in this, but I probably could have gotten by with what we already have. I guess it's just about not being able to resist dressing up your doll for a very small price- when I finally found 'the booth' (there's always one where you just keep piling up the clothes because it totally fits what you are looking for), I probably could have offered to buy her out for an even 150, but alas, Alice definitely doesn't need all those clothes. Anyway, Gab was being a total angel and he knew that if he was good, I'd get him a toy car (this is our brocante ritual). But, I kept telling him to wait. Then, the poor thing was hungry, but I kept telling him to wait. We finally got to my MIL's booth after an hour's walk and she gave him some bread and summer sausage plus a banana. Good, that would hold him off for awhile. I, on the other hand, was in full shopping mode- no time to eat, gotta get to the booths before the good stuff goes. After we saw the MIL, I finally gave into one of Gab's wishes and we headed to the French Fry stand, but the line was backed up and around the corner, so I again told him to wait awhile. We continued our jaunt and I told Gab he could look for his toy car. Poor thing, I knew he was hungry and thirsty and I just kept pushing to finish the brocante so that we could leave. Alice was also going to wake up any minute to eat (we had been there for almost 4 hours and I didn't bring another bottle), so I knew we had to get moving since the drive home would take us a good half an hour. She can sometimes hold off an hour more, 5 hours instead of 4, if she's sleeping, but her internal alarm becomes external and when she needs to eat, she let's us know. We finally got back to the entrance, where we had started from, I got Gab an ice cream and we started moseying to our car. 

We had been lucky enough to find a parking place relatively close- about a 5 min. walk and I had mentally noted where we had parked. So, we start going to the car and after turning into the street it was on, or so I thought, well, I realized I had totally miscalculated where we had parked. No big deal, let's just try another street. I don't know how many have had an experience in a Parisian suburb, but it's basically a networked maze of streets that all look the same, that never go back to the same place, that twist and turn. The more I turned, the more I got lost. Gab and I literally walked for an hour trying to find our car. I was getting very upset in general, mostly due to the stress that Alice was going to wake up any minute screaming for food that was back at home in Paris (I know, I know, again, if I had been nursing, we wouldn't have this problem, thanks, I know) and I freaking didn't know where the damn car was and didn't know how long I could walk in circles before finding it. This stress was causing me to be very short with Gab, so he got upset, and I remind you that he was starving and thirsty and about to fall over from exhaustion after walking for so many miles and instead of calming him down, I was very impatient with him for lagging behind a mile when all I wanted to do was hurry as fast as we could looking for the car. So, I finally go into full panic mode, call Etienne, crying, he thinks a child has been hurt.

The convo goes like this:

E: "So, just give me the name of the street where you parked so I can help you"

Me: "I didn't write it down"

E: "You know your Iphone will allow you to pinpoint a location and then use your GPS to help you find that location if you are lost, but you needed to put in the address"

Me: "Okay, you know I don't know how to use my Iphone, even Gab knows how to use it better than me, it's too late, I don't know where the car is, just tell me what to do"

E: "Okay, well, do you remember how you got there?"

Me: "Yeah, I just walked around a corner and then around another corner and I was at the entrance to the brocante, the problem is that all the corners look the same"

After much talking (Alice is STILL asleep, it's now been an hour and a half since she was supposed to eat), we decided that for me to walk back in through the crowds to get E's mom who was in the middle of the brocante then she would have to get her car drive me around and her car wasn't even close by, it would take another good hour, so it would be faster for E to call his cousin, who lives about 15 min. away and come drive me around to find the car. In the meantime, I continue to walk the streets. A couple had set up a stand outside the brocante limits to get by without the stand fees and they had seen me go by at least 10 times, so they said "Madame, are you lost" and I felt like saying "Hell, yes" and then breaking down in tears, but I just said "Yes, my husband is on his way." Gab is utterly scared of me by this point and probably thinks that some aliens have come from outer space to take his mommy. I think by that time he had broken down a couple times too. Oh, and by this point, he also looked like a street urchin- grubby hands, dirty face, sagging eyes from exhaustion, ice cream all over his shirt. About 30 min. later, E's cousin is at the entrance of the brocante, had located our car on the way in and had parked his car in the same street as ours, so I didn't even need to take a ride with him to find our car. Alice is still holding off on her bottle (thank you whoever invented pacifiers), but this is miraculous in itself because this NEVER happens and it had been almost 6 hours since her last bottle. By 6, we were home, despite a rather noisy car ride with Alice crying the whole way. She finally realized that she could cry and I said 'let it out sister' because all I asked was that she didn't cry those 2 hours we were looking for the car.

If you ask me, I really can't explain to you what happened. Basically, the car was parked in a total different direction than the way I thought we had come in, so I walked all the streets in the other direction looking for it but didn't think to turn behind the brocante to look for our car and that's where it was. I don't think I would have found it without E's cousin's help because it was in a place I wouldn't have thought to go- my whole sense of direction was off balance.

To top things off, while we were eating dinner tonight (don't make any illusions, it was take-out Greek sandwiches from a place down the street), E says to me "Doesn't Alice look red?" And, I looked at her, and her poor little face must have taken in some sun the whole of 5 min. the sun was out today and I didn't think to protect her since it was a very cloudy and almost rainy day. She looks like a tomato. And, to top it off even more, if that's possible, as I was putting Alice's bib around her neck to feed her tonight, I pinched her and didn't even realize it until she started screaming, and I mean screaming in pain.

Maybe I should set up a fund now for my kids' future therapy. 

I said 'smile' and she smiled

I said 'smile' and she smiled, originally uploaded by afoos.

Hamburg

Hamburg, originally uploaded by afoos.