Paris Souvenirs: Part 2

I used up the last of my Euros on a fist full of Eiffel Towers for the kids. I adore that it's so kitschy. It's all part visiting major tourist cities. NYC has Statue of Liberty replicas. Orlando, Mickey Mouse ears. And the entire state of Idaho, potatoes. Who doesn't love receiving a giant potato from someone who just visited Idaho? Let me serve this as a warning about the Eiffel Tower replicas: around 30 minutes after giving it to your child, you will step on it. Try not to swear and have a speech ready. I chose the classic parental threat: If I find this on the floor ever again, it will go straight into the trash. I give it one more week and then it's Au Revoir Eiffel Tower!

It's a bird, it's a plane. . .

It's Wednesday. I'm already out of clean clothes for the boys. So when they insisted on wearing their super hero costumes, I went with it. Those capes cover 85% of the stains.  Today's adventures: saving the world at Bryant Park and searching for villains at the NYC Public library. The locals, especially cops and security guards, had some funny things to say to the boys. Everyone felt a little safer with them around. Try it.

Owen

This post was going to be about Owen's fascination with earlobes, but let's face it. The real star of the show is my new camera. Thanks Rob!

Paris Souvenirs: Part One

I had to use every ounce of self control not to over spend in Paris. I've been home a week, and I still feel really good about my purchases. I'll start this series with the mini bowls I bought at the flea market. I've seen similar ones at Anthropologie, but I liked the colors of these better.  I'm especially in love with the orange one on top. We've used them for everything: sliced apples for breakfast, ice cream (of course), and tonight I put green beans in them to entice the kids to eat their vegetables. It only worked on Owen. Now that the bowls have been immortalized on my blog, my kids are free to break them. What a relief!

about Mister Softee

Warm weather prompted a nature walk in Chelsea. Soft served vanilla ice cream sold out of a truck.  The boys listened to the subway rumble under the grates and saw a lot of cigarette butts. They adored the flowers for sale in shops and asked me to bring some home for dad. It was a good idea that I completely ignored. No leaves on the trees yet.  We passed some of the best dressed people and a lot of normal people too. When we were finished, I felt like I had walked in the pages of Ezra Jack Keats Neighborhood.

My Last Day

 Photo by Paul Ferney

By the end of my week in Paris, I started becoming an advocate of being alone. The "I am a rock, I am an island" state of mind. All this came to a head on my walk to the d'Orsay musuem alone. I watched a couple quietly argued over directions. It's on this side of the Siene, No this side! Maps stretched out, fingers pointing. I saw a bunch of teenage girls on one side of the street get their cameras out to take a picture. But then the light turned green, and their group was crossing before the girls had time to take a picture.  Ha! I thought. I'm alone! I don't have anyone stopping me from taking pictures. No one questioning whether I was going the right way (I wasn't!).

I'm sure I was looking for reasons to be happy to be alone, because I was walking in PARIS: The romance capital of the world. I'm sure there were people kissing all around me, but I didn't see them. Not when I was so happy by myself! Eventually I got the d'Orsay and found my favorite artwork. I stayed an hour and then decided to go to the Eiffel Tower. It was my last day in Paris, and I still hadn't taken the elevator to the top. On my way, I stopped in a clothing store because I liked the bathing suit in the window.

I walked for a while until I finally made it to the tower. As I waited in line for tickets to the top, I noticed the family in front of me. A mom, dad, and two daughters. The girls were around 6 and 8 years old. American. The older girl was looking all the way to the top of the tower. It really is quit tall. Taller than the pictures make it look. And that's when she did what kids do best: cry. Here it goes, I thought. A meltdown. A classic case of parents dragging their kids around to too many events on vacation and wearing their kids out. I've been there! I was still on my judgmental  individuality kick and started thinking things like: Kids ruin everything! Being alone is the best!

The parents of the crying girl waved me past so they wouldn't hold up the line as they figured out their plans. The younger sister was fine, so perhaps a debate was going whether to split up? Have one parent stay on the ground with the crier, while the other goes up with the happy child? I've been there too! But not today! I bought my ticket and turned around to see them still working things out.

That's when things changed for me. The mom was so nice to the crier, saying all the right things like, "It's ok, We can view it from here." And the dad too, "We didn't know you were scared. We don't have to go to the top." And the cryer, "Really? I thought you were going to be mad at me!" In that brief thoughtful moment, I saw them doing all the classic messy emotions that come with being with a family: Comfort. Guilt. Honesty. Love.

I am all to aware of being with a family or group can slow things down or make it impossible to do things.  For this family, it wasn't going up to the top of the Eiffel Tower, one of the quintessential things to do in Paris. Surprisingly for me, when I finally got to the top, it wasn't that great. The elevator was cramped solid with tourist. The viewing area was just as crowded. The line for the second elevator to go to the tippy top was so long that I didn't even bother to wait. After taking a quick view of the city, I found myself wanting to get back on the ground. And as I was squeezed onto the elevator going down, I realized that family didn't miss out on anything and that they actually benefited from staying together on the ground. I hope they got an ice cream and took a ride on the carousel. That's what I'll do when I bring my family to Paris, I thought.

And as I started to make plans for my next trip to Paris, this time with my family, I knew I was ready to go home to be with Rob and Ella and even those sloppy, crying, ghostbuster loving twins. I missed them.

Writing in Paris

While I spent a lot of time alone in Paris, the other part was spent with Jordan and Paul Ferney. By the end of the trip, I made a joke that every time Jordan came around, Paris got even prettier. When I was alone, sometimes I would find myself in a mess of tour buses, Paris t-shirt racks slapping me in the face and tourists saying, "I'm just here to see the Mona Lisa. Where's the Mona Lisa?" Then Jordan would arrive and suddenly carousels, churches on hills, and cobble stone streets would appear. That really happened. Here's the picture she took of me shortly after it did. Look how happy I am!

Staying at their apartment is something I'll never forget. After their kids went to bed, I watched as Paul painted and Jordan worked on the details of her projects in their living room. There was no music, no TV chatting in the background. It was mostly silent while they worked. The windows were open so I could hear cars passing and the occasional outburst of laughing from the people in the cafe below their apartment.  If I looked out the window at the right moment, I could see the top of the Eiffel Tower sparkle. Once in a while Jordan would ask for feedback on a project. I was flattered she asked me for advice. Perhaps she was asking Paul, but I assumed the questions were for the room. 

I couldn't help but be influenced by their creativity so on the second night I borrowed one of their laptops and wrote. I wrote for hours and hours while they worked. I'm sure I could have seen more of the city had I not stayed up so late, but I enjoyed writing so much. The kind of creative writing I started to do in high school and continued doing in college. It was great to be working on something again. I did the same thing the next night and the next.  It became my nightly routine.

Today was my first day back. My life picked up right were it left off a week ago.  I helped get Ella ready for school. I scrambled eggs. I watched an episode of Wallace and Gromit with the boys. I unpacked. I cleaned the dishes from breakfast and put some laundry away.  I made chocolate chip pancakes for lunch. Napped. Bought some milk and vanilla ice cream at the store.  As Oscar was wailing down the street because he didn't like the flavor of ice cream I bought, I wondered if the Paris trip ever really happened. There's noway I was in Paris yesterday buying flowers and beignets and exiting stores singing, "Merci, Au Revoir!" just like Jordan taught me.

So this evening, just to make sure, after the kids and Rob went to bed, I wrote for a few hours to see what would happen.  Would it be the same without Jordan and Paul in the room? Without Paris's beauty and culture motivating me?  It wasn't the same, but that didn't stop me. Here I am at 1:34am still rewriting the ending of this post.  And enjoying every minute of it. Au Revoir!