Paris Shootings

~ everydayparismama ~ 11 Comments

Last night I was only a ten minute walk away from my family and yet didn’t feel safe walking home. Sirens blaring, streets deserted and news pouring in of more and more victims and shootings. I was at our student Bible study for the first time this year. Normally, Dave is the one that goes but this week we decided I’d go.

I was just gathering up my things to start walking about around 9:50 P.M. when one of my teammates got a text asking if she was ok from her dad in California. (It’s always like that- we get news of what’s going on in France from family and friends texting from the U.S. Crazy how it all works these days…). We turned on the news, I called Dave and those of us at the Bible study made a plan for what each of us would do. Some were staying the night at Beth and Haley’s (where the Bible study was), another had to start making his one hour journey home because of commitments this morning and I didn’t know what to do. My baby, only 5 months old, still nurses every three hours and it was already amazing she hadn’t woken up while I was gone. Dave and I decided to have me sit it out a bit and see if they caught the gunmen or if there were more shootings. The shootings got closer and closer to our neighborhood as the night went on, so we wanted to make sure that trend didn’t continue. The last one was a good 20 minute bike ride from our place.
There were seven women left at the Bible study- we were glued to our phones and BFMTV for updates. We prayed for those traveling home and waited for news from our family, friends and teammates. Around 1 A.M. Dave knew he had to make something happen when he rummaged through the cupboards and freezer and realized there was no formula or breastmilk for Chloe. He had the great idea to text our neighbor and see if she could come down and stay with the sleeping kids while he drove to pick me and my friend Karen up from the Bible study. It was a go.
He pulled up in front of Beth and Haley’s apartment building, we hopped in – me sitting on the floor because the carseats were taking up the seats— and we drove home. People were driving through red lights because the streets were deserted and the police had better things to do than stop us. The roads were blocked just beyond our house- much like they were in January, I imagine, during the Jewish supermarket hostage situation. We quickly parked at home and went up to our apartment. Laura, our neighbor, greeted me with tears in her eyes. She’s a mom, too.
I was never so relieved to respond to my baby’s cry last night. And never so happy to hear my two year old cry out “Mama” because he couldn’t find his blanket in the night. Paris is our home and last night our home suffered tragically. I can only imagine those who didn’t make it home last night to their kids. I don’t want to think of those who are “still waiting” for news from their loved ones. Please pray for peace for those who witnessed the crimes, for their families and for the Parisian authorities to have wisdom. Would you also pray for our family? Dave is leaving on Monday to teach at a European leaders’ event with our job. It’s only a two and a half day trip but it could seem long in this uncertain time.

Sleep Depravation Causes Me to Run

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Sleep depravation causes me to run… not to run a 10k like my friend Beth did this fall, but to run away from what comes out of the depths of my soul in these tired days. I think I’m annoyed because the living room is messy or the table still has crumbs on it from last night or one of the kids isn’t obeying (or sleeping!). But I’m really annoyed because I can’t hold it all together. And, “annoyed” is just a nice way of saying angry.

This is how our baby slept the first three weeks of her life.
This is how our baby slept the first three weeks of her life.

Tuesday morning was perfect example. By 7:45 A.M. I was “annoyed.” Dave and I were looking on-line at buying a second scooter for the kids and they were clamoring all over us and giving us their ideas: “But I like the purple one.” “Ack ue one. Ack ue one.” (Translation: “Jack blue one.” “Jack blue one.”) I’m pretty sure the baby was fussing, too, and ready to go down for her morning nap. Yes, her morning nap. She got up at 5:15 A.M.. I plowed through and ordered a blue one as Dave and Lexie headed out the door for school. That blue scooter is what caused me to start running.

I ran to my phone each time it buzzed with a text. I ran to switching the laundry. I ran to a harsh word when I was “interrupted” in what I was doing. I ran away from the feelings of failure that churned in my soul.

It wasn’t until the next day that I flipped my Bible open to this passage, “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock” (Isaiah 26: 3,4). I picked up my pen and started writing…

Keeping my mind on You has been hard as I’m confronted daily with my shortcomings and failures with the kids. Again, ‘no.’ Again, a sharp word reprimanding. Again, guilt for not “seizing the moment” or ‘making the most of the Tuesdays of my life.’… Cast off the condemnation. Run from the Destroyer and run to Him. Freedom is at the foot of the throne. It’s not on the throne that I find my place of rest but in the posture of a servant seeking mercy from He who’s on the throne. Enter that Holy Hall of smallness and place yourself before He who frees. Frees our soul from the bondage of guilt, disappointment and our ‘not-enoughs.’ Cry out, ‘Jesus!’ as your feet (and soul) slip down the debilitating slope of condemnation. It was for freedom that Christ set us free.

Ahh… that’s good for the soul. Jumping back to Tuesday– I have to share the sweet, soft note that the day ended on. Dave was working and the baby was tucked in her crib for the night (and actually sleeping). I was ready to keep running and not lean into the last moments with my kids before bed, but thankfully my little guy called over to me from his box of trains. “Mama, ‘ome.” (“Mama, come”). Those words and the look on his face softened my heart and motivated me to leave the rag on the table and go sit with him. We built a great train track and soon his big sister was joining in sharing the two little trains we had. At the end of our train game, they joyfully helped me clean up the whole living room. Lexie even said, “Mama, what else can I do?” Wow. Thanks. Given the day we had, it was a real gift. I can’t say I’ve now mastered my anger and have stopped running. In fact, Thursday was worst than Tuesday. But I think it’s God’s answer to my prayer to not leave me like this. I want to taste greater freedom. And when I run,  I want to run a 5k and not run from the throne of grace.

This is our son when he was just a few days old. “I don't know what's more exhausting about parenting: the getting up early, or acting like you know what you're doing.” ― Jim Gaffigan, Dad Is Fat
From the archives: this photo is from when our son was just a few days old (2011)

“I don’t know what’s more exhausting about parenting: the getting up early, or acting like you know what you’re doing.”
― Jim Gaffigan, Dad Is Fat

No Free Starbucks for Me, but I did Get a Little Devil at my Door

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This week I posted about my love for free stuff and about a couple of “deals” in Paris on Halloween. (Um, 3 euros burritos and a free Pumpkin Spice Latté if you were in costume.) Around 4 P.M. yesterday (Halloween) I gleefully pulled out the costume box and Lexie joined in digging through it. She resorted to her usual Elsa dress but added some lovely “arm puffs,” Dave got his Captain Amazing outfit on, I choose my hot pink twirling skirt and Dave outfitted Jackson with a doo rag and motorcycle shirt– and the baby went as a baby. We were ready for our free stuff!

We decided it’d be easiest to head to the 9th arrondissement by car (by easy, I mean we wouldn’t have to haul the heavy stroller and three kiddos through metro). There wasn’t any traffic… until we were coming up on Place de la République. Traffic was stop and go, or, mostly just stopped. The booming music out the window hinted at either a concert or a protest. Turns out the Young Communists were protesting. I’m not sure about what but they certainly screwed up our Halloween plans. After sitting in traffic for a good 45 minutes and seeing our GPS go from “2.3 kilometers until your destination” to “2.2 kilometers” Dave decided to pull the plug on our adventure. I think at this point Jack and Lexie were sucking on suckers and I had crawled in the backseat to help our baby keep her pacifier in her mouth. This was not how I imagined our little family outing. I wanted a burritos for dinner.

Poor little Lexie was so excited to go to the restaurant she begged from the backseat, “But we being patient, Papa. I really want to go…” (So sweet.) Dave then promised the kids pizza from Franprix and watching “Cars.” Um, did I mention I wanted a burritos for dinner? Oh well, he was the level-headed one that knew when to throw in the towel.

Here's what the kids looked like after a good hour in the car. Note Jack's blue mouth-- thanks to the suckers I had hidden in the glovebox they were quite content.
Here’s what the kids looked like after a good hour in the car. Note Jack’s blue mouth– thanks to the suckers I had hidden in the glovebox they were quite content.

My consolation prize was getting my first-ever tricker-treater at the door after the kids were zoned out on the couch watching “Cars.” A little girl about 11 years old was dressed as the devil (Halloween is still very much associated with zombies and vampires and the like…) rang our doorbell and I could hear her say to Dave, “Bonsoir, Est-ce que vous avez des bonbons à me donner?” Translation: “Good-evening, do you have any candy to give me?” I was laughing to myself as I fumbled around looking for a sucker for poor girl. I found one and then took it upon myself to help teach her a thing or two about this American “holiday.” “Tu sais, tu devrais dire ‘tryke-or-treet’ quand tu vas chez les gens.” (“You know, you’re supposed to say, ‘Trick-or-Treat (said with a really thick French accent) when you go to someone’s house.”) The little girl just stared at me. I insisted a bit more and then a bit more. I think the third time she understood that “tryke-or-treet” meant something, so she gave it a shot. I smiled and then wished her luck. Next year, I might clue her in that she should bring a bag for the candy.

Halloween is starting to pop up all over Paris. This photo was taken while walking around Lake Daumesnil earlier in the day. When I arrived in France 12 years ago it was rare to see Halloween decorations like this.

Did anyone else get stuck in traffic for 45 minutes on their way to Starbucks or Chipotle for their freebies because the local young communists were protesting? No? Well, I’d love to hear what your Halloween surprises were.

Free (or almost free) Treats in Paris on Halloween!

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If you know me, you know I love free stuff! This Saturday, October 31st, there are two fantastic deals to take advantage of in Paris:

  1. A $3 burrito at Chipotle- if you go dressed in costume.

Chipotle

2. A free Pumpkin Spice Latte at Starbucks if you go dressed in costume (they may let you slide by if you just say, “Trick or Treat” but I’m not 100% sure).Halloween PSL

Anyone want to come and babysit Saturday night? ; )

Hope to see some of you at Starbucks or Chipotle on Halloween! (And, Happy Early Birthday to my dear childhood friend, Shelly! I have lots of good memories celebrating your birthday on Halloween.)

What are your favorite freebies where you live?

A Two-Year-Old’s Perspective on the Eiffel Tower

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Sunday morning walkDaylight Saving Time happened early Sunday morning. This means our kids woke up between 5 and 5:30 A.M. instead of the comfortable 6:30 A.M. we had just gotten used to. That’s early, people! You can’t exactly reason with a four-month old and tell her she shouldn’t be awake, nor is it a good idea to put her back in the bedroom she shares with her old brother and sister. Eventually, we embraced the earlier hour and made a little side trip to the Eiffel Tower while on our way to church.

I have to clarify that we go to the Eiffel Tower about twice a year (remember my previous post where I tried to convince you we don’t eat pain au chocolat every morning?). We visit it once when friends come to visit and a second time just to remind ourselves that we do live in Paris. This trip falls into the second category.

There are some fabulous parking spots across from Ecole Militaire, which is at one end of the long promenade leading up to the Tower. At 9:30 A.M. there isn’t any competition for a spot, so we pull in and before we know it our little man is excitedly pointing out the window. What was he excited about; the Eiffel Tower? No, there were two firetrucks parked on the promenade. Of course! It is Sunday morning and instead of the firemen doing their morning footing (run) in the public park, they are playing a friendly game of soccer. So in lieu of walking toward the Tower, we checked out the firetrucks. IMG_3777This is what it means to be two years old and live in Paris, right? After my husband and I took the obligatory selfie with the Eiffel Tower (and the soccer-playing firefighters) in the background we made our way to church.

Our selfieI must have still been feeling the glow of the morning’s outing because when we stopped at Mets et Caprices on the way home from church to get a tradi (traditional baguette), I bought five mini Nutella-filled beignets (doughnuts). They were delicious and I think my husband now has to stop saying, “You just can’t find a good doughnut in Paris.”

What’s it Like Raising a Family in Paris?

~ everydayparismama ~ 11 Comments

Living in Paris can seem so glamorous to those not living in Paris. Strolls along the Seine river, munching on pain au chocolat each morning and watching pristinely dressed children push toy boats around the pond in le Jardin de Luxembourg. This is not my daily life as a mom in Paris.

Most days my life looks more like: oatmeal for breakfast, coaching my almost four year old as she dresses herself, sorting laundry, prepping the Crockpot at night for the next day, lining “vroom vrooms” up with my son, kissing my babies cheeks that smell like… well, baby and trying to tell my husband about our day over dinner. It isn’t glamorous but it’s our life and I like it.

I guess this is why I’ve started this blog… I want to pull back the curtain a bit on the “glamour” of living in the 3rd most visited city in world. I want to share with you a bit of my “everyday” as a mama in Paris. I love a great street find, easy recipes to cook, simple fashion, amazing food, wooing people, a good deal (um, free stuff) and leaning into life with my littles and husband. So, here goes!

Leave a comment and let me know:

What are your stereotypes of what life is like in Paris?