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.
Daylight 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. This 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.
I 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.”
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?