Paris

Paris with a twist. Nothing is as it was, though nothing is unexpected. Let me just list the ways in which we departed from our routines:

1. I did not have time to glance out the window! Of course, I knew what I would see anyway: blue skies, sunshine hitting the dormers. But this morning I am in a hurry. I'm meeting up with my daughter for a walk to a far off bakery -- the Tapisserie. It's a place she likes and with good reason. Its small selection is deliciously original. 

(leaving the quiet hotel street...)

 

 

(passing the familiar)

 

We pick up come honey dipped madelines and try not to be tempted by the other stuff (I do throw in a bag of their granola -- I'm always in search of a good one)...

We walk home at a brisk clip, but still with time to chat, to review our last night, to talk about the months before us. By the time we get back to the hotel...

2. Guess who is finishing up breakfast downstairs as a threesome? Girls and dad!

 

My daughter and I grab something to munch on ...

(are you done yet?)

 

 

... then finish off the morning meal with the madelines (upstairs).

3. We were going to meet up with a friend of Primrose's -- a girl who just happens to be also in Paris this spring, but plans were adjusted at the last minute. Nonetheless, since the meetup point had been the Luxembourg Gardens, we decided to stay with the plan of playing there -- allowing the two grandgirls to have their fill of the playground and the merry-go-round.

(heading out: apple thief!)

 

 

 

 

 

4. I watched them cavort of course, 

(the climber)

 (the zip liner)

 

 

(the swinger)

 

 

(the other swinger)

 

 

(the spinner and her Irish protectors)

 

(ready to catch the rings!)

 

 

(success!)

 

 

... but I also had time to glance over to other groups in the park: the painters...

The Romanian singers... 

 

And that's just a small portion of all you can learn to love in this park.

 

 

 

5. We walk over to the nearby bakery to pick up lunch foods, but the line is long, so we're back in the Bon Marche food halls, where we get sandwiches, salads, cheeses and fruits for the kids. We eat all this at the wee park next door, along with so many others, that the benches are full. We find space on the curb, among the primroses and  forget-me-nots.

(this is what a three-year old's desire to run away looks like!)

 

 

6. From there I make a quick dash to the Chantelivre bookstore. I love it to pieces, and this time I have a real assignment for myself -- to find books with hidden pictures. The girls love this activity and I want to find ways of keeping them happy for the next 24 hours. They will be my charges while the parents go away for their own mini vacation.

7. At the hotel now, Juniper naps. Parents leave. Primrose and I keep busy with our readings.  And when the little one wakes up, I slowly get them together for an outing -- first to the store (I promised a toy)...

 

(but which one?? small and sensible please!)

 

8. ... then to dinner at L'Agata. That's me, trying to find a way to make a Parisian dinner fun -- offer pizza!

 

 

 

Agata waiters are supremely nice -- to grown ups, sure, but especially to young children. And to their credit, Primrose and Juniper were really well behaved.

 

 

 

 

 

 

(a waiter takes to the camera...)

 

 

9. Not everything can be different, novel, or unexpected. Indeed, ice cream last night was such a hit that I take the girls once again to the same place for their lovely flower-petaled cones.

 

 

 

10. And for the second night in a row I put them to bed. To me, this is a challenge, since a wee one will always find ways in which you are not following prescribed routines. Still, we do better than last night: 10:10 pm, lights out!

 

11. I sleep over in their rooms tonight. Double weirdness: sleeping in Paris but not at le Baume, and sleeping at the Pavillon but not in my room! But you know that moon... It shines brightly over all of us tonight, no matter where we lay down our heads. 

 

 

12. Bonne nuit, with love...

Paris

Okay, to be fair, I was in Paris on October 9th of last year, which, I believe, recorded the highest single day rainfall in the city ever. Puddles, running streams of water, flooded metros. You stepped outside and everything you had with you got wet. Umbrellas bumped, tempers frayed. Today and every day this week are simply the flip of a coin that landed on the upside. It is a perfectly beautiful day in Paris!

Looking out in the morning, your gaze is drawn to the sunlight touching the dormers of the building across the street.

As for breakfast -- we're pivoting. When you pull into the hotel at 10 p.m. and get the kids to bed after that, after a full day of walking the streets of the city, you're going to have to allow for a late start the next day. Rather than do a full production breakfast downstairs, we have some croissants and coffees sent up to the room so they can wake up and bathe and munch all at the same time. This is the time being a grandmother, staying in a separate room cuts me some slack. While parents attend to the rituals of parenting, I go down for a quiet, solo breakfast.

I watch the couple at the next table -- Americans, both. She is obviously pregnant and I think -- all over the planet there are young people just starting on the grand journey of parenthood, not knowing what awaits them. These two are the lucky ones of course. They will be off to a good start. From a rich country, with solid pocket money (Paris, nice hotel). I hope they know that. You can't choose where you will have been born. Postwar Poland, with Soviet troops at the borders, house without electricity or indoor plumbing -- those were my first three years of life. And so many people have it so much worse! My dad got lucky. To his credit, he always appreciated it. My mom thought she had the most difficult life on the planet. My dad knew better. I know better. As I sit here now munching my pain au chocolat, I know damn well that all my efforts at getting to this point were nothing compared to the luck I've had that allowed me to be here, at this time, with my cappuccino and my croissants.

After my breakfast, I check in on the young family. Well there's a happy duo!

 

 

 

And we are off again! The goal today is to walk across the river to the islands (for the Notre Dame sighting)...

 

 

 

 (springtime in Paris....)

 

 

(a Paris souvenir)

 

 

(one more...)

 

 

(the lines to enter are too long, but the best stuff is really on the outside!)

 

... and a stroll over to the Isle Saint Louis... 

 

 (crossing over...)

 

.... and from there, all the way to the Place des Vosges. It's nearly an hour of walking, but the legs are strong, the sun is bright and for goodness sake, we are in Paris!

 

(playing the "let's find the icons" game which spread like wildfire all over Paris; you get the app and score points by finding the tiled icon on city walls...)

My daughter found a lunch place on the square, under the old arcades, one that also has exquisite classic French pastries. Carette. It actually has a long history in the city, but not in this neighborhood. This second one opened just recently so I forgive myself for never hearing about it.

It's the perfect place to have omelettes and club sandwiches of course. 

 

 

 

But the pieces de resistance are the pastries. And a hot chocolate served with chantilly cream on the side.

Juniper, however, prefers a bowl of red fruits!

After lunch, we watch the kids play by the fountain in the small park that is so much the gem of this very Parisian square.

Fountains and little kids are match made in heaven. And if you tell them "don't get wet!" they get a real thrill in letting the drops land "by accident" on them.

From there, they continue their stroll through the neighborhood. And I catch the bus back to the Left Bank. I need a pause. A review, a refresh. 

Not for long. Primrose and her mom and I have a date to look at kids clothes.

We pick dresses for her and her sister and t-shirts for the cousins.

 

 

 

And then the parents take off for an evening on the town. The kids are under my charge. 

I thought hard where to take them for dinner. Primrose is, of course, at an age where eating out is not a big deal. Juniper can also be positively angelic (and has been thus far) even when asked to sit still and quietly for the duration of a Parisian meal (which is always long). Or, she can be energetic and spunky. I decided Les Editeurs is a good bet. The menu is varied. The seating is spacious. And though it has a serious clientele, it isn't really stuffy. I remember one dinner there where I was babysitting Snowdrop (age 4) and Sparrow (age 1.5). Me and them. (I was younger!) All was fine until Smowdrop asked to use the bathroom. It's upstairs. She needed help getting there. I asked the waiter to keep an eye on Sparrow who was ensconced in some scribbles and ran up with her in my arms. (Way younger!)  Luckily, he never noticed our departure! I dont think I'd try that one again, but surely I can manage with a 3 year old and a 7 year old, right? Even if they most assuredly will be the only kids in the restaurant?

 

 

 

Phew! The entire dinner went way better than it might have. It helped that Les Editeurs has great burgers and fries. And that Juniper could steal all my mango from my Poke bowl. And whisk out every last bit of ketchup with her fries.

 

 

 

After, I take them to the Bucci neighborhood for ice cream.

 

 

 

 

There are many giggles on the walk home. Many. Giggles. And yes, it is very late by the time we come back to their rooms and even later before I got them to bed. Still, it was a winner evening. And a winner day!

It's a matter of good behavior, good training, good prep work, but mostly, let's face it -- it's a matter of plain old luck.

Exhale. And smile...

With so much love...