I was never one of those kids holed up in their room reading a good book all day.  I preferred playing outside over reading.  I am finding as I am getting older that a good book is like a present waiting to be opened.  I love being transported to another time and place.  
 
I quickly realized that I was spending a small fortune at the W.H. Smith, a lovely English bookstore in the heart of Paris.  Another favorite is Galignani which has both French and English books and we can't forget FNAC (which are large electronic/video/book stores all over the city as well as Western Europe), they have a lovely selection of books in French and a small selection written in English. 

I was excited to discover "The American Library of Paris". It's larger than our library back home, more dated and dark, but full of gifts for young and old.  It is located near the Eiffel Tower and our routine is to go to the library every two to three weeks, grab some books for the entire family and a few DVD's and then hit the park with our picnic lunch.  We look forward to it and I am trying to imprint the association of books and fun on the children's hearts.   

There is a fee to join the library but it is worth it.  A yearly membership for an entire family is 155 euro's and you may check out as many books as you'd like as well as videos.  There are less expensive fees for singles and couples and they also have 6 month memberships. 

For all of you readers out there, I will list some of my favorite reads over the last couple of months.  (I will try to type them in my "reading" section of the blog with a brief description too).

~"The Help" by Kathryn Stockett (One of my all time favorite books) 
~"Angela's Ashes" by Frank McCourt
~"Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen
~"Roses" by Leila Meacham
~"Everyday in Tuscany" by Frances Mayes
~"Building a House with my Husband" by Rachel Simon

Children's books to read in the evening before bed.....

~"The Swiss Family Robinson" by Johann D. Wyes  (they loved this  adventure)
~"Black Beauty" by Ann Sewell (I enjoyed reading this as much as the kids enjoyed  listening to it)
~"Little House in the Big Woods" by Laura Ingalls Wilder (I loved these books as a little girl and now the kids are hooked; even Dan is hooked.)

I would love to hear about your favorite adult and children's books. 

A warm Spring day, the bedroom window open wide, birds singing, their tiny feet perched on branches and a child in the courtyard below coo'ing for his mother.  These are the sounds that fill our bedroom.  I lay on our sun soaked duvet, sinking into it's feathers, a beautiful book sits next to me beckoning to be opened.

I feel almost giddy about my luck of a quiet retreat with a new book to dive into.  Max brought me to this place; he was tired and wanted my company.   He has long since gone, and I still ly on our bed watching a feather dancing in the air, swept into the window by the breeze, it slowly descends into my lap.

Our bed sits very low,  I am hidden from the prying eyes of other apartment occupants.  I lazily admire the crackled golden paint on the building.  The worn paint on the window frame dumps paint fragments whenever I open our window. 

For some reason, these imperfections are beautiful to me.  They are charming and add character to this old building.

I think of my imperfections, the cracks in my character.  I want to learn to accept those cracks that cannot be filled but are for the most part, who I am. 

The challenge for me is to know which cracks can be fixed by God's hands.  I need to be open to those things that require change but also give myself the grace to embrace my imperfections. 

I need to take hold of II Corinthians 12:9-10  "In weakness I am made strong."  A constant reminder to allow God to use my cracks and crumbles for His good.

The French children do not go to school on Wednesdays.  I decided to make Wednesday our day to explore Paris; expose the kids to museums, monuments, parks and the like. 

I took the kids to Musee' d'Orsay a few weeks ago to see what they would think of this museum full of impressionist art. 

First, I must begin by saying that if you are coming to Paris, bring a child.  Do whatever you can to have a little one by your side because you will not have to wait in line to most museums, even the airport check-in line.  I can't tell you how many times, we have been told to proceed to another entrance (one without a line) because we have small children.  I am not guaranteeing this everytime but I would say it has happened to me 4 out of 5 times.  It's fabulous! 

I digress, this particular museum is stunning inside, I love the large clock and the long alleyway in the middle of the museum with sunlight pouring through the glass ceiling.  The restaurant upstairs is beyond beautiful and the tea service looked lovely. 

I must say that I am not a museum person, I tend to stand in front of a painting, scratch my head and try to figure out what it is that I am looking at; what is so important about this or that particular painting.  The way I see it is that hopefully maybe Max or Sophie will "get it" or enjoy a particular piece and want to learn more about the artist, etc.    

The kids lasted about an hour and a half which was fine with me.  I had my fill as well of trying to maneuver them swiftly when a very descriptive picture of someones head was cut off of their body; blood squirting out in every direction.   

We found these interesting coloring books by number where the children can recreate the original artists masterpieces.

Another lovely Wednesday exploring Paris with the kids...........

There are many "hoops" to jump through to become a permanent resident in France.  Our temporary visa's have expired as of a couple of days ago.  When we inquired about this, the authorities shrugged it off that the government is a bit overwhelmed right now and they will be processed soon..  Inside I thought, "okay, but we are traveling in and out of the country....what is going to happen when an official gets a look at my passport?"  Hmmm. 

Today I had to go to the "Perfecture de Police" to jump through another hoop and obtain my "temporary residency" card.  Thank goodness Dan's company has hired a company to keep track of all of these things we need to do, forms to complete, etc.  A representative who speaks French met me inside the beautiful building which faces Notre Dame.  The inside was lovely but like any government agency; we picked a number and  waited and waited (even though we had an appointment).  Once our number was called, we entered a breathtaking room with a killer view and a large arched window freshly painted in a crisp white outlining the windowpanes.  It was unbelievably beautiful.  All of my paperwork sat before a women who asked me to fill out more forms.  The representative helped me when I had a question.  A few minutes later and I had my "temporary residency card" in hand.  

My next hoop will be my medical exam, if I have no cootie's, they will then issue a permanent residency card.  All of these hoops for such a short stay......it is still worth playing this crazy game.        

We have already had our share of "medical emergencies" that I won't go into because God is good and he is directing us to wonderful, caring, capable Doctors.  We have seen three seperate Doctors in the last three months and I thought it might be interesting for ya'll to hear of the differences between French and American Doctors and medical practice.

First and foremost, it is quite difficult finding specialists that speak English. 

Second, once you do have your appointment, which is generally 3 to 5 weeks "down the road", you might have trouble locating said Doctor.  Offices are not in large medical buildings with proper signage directing you to their office building.  No, they are housed in apartment buildings.  They generally forget to tell you the code to enter the building so you must wait until someone exits and sneak in real "quick like".  You will then stand behind another locked door, searching the apartment residents for the name of your Doctor, you will push the button and they will buzz you in (without telling you what floor the Doctor is on).  Next, be prepared to climb up each flight of stairs searching for the Doctors name on the apartment doors.  Once you find it, the door will be locked and you will need to buzz once again to be let in.  


The Doctor will meet you at the door.  You will not see a front desk, or a nurse in uniform.  The walls are not painted with murals of animals and fairies; there are no aquariums to keep your little darling amused.  The Doctor will direct you to a living room with a couple of couches and books and you will wait.  You will not have to wait nearly as long as in the states. 

Once the Doctor is ready for you he/she will ask you to come into their office.  Their "office" is a desk in a large room with an examining table on the opposite side.  Be prepared to sit down with your child and have the Doctor inquire of your reason for visiting; they will ask many questions, they will speak to the child directly, (not in a cutesy voice but very seriously).   They will tell your child to take off their clothes off, and continue to question the parent.

Once the Doctor feels they have all the information necessary, the child will be directed to a small table to be examined.  The Doctor will not feel the childs belly and say "I can feel waffles, did you have them for breakfast?" or look in their ears and tell them "they can see spiderman".  Everything is quite serious.  They will perform what seems like odd exercises with the child; old school Doctoring. 

Once the battery of tests is performed, they will give you their honest assessment and opinion.  They will direct you to specialists to be certain that their diagnosis is correct.

Upon leaving, there are no stickers and lollipops dispensed.  Just a "au revoir" and a smile. 

All in all, I have been extremely pleased with the care that has been given to us.  The care is different in appearance but all the same and in some cases better than what I have found in the United States. 

Please rest assured that we are all very healthy and it looks like we will all remain that way.   Although the Doctors have been lovely, let's pray we won't have to spend anymore time locating their offices and spending hours with them. 

From the day Dan and I married, I have always had a garden.  One of the first things I do when we move into a new home, is plant flowers.  There is something about getting my hands dirty, working the soil, and creating my flower beds in my mind and on paper.  I am like a kid in a candy store exploring the local nurseries. 

This weekend was no different.  Although, lugging soil, window boxes, tables, chairs and plants took a lot longer and more planning. 

Our little garden has been in the works for a couple of weeks.  I have made purchases here and there and lugged them home using "les wheels" (my workhorse) and my son (my other workhorse).  He is so much like his Father; so very capable, such a helper and so strong. 

I was certain that my flower boxes would have red geraniums.  I can't wait for them to spill over the sides of the railing.  I have a shady corner on the balcony and purchased a beautiful lace fern, a bright pink fuschia along with a fragrant gardenia. 

Walk into our apartment, look to the right and this is what you will see.  It puts an instant smile on my face.  I love pretty things, I love little vignettes of beautiful spaces.  This little balcony is my new outdoor room. 

Wrought iron and the beautiful scrollwork takes my breath away.  The bright white chairs make it pop.

We have two balconies that get morning sunlight.  One is large enough for a few plants and the table and chairs.  The other is not very deep and holds two window boxes and a small ivy.

Max and I enjoying the morning sun, and a cup of coffee from my favorite mug my Dad sent to me.  I think of him every morning, I somehow love him even more than I thought possible 5000 miles away from his caring eyes and winning smile. 

I adore the morning sunlight spilling into our living and dining room, I am so thankful that I have a place to sit and watch the world go by.  I am so glad that the kids enjoy our new outdoor room; they have already sat coloring and eating snacks.  I am tickled that Dan loves it, that he takes the time to squirm into the tiny chairs, knees knocking against the table, sun in his eyes, admiring our new room. 

It's been a busy day and I am having a blast.  Max and I have enjoyed searching for flowers and planting the quintessential European window box bursting with red geraniums. 

I'll be back tomorrow with the "big reveal".  My own little Garden of Eden.....

I have been stuck at home all week with sick kids.  The weather has been absolutely beautiful.  I kept wishing that they would have been sick when it was raining, cold and dreary. 

Finding Max reading to his sick sister made me thankful to be a stay at home Mom.  Little snippets of everyday life with Max and Sophie reinforce the gift that being a Mother truly is.  There will be plenty of beautiful, warm days in Paris to explore. 

For now, my job is to care for my little chicks, which is what I longed to do for so many years.  They are growing up so fast and this window of mothering is so small, it will be over before I know it.   I need to remember what a gift and an honor it is to be their mother.  

It is Thursday morning, I sit underneath a laundry line that Dan has created; clothes are inches from my head, half of them have turned blue because of a very old shirt.   I am homeschooling the children when I hear a trumpet blowing "When the saints, go marching in.........oh when the saints go marching in.........".  We get up from the table and look outside to see a happy fellow walking in step to his music.

He walks by the apartment about once a week.  I am sure he rides the metro, his cart rigged up with a stereo, blaring his songs, hoping for a few centimes.  As I watch him, he puts his trumpet down, and continues walking, yet, the trumpet is still blaring.  Hmmmmmm.

I come back to the table, try to get the kids to refocus.  I am laughing quietly......this is my new life. 

I think homeschooling is great, if that is what you want for your family but I never thought it would be a part of my life.  It is not my passion, I do my best and pray that I am not screwing up.

Hanging up our laundry to dry earlier in the morning, I was thinking "this is soooo not me........my Mom, yes.......but not me".  Then I heard a small whisper......."do EVERYTHING heartily for God WITHOUT grumbling or complaining".   Hmmmm, I wonder who that was?   Okay, I hear you and I will do all things with a joyful heart.........or at least try.   

Little girls dress like little girls in France; sweet collars, puffed sleeves, oh my.  Sophie was in desperate need of jammies and I was happily surprised to see these sweet cotton jammies at Monoprix (think Target). 

They have little red buttons, puffed sleeves and gathered ankles.  I was doubly pleased that Sophie loved them.  She has her own style, I'm not sure what you would call it.....eclectic tomboy chic. 

Oh, she can look so feminine and I wish she liked dresses and all things girly. 

She never liked princesses, never dressed up.  She dressed up as a cat for years.  She would crawl around meowing, eating out of a bowl on the floor if I let her (which I sometimes did).  Now she is a horse, pushing into our legs, nuzzling us and nah'ing.  She ran like a horse for months, with her neck sticking forward, head still, galloping; finally Dan told her it was not good for her to run that way and now when she does we tell her to "run like a girl" and she stops galloping and runs like a human being. 

Oh, I love my crazy curly girl!  Sophie, I love your confidence and your sense of style!!  Don't ever change.