The last couple weeks have been a little difficult as we had to endure Andrew's worst illness to date. The doctor labelled it a "gastro virus", I simply call it endless diahrea. We had to change his diaper almost every two hours for 8 days straight and the worst part of it was that his bum got so red and sore that it made the diaper changes extremely painful for the poor little thing. Thank goodness I had Abuelita here to help as it took the two of us to change him several times. And she made a special loin cloth for him, which helped give his poor little bottom some air to heal. Although he remained his adorable self, he became increasingly ridden with separation anxiety and freaked out whenever momma left his side. Once he finally recovered from the virus, he came down with a mid-grade fever that wouldn't go down. Since there were no other symptoms other than fever, we concluded that it must be due to teething...and he now has one and a half teeth, so at 11 months and one day, he's bound to get a whole bunch all at once. Nevertheless, we kept a close eye on him, and even brought him into our bed to sleep at night so that we could monitor his temperature throughout the night.
Fever gone, diahrea gone, on Sunday, Daddy and I had our first real date in a very, very loooong time...and it was amazing! We started the day off with a 10K race in Grasse, the famous village where most of the French perfume is made. Our race packet even included a free bottle of perfume/cologne, which I happen to absolutely love. The course was stunningly beautiful, in the picturesque and very mountainous region of the south of France. From there, we went home, showered and got ready for a play at the little theatre in old town. It is the only English production of the season so we were very happy to be able to attend. Afterwards, we walked through the old town and waited until 7:00pm when the kitchens open in the local restaurants and had the most amazing French dinner, complete with 3 courses, wine and of course plenty of French bread. Andrew was a saint for his Abuelita that day (or so she tells us anyway!) and he slept through the night that very same day. A perfect ending to a perfect day!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
La fete des olives!
November 11, 2007
This afternoon we went olive picking at my friend Karin's Annual Olive Party. She is an American, married to a Frenchman, and they live on a beautiful property that was formerly an olive tree farm. Every year they host an olive party where basically, you pick olives off her trees with these long rake type things, they fall into nets that have been placed all around the trees, dump them into bins, separate them from the leaves that have also fallen and take them to be pressed into olive oil. For me, it was a really neat experience, and I'm very excited for the litre of olive oil that we have "made".
On Saturday, the weather was perfect, so we took a long family drive around the surrounding villages and cities after our early morning swim class with Andrew. We started off with a coastal drive into Cannes and ended up in the quaint little village of Biot, where we walked around and got pastry from the local "Patisserie".
This afternoon we went olive picking at my friend Karin's Annual Olive Party. She is an American, married to a Frenchman, and they live on a beautiful property that was formerly an olive tree farm. Every year they host an olive party where basically, you pick olives off her trees with these long rake type things, they fall into nets that have been placed all around the trees, dump them into bins, separate them from the leaves that have also fallen and take them to be pressed into olive oil. For me, it was a really neat experience, and I'm very excited for the litre of olive oil that we have "made".
On Saturday, the weather was perfect, so we took a long family drive around the surrounding villages and cities after our early morning swim class with Andrew. We started off with a coastal drive into Cannes and ended up in the quaint little village of Biot, where we walked around and got pastry from the local "Patisserie".
Abuelita has arrived!
November 8, 2007
We've long anticipated our first visitor here in France for a multitude of reasons. We miss her and are anxious for her to see how her precious and first and only grandchild is thriving. We want to go on a baby-less date. We want to get caught up on our heaps of mail. And we want to share the beauty and joys of this area with her.
We've long anticipated our first visitor here in France for a multitude of reasons. We miss her and are anxious for her to see how her precious and first and only grandchild is thriving. We want to go on a baby-less date. We want to get caught up on our heaps of mail. And we want to share the beauty and joys of this area with her.
Sleepless in Antibes!
November 2, 2007
Ok, so whoever said that a baby will be sleeping through the night after 3 months must have been smoking some serious crack. I've learned by now to not get excited if he sleeps through one night as the routine will most definitely not continue. And it hasn't. Perhaps the number of major transitions, beds, time zones and climates hasn't helped any, but Andrew has not been a consistent sleeper, daytime or nights. Lately, he is waking up in the night, and ready to play (or cry) for a couple hours. It used to be that I could always just nurse him and within 10 or 15 minutes, he'd be out cold and I'd put him back to sleep. It seems those days are over now too. The good news is that I can call my friends or family back home at 3:00 in the morning my time, and get caught up with everyone. The bad news is that I am rather exhausted and completely brain-dead. In the midst of a conversation with any one of my mom friends, a distraction will cause me to completely forget what I was talking about, and my only consolation is that none of them remember either! I especially like talking to Pam, because I know she can empathize with me better than anyone else out there! (sorry Pam - I do hope that Beckett will eventually like to catch some zzz's throughout the night!) For this reason, I am very glad that I am writing this blog and seriously hope to be able to keep up with it, as I have already learned that I cannot remember the details of Andrew's earlier days. I pulled out the Baby Book the other day and in an attempt to complete the "firsts" section, I sadly discovered that I couldn't remember the specific dates of any of them...the first time he sat up by himself...who knows? The only one I've got licked is his first tooth...as it just came in recently and it is his only one!
Ok, so whoever said that a baby will be sleeping through the night after 3 months must have been smoking some serious crack. I've learned by now to not get excited if he sleeps through one night as the routine will most definitely not continue. And it hasn't. Perhaps the number of major transitions, beds, time zones and climates hasn't helped any, but Andrew has not been a consistent sleeper, daytime or nights. Lately, he is waking up in the night, and ready to play (or cry) for a couple hours. It used to be that I could always just nurse him and within 10 or 15 minutes, he'd be out cold and I'd put him back to sleep. It seems those days are over now too. The good news is that I can call my friends or family back home at 3:00 in the morning my time, and get caught up with everyone. The bad news is that I am rather exhausted and completely brain-dead. In the midst of a conversation with any one of my mom friends, a distraction will cause me to completely forget what I was talking about, and my only consolation is that none of them remember either! I especially like talking to Pam, because I know she can empathize with me better than anyone else out there! (sorry Pam - I do hope that Beckett will eventually like to catch some zzz's throughout the night!) For this reason, I am very glad that I am writing this blog and seriously hope to be able to keep up with it, as I have already learned that I cannot remember the details of Andrew's earlier days. I pulled out the Baby Book the other day and in an attempt to complete the "firsts" section, I sadly discovered that I couldn't remember the specific dates of any of them...the first time he sat up by himself...who knows? The only one I've got licked is his first tooth...as it just came in recently and it is his only one!
Halloween
October 31, 2007
Not knowing if and what France does in celebration of Halloween, I bought Burbujitas an adorable little bumble bee costume before we moved here. I figured that if they didn't celebrate Halloween here, I would make my own celebration...which is exactly what I ended up doing. However, three of the four moms I had invited over for a morning play date had cancelled, two because their babies were ill, and the third (my best friend here to date), to my chagrin, moved back to England the day before rather unexpectedly due to the sudden loss of her husband's job. Nevertheless, I was all excited in the morning, and dressed Andrew up in his costume anyway, and he looked absolutely, absolutely adorable. One of my British friends called me and invited me to a little celebration in the afternoon but it ended up pouring rain, so we couldn't go. In the end, my American friend, someone I've become quite close to now, came over with her 7 month old and we celebrated very low-key and took lots of photos. It was the first time I felt somewhat homesick...I would have paraded Andrew around to everybody I know, treak-or-treating stops at all the neighbours, and especially a visit into work, where I knew the festivities would be blossoming. Every year at Life Care, I dressed up in my famous cow costume, encouraged my department to go all out, and looked like a total fool, but had a million laughs. I was so incredibly touched to receive in the mail, a week later, a slideshow CD of the Life Care Halloween for 2007, that included photos of me in years past, and a special photo of Andrew in his bumble bee costume that I had previously emailed, in addition to all of my work friends and their current year's attire. Next year, I'll be a little more prepared for the lack of celebration here, and perhaps make a bigger effort to celebrate American-style in France. I've been told that the French are resistant to the imposition of American culture but this is one celebration that I am bound and determined to share with my little Burbujitas, no matter where we happen to be living!
Not knowing if and what France does in celebration of Halloween, I bought Burbujitas an adorable little bumble bee costume before we moved here. I figured that if they didn't celebrate Halloween here, I would make my own celebration...which is exactly what I ended up doing. However, three of the four moms I had invited over for a morning play date had cancelled, two because their babies were ill, and the third (my best friend here to date), to my chagrin, moved back to England the day before rather unexpectedly due to the sudden loss of her husband's job. Nevertheless, I was all excited in the morning, and dressed Andrew up in his costume anyway, and he looked absolutely, absolutely adorable. One of my British friends called me and invited me to a little celebration in the afternoon but it ended up pouring rain, so we couldn't go. In the end, my American friend, someone I've become quite close to now, came over with her 7 month old and we celebrated very low-key and took lots of photos. It was the first time I felt somewhat homesick...I would have paraded Andrew around to everybody I know, treak-or-treating stops at all the neighbours, and especially a visit into work, where I knew the festivities would be blossoming. Every year at Life Care, I dressed up in my famous cow costume, encouraged my department to go all out, and looked like a total fool, but had a million laughs. I was so incredibly touched to receive in the mail, a week later, a slideshow CD of the Life Care Halloween for 2007, that included photos of me in years past, and a special photo of Andrew in his bumble bee costume that I had previously emailed, in addition to all of my work friends and their current year's attire. Next year, I'll be a little more prepared for the lack of celebration here, and perhaps make a bigger effort to celebrate American-style in France. I've been told that the French are resistant to the imposition of American culture but this is one celebration that I am bound and determined to share with my little Burbujitas, no matter where we happen to be living!
It's time to drive in France!
Monday, October 22, 2007
Up until today, I've been quite fine with the idea of walking or taking the bus everywhere I want to go and I'm quite proud of myself for having found the bus routes to all the baby groups, despite the total lack of information provided on the "Envibus" website, let alone the bitchy, unhelpful customer service people on the phone. So "French". The expression "C'est la vie" was definitely invented here...people here just seem to accept the total lack of service and efficiency that you would find back "home". When you call a business, and the person you need is not available, you are told to call back, never once has anyone offered to take my name and number, so I have learned to just continue dialing in the hopes that, eventually, I will get through to the person I need. Anyway, back to driving, the thought of driving here had me paralyzed with fear in May, when I discovered how narrow the roads are, how fast the people drive, how crappy or non-existent the road signs are and how many big, huge scary round-abouts there are, for which Robert, to this day, doesn't know the proper rules and has driven aimlessly in circles in an attempt to take the intended exit. Today, however, I decided I better conquer those fears real fast. We got on the bus at 9:05am (the internet said it came at 8:45, so we were there at 8:40) to go to the Monday morning baby group in Sophia-Antipolis, a 20-minute drive away. We had a wonderful hour and a half play-time, and left promptly at 11:00 am to catch the 11:17 bus home. At noon, still waiting anxiously for the bus, and getting increasingly hungry and cold, I decided I better nurse Andrew as he will be grumpy on the bus ride home otherwise. 12:30 rolls around, and I'm getting anxious and frustrated, hungrier and colder (it was one of the coldest days so far), still no bus. At 1:00, I call Robert on my cell phone, only to discover that his U.S. cell phone number is not working on my phone anymore. Fortunately, I had a jar of baby food and a handful of Cheerios to keep Andrew going for a while, figuring the bus is bound to come by any minute. Nope...no bus. 2:00 rolls around and the other people waiting for a bus had all given up and taken taxis, an option not available to me, as I did not have a car seat for Andrew, and even if I wanted to take the chance, the taxi drivers would not. The only friend's phone number I had memorized, was not available, and even if she was, she doesn't even have a driver's license, so she wouldn't have been much help anyway. Desperate, I started searching through the previous caller displays and found a colleague of Robert's phone number so I called her to see if she could walk to Robert's office and ask him to call me. Fortunately, she answered, but informed me that she was in New York on a business trip. By this point, tears are streaming down my face, but I didn't want to seem too panicked on the phone so I just told her that I really needed to reach Robert and she graciously sent an email to Robert's assistant who paged Robert to call me and by the time I heard Robert's voice, I was hysterical. Deep down, I knew that somehow, someway, I would make it home, but it was a scary feeling to be stranded 10 miles away from home, in a foreign country, with my little boy. Robert immediately asked me where I was so that he could come and pick us up, and I was even more hysterical when I discovered that I really had no idea where I was. All I knew was that I was at a bus stop in Sophia-Antipolis, where the #1 bus is supposed to come and pick us up! After some help from his French colleagues, he got directions to the baby group, which had long since closed, and finally came to the rescue, not before lecturing me on having all of his phone numbers handy, along with specific directions of everywhere I go from now on. I know he was only worried about us, but even without his lecture, I learned many lessons that day. And I realized I needed to conquer the fears and drive in France. As it turned out, the bus drivers went on strike for the rest of the day, something I've now learned happens quite often here. This weekend, we're going driving!
Up until today, I've been quite fine with the idea of walking or taking the bus everywhere I want to go and I'm quite proud of myself for having found the bus routes to all the baby groups, despite the total lack of information provided on the "Envibus" website, let alone the bitchy, unhelpful customer service people on the phone. So "French". The expression "C'est la vie" was definitely invented here...people here just seem to accept the total lack of service and efficiency that you would find back "home". When you call a business, and the person you need is not available, you are told to call back, never once has anyone offered to take my name and number, so I have learned to just continue dialing in the hopes that, eventually, I will get through to the person I need. Anyway, back to driving, the thought of driving here had me paralyzed with fear in May, when I discovered how narrow the roads are, how fast the people drive, how crappy or non-existent the road signs are and how many big, huge scary round-abouts there are, for which Robert, to this day, doesn't know the proper rules and has driven aimlessly in circles in an attempt to take the intended exit. Today, however, I decided I better conquer those fears real fast. We got on the bus at 9:05am (the internet said it came at 8:45, so we were there at 8:40) to go to the Monday morning baby group in Sophia-Antipolis, a 20-minute drive away. We had a wonderful hour and a half play-time, and left promptly at 11:00 am to catch the 11:17 bus home. At noon, still waiting anxiously for the bus, and getting increasingly hungry and cold, I decided I better nurse Andrew as he will be grumpy on the bus ride home otherwise. 12:30 rolls around, and I'm getting anxious and frustrated, hungrier and colder (it was one of the coldest days so far), still no bus. At 1:00, I call Robert on my cell phone, only to discover that his U.S. cell phone number is not working on my phone anymore. Fortunately, I had a jar of baby food and a handful of Cheerios to keep Andrew going for a while, figuring the bus is bound to come by any minute. Nope...no bus. 2:00 rolls around and the other people waiting for a bus had all given up and taken taxis, an option not available to me, as I did not have a car seat for Andrew, and even if I wanted to take the chance, the taxi drivers would not. The only friend's phone number I had memorized, was not available, and even if she was, she doesn't even have a driver's license, so she wouldn't have been much help anyway. Desperate, I started searching through the previous caller displays and found a colleague of Robert's phone number so I called her to see if she could walk to Robert's office and ask him to call me. Fortunately, she answered, but informed me that she was in New York on a business trip. By this point, tears are streaming down my face, but I didn't want to seem too panicked on the phone so I just told her that I really needed to reach Robert and she graciously sent an email to Robert's assistant who paged Robert to call me and by the time I heard Robert's voice, I was hysterical. Deep down, I knew that somehow, someway, I would make it home, but it was a scary feeling to be stranded 10 miles away from home, in a foreign country, with my little boy. Robert immediately asked me where I was so that he could come and pick us up, and I was even more hysterical when I discovered that I really had no idea where I was. All I knew was that I was at a bus stop in Sophia-Antipolis, where the #1 bus is supposed to come and pick us up! After some help from his French colleagues, he got directions to the baby group, which had long since closed, and finally came to the rescue, not before lecturing me on having all of his phone numbers handy, along with specific directions of everywhere I go from now on. I know he was only worried about us, but even without his lecture, I learned many lessons that day. And I realized I needed to conquer the fears and drive in France. As it turned out, the bus drivers went on strike for the rest of the day, something I've now learned happens quite often here. This weekend, we're going driving!
Our first family 10K!
Sunday, October 8, 2007
This morning he headed off to the Cap d'Antibes, the famous celebrity vacation destination, to compete in our first family 10K race: "Courrir pour des Fleurs d'Antibes" - translates to "Run for the flowers" and each person crossing the finish line was given a pretty little flower. Before doing so however, there were a lot of preparations, the least of which were the actual training. In France, a medical certificate is required to participate in any sporting event; therefore, both Robert and I had to find a family doctor and get a "physical", along with a letter stating that we were fit to run in the upcoming race! Then of course we had to prepare for Andrew. Since we decided in advance that Daddy was going to push the jogging stroller, and this was the first time we've done such an event, I wanted to make sure that Andrew's bag was well stocked: diapers, wipes, bananas, fruit jars, vegetable jars, Arrowroot cookies, Cheerios, blankets, sweaters, toys...not realizing how much weight I was actually adding to the load. The course was absolutely breathtaking, with the Mediterranean and mountains surrounding us, I was so distracted by the beauty of it all, that the rather hilly course didn't seem too bad. When I crossed the finish line, I found I still had some energy so I started to run the course backwards in search of Daddy and Burbujitas. To my surprise, they were not too far away and from the distance, I could see the smile on Robert's face and hear the crowd cheering away for the "bebe". Andrew slept nearly the whole way, all the while fellow runners and fans cheered him on. I've never seen Robert so proud in my life! When I approached them, I asked Robert if he wanted me to push the stroller to the finish line to give him a break and he said quite succintly, "not a chance - Andrew and I are finishing this thing together"! Despite the total lack of training, the 50 lb diaper bag I threw in the stroller and the steep hills, Robert completed the course in record timing, all thanks to the little Mr. Motivation, fast asleep in the stroller that he was pushing along.
After the race, we went for a long walk along the boardwalk in Juan-Les-Pins, the neighboring city to Antibes, and sat for a while to watch a beach Foot-Volley tournament. Foot-Volley is like Volleyball, but the rules are like soccer. You kick the ball to serve from a mound built up on the beach and only your feet, head and chest may touch the ball. It was quite cool to see how good these guys were.
When we got home, we had a nice breakfast in our back yard and read all of the race brochures to decide which one(s) to register for next!
This morning he headed off to the Cap d'Antibes, the famous celebrity vacation destination, to compete in our first family 10K race: "Courrir pour des Fleurs d'Antibes" - translates to "Run for the flowers" and each person crossing the finish line was given a pretty little flower. Before doing so however, there were a lot of preparations, the least of which were the actual training. In France, a medical certificate is required to participate in any sporting event; therefore, both Robert and I had to find a family doctor and get a "physical", along with a letter stating that we were fit to run in the upcoming race! Then of course we had to prepare for Andrew. Since we decided in advance that Daddy was going to push the jogging stroller, and this was the first time we've done such an event, I wanted to make sure that Andrew's bag was well stocked: diapers, wipes, bananas, fruit jars, vegetable jars, Arrowroot cookies, Cheerios, blankets, sweaters, toys...not realizing how much weight I was actually adding to the load. The course was absolutely breathtaking, with the Mediterranean and mountains surrounding us, I was so distracted by the beauty of it all, that the rather hilly course didn't seem too bad. When I crossed the finish line, I found I still had some energy so I started to run the course backwards in search of Daddy and Burbujitas. To my surprise, they were not too far away and from the distance, I could see the smile on Robert's face and hear the crowd cheering away for the "bebe". Andrew slept nearly the whole way, all the while fellow runners and fans cheered him on. I've never seen Robert so proud in my life! When I approached them, I asked Robert if he wanted me to push the stroller to the finish line to give him a break and he said quite succintly, "not a chance - Andrew and I are finishing this thing together"! Despite the total lack of training, the 50 lb diaper bag I threw in the stroller and the steep hills, Robert completed the course in record timing, all thanks to the little Mr. Motivation, fast asleep in the stroller that he was pushing along.
After the race, we went for a long walk along the boardwalk in Juan-Les-Pins, the neighboring city to Antibes, and sat for a while to watch a beach Foot-Volley tournament. Foot-Volley is like Volleyball, but the rules are like soccer. You kick the ball to serve from a mound built up on the beach and only your feet, head and chest may touch the ball. It was quite cool to see how good these guys were.
When we got home, we had a nice breakfast in our back yard and read all of the race brochures to decide which one(s) to register for next!
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