Bus

Several weeks back, Robert and I began discussing his upcoming travel schedule and Robert was seriously concerned to be leaving me for 2+ weeks alone with the kids for the first time. I figured I would perhaps be a little tired, but that I would be just FINE. And now, with only two more sleeps til Daddy comes home, I've proved it. Even despite the couple "hic-cups" I had, first with Andrew getting the flu and being off school for 4 days, then with Ryan spiking a fever, and then with Andrew's school closing entirely because of the swine flu, we actually managed extremely well. In a very short time, Andrew has become a little helper with his brother, and has actually been a total angel these past couple weeks even despite having the flu. This evening, while I was preparing dinner with Andrew's help, Ryan was in the other room on the swing and began crying, rather screaming I should say. I was about to finish what I was doing, wash my hands and go soothe him, when Andrew left, returned with Ryan's soocy, asked me to wash it cuz it was on the floor, took it back to Ryan and all of a sudden, there was peace again! Andrew is really beginning to love entertaining Ryan and often does a dance in front of him to make him smile, and then proudly states "he's laughin' at me mommy!" when Ryan's face breaks into a huge mouth-wide open smile. When I tucked him into bed tonight, Andrew said "where's baby Ryan mommy?". Sooooooooo cute!
There are some days, however, where Andrew can indeed wake up on the wrong side of the bed and push my buttons all day long (and he definitely already knows how!) But those moments are far outweighed by the good ones.
The tough part about this past week has been that BOTH boys have woken up TWICE every night. Ryan is on his expected 3-month growth spurt and feeding often. Andrew has had a fever and has just need some extra comforting, or sometimes "cold water" or sometimes "kleenex for my boogers!". But I have survived just fine. And the truth is...as a fellow blogger recently put it...I would jump in front of a bus for either one of the two angels in the photos above.

"Home" for the Holidays

Yesterday, I was talking with a friend about our plans for the holidays. I found myself saying, and I quote "This year, we are staying home for the holidays". As soon as I said it, I realized it sounded kinda weird. But later on, I started reflecting on what "home" really is to me. Is it Burlington, where I spent the first 19 years of my life? Is it Oakville, the neighbouring city where my mother has laid her roots and where my other two sisters and families are close by? It's definitely not Waterloo, where I spent an amazing, albeit short, four years. Is it West Palm Beach, where I lived for 11 years, began my adult, working life, met my husband and had my first child? Or is it here now in the South of France, where Robert's head office is, and where he continues to love his job, where we've settled for the past two and a half years, where Andrew has started public school, and where my second baby was born? Robert's relocation was permanent in nature, but our intent was to stay for a few years...and yet we're already going on a few years now and have NO plans to relocate in the near future. My older sis was having a very emotional day recently with the thought of not being with the rest of the family for Christmas Day...that thought depresses me immensely too, yet at the same time, I spent the last two Christmas Days in airports going between Florida and Toronto and must admit, am very happy to NOT be travelling again, not to mention, I now have one more little man that would be tagging along. I am looking forward to going for drives through villages here, when all the pretty Christmas lights are displayed. I'm happy that we will have some quality down time as a family of four, as it is the quietest time in the office for Robert. I want to drive up to the mountains and play with Andrew and Ryan in the snow. (well, Ryan can observe from his position in the backpack carrier!) I want to watch all the Christmas specials with Andrew this year and catch up on movies and play Scrabble with Robert, and spend time socializing and entertaining friends. I don't have to spend countless hours in shopping malls as it is too difficult to exchange gifts from abroad (and unfortunately have to depend on Aunty Susie yet again to shop on my behalf for my dearest nephews and niece).
But back to my original point, the truth is, that France is beginning to feel more and more like home everyday. I still cannot see myself spending the rest of my life here (it's too far from family for one and well, I've already mentioned the other stuff in previous blog entries). Yet this week was a bit of an eye-opener for me, in a very positive way. Andrew had a fever and my family doc/pediatrician saw him within an hour of my calling him to make an appointment. He then discovered that I had a previously scheduled appointment for Ryan's 3 month check-up two days later, and took time out of his "sacred" lunch break (they are sacred here in France!) and did Ryan's exam too so that I would not have to come back. The doc then subsequently called ME the next day to check in on both boys to see how they were feeling! (Ryan happened to come down with a fever while we were in the doctor's office) When my friends became aware of the fact that Robert was out of town and I was home with two sick boys, many of them emailed or called me to offer help with groceries, whatever. Today, we took a walk to our local bakery and convenience shop. Since they were out of the usual baguette that I buy, I was asking about the other options. (after 2+ years, I still have no clue what the real difference is between baguette normale, ancienne, gros pain, etc. etc.) Anyway, I ordered a new type of loaf, and she gave it to me for free. Then we stopped in at the convenience store/fruit market since Andrew pointed to the apples on the outside display and wanted one. (since his appetite has really diminished this past week, I'm happy to feed him whatever he wants to eat) So, we went in to buy the one apple, and not only did he give it to Andrew for free, but he went to the back of the shop and washed it for him first. And just the other day, we received an invitation from some of our American friends to come and enjoy a traditional Thanksgiving feast with them at their place. Home or not, it feels really good to be here.

Raclette & International friendships

Last Friday I was invited for a delicious french specialty dish (raclette) that was hosted by a Singaporean friend, and shared with two Americans and a Filipino. We all have very diverse backgrounds, yet one common bond that ties us together: motherhood in the South of France. I've probably said this before but one of the things I love most about living here is the opportunity to make such amazing friendships with such an amazing and diverse group of women. Raclette is a dish cooked right at the table in a machine designed for its purpose. You melt cheese on the lower part and pour it over meat/potatoes/veggies cooked on its upper part. I found myself heavily engaged in conversation and completely unaware of how much yummy food I had consumed until I got home later that evening! To top it off, we had pumpkin pie for dessert in honour of the upcoming American Thanksgiving, along with oatmeal raisin cookies made by one of the smaller guests! I REALLY do not need to be employed to fulfill any unmet social needs. From time to time I still think about when it is that I will go back to work and also, what it is that I may want to do when I do go back. But again, I have the rest of my life to work and only these short and most precious years with my babies.
I do miss the paycheck though.

IDENTITY FRAUD = PAIN IN THE $#@!

I'm officially a victim. Of identity fraud that is.

Those who know me well know that I am a worrier. Robert, who I seriously doubt has ever spent a second worrying over anything (with exception to the health and well being of his family), jokes with me that if I won a million dollars, I'd worry over how to spend it. He thinks if everything is going well, I just call up my mom or sisters to find something new to worry about! Sadly, I think he's kinda right. I'm not like some moms (my older sis and my own momma included) who can be out somewhere in public, a beach, playground, etc. and seem totally unconcerned about the whereabouts of their child. I hold conversations at the beach with my friends, often with my back to them so that my front can be faced toward Andrew. My mother never lost an ounce of sleep waiting for one of us to get home at night...good thing she never REALLY knew what time we got in or WHAT we were REALLY doing! I can't help it. Supposedly, my mom's mom (my grandma) was a worrier, so perhaps it's in my genes. Anyway, one thing I never worried about was identity fraud. Despite the growing prevalence and ease of someone stealing your social security number and name, I guess I just never believed it would happen to me. I've never shred a single piece of personal mail. (In the workplace obviously, I strictly adhered to all the rules/laws of confidentiality, always shredding all financial and health-related documents of others). But I just didn't think it could happen to me. My bad. But I also still kinda feel that no matter how careful you are, all it takes is a criminal mind in any of the locations that do hold my name and social, i.e. IRS, former employers, credit card companies, etc. Anyway, when my mom arrived at her winter residence in Florida (where all my American/Canadian mail is now forwarded), she called in a panic one day notifying me of the past due notices coming in. I don't think it would really be so bad if I wasn't living abroad. But the problem is, I now need to sign affidavits from the companies where these purchases (laptops, televisions, etc.) were purchased with my social. The affidavits could not be sent out of the U.S. (who knows why) Therefore, they have to go to my mother, be forwarded here to France by her, signed by me AND notarized and returned to the company, all within 20 days of the affidavit being sent. My biggest problem is finding a notary public to notarize the docs. The only place I know of here, is at the US consulate in Nice, and with a newborn baby, and at 30 euros a crack for notary fee, I adamantly refuse to do it. Looks like I have finally found an alternative solution. Thank you...you know who you are. I've learned a lesson though. I will be much more careful about releasing my name and social. And I WILL start shredding my stuff. And start monitoring my credit report for a monthly fee. I am thankful that this was discovered now, and not hundreds of thousands of dollars spent later, whilst applying for a mortgage or something.
On a positive note (and very happy one), Paul is back in remission. After very serious medical complications, there are now no more leukemia cells in his marrow. And his little brother has turned out to be a perfect donor match for his bone marrow transplant. Thank you God.

Pull the plug???

I've done my research. Both with Andrew and now with Ryan. Both times, I said I wasn't going to use a pacifier. Both times I have. I held off for the first month with both boys but surrendered upon coming to the realization that their sucking needs were resulting in my breasts becoming human pacifiers. Apparently research shows that pacifier use can interfere with long-term breastfeeding. But Andrew breastfed for 16 months, which was even longer than I had intended. Most of the books say that it is ok for the first 3 months, until they can find their fingers/thumb themselves. They say to NEVER use it at bedtime as it interferes with a baby learning to fall asleep himself. I remember getting up 20 or 30 times a night sometimes with Andrew, putting the pacifier in every 10 minutes, each time it fell out. I said "never again". But looking back, do I really have regrets? It was a saviour with Andrew on all our long airplane trips. On long car rides. In restaurants. Weaning him from the breast. Putting him to sleep. Fast forward 3 years though, and since Ryan's arrival and the start of school, and to the fault of both Mommy and Daddy, the plug is in his mouth way too often (thank god it's not allowed in the classroom). For a long while, he ONLY had it at bedtime, but then it got to the car, and then somehow, it started travelling around with us again when Ryan came. Obviously, it is time to begin the weaning process soon. Do we give it to the animals at the zoo? Should I cut off the nipples, telling him they all broke? Should we mail it to the poor babies that don't have soosies? Need to think of the best tactic for Andrew, but I know I want him to feel a part of the decision.
So, now with Ryan, as you can see in the photo above, he has it in the bed already and I found myself putting the soother in his mouth several times last night and the night before to put him to sleep (fortunately, it was not all through the night). He's not yet 3 months. Should I take it out, cope with the crying for a little while and try to soothe him using other means? But then if he becomes a thumb sucker, which I am quite sure he would, I will not have the control to remove the thumb when the time comes.
As a more experienced mom now, I realize that this is a rather small problem relative to others I will confront in the near and distant future. So, I should probably just let it be. He won't have a pacifier 20 years from now when he's out on dates. I hope.

Feeling blue

This blog's title may come as a surprise...as many of you know, I've been feeling on top of the world lately. Happier than I've ever been in my life. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE my life, my family, my friends, living in France. There's not much in this world that is better than holding your healthy, happy newborn baby in your arms. He already slept through the night for the first time two nights ago.
Yet I laid awake last night, with thoughts and concerns about my dear friend Emily's little boy. Emily is a very special friend to me. She, along with her husband Dave, were there for me during my divorce, their shoulders were there for me to cry on, their ears were there for listening...day and night. I am forever grateful for their help in getting me through that rough period. I slept over many nights in what became Paul's bedroom, when I didn't want to be alone. Paul is a cancer warrior. He is the cutest and most courageous little boy. I turned on my computer this morning to learn of Paul's relapse. I cried to the computer. Andrew asked me what was wrong and I told him that my friend's little boy was sick. Andrew asked if he fell down. I wish that's all it was. I cannot even imagine how devastating the news was to Emily and Dave.
I have added Paul to be included in the prayers of the Mom's Prayer Group in Nice. I intend to join them when I can. I continue to hold endless faith and hope that he will get well. I pray for strength for Emily and Dave and little brother Ethan too. I wish I could do more. I ask of anybody reading this to include Paul in your prayers. If you have the means and would like to assist this family with their medical expenses, I can let you know how.
Emily, if you happen to read this, I love you.

This week's menu (at school for Andrew)

Lundi 28 septembre:
Gratin de poisson aux legumes - fromage - salade de fruits fraiche

Mardi 29 septembre:
Carotte rapees - hache pur de boeuf - frites maison - yaourt aromatise

Jeudi 1er octobre:
Endives et mais - roti de porc au jus - jardinieres de legumes - fromage blanc

Vendredi 2 octobre:
Betteraves mimosas - cannelloni a la viande de boeuf - fromage - fruit de saison

La Rentree

...or first day of school, in English.

In the midst of all the activity and excitement surrounding Ryan's birth, the start of public school was a little further from my mind than it would have been otherwise. I knew a long time ago that it would be an emotional day for me, but I had been a little preoccupied and slightly sleep deprived, and had not given it too, too much thought...until I pulled into the parking lot on the first day of school. It hit me. My BABY was starting school. Real school. Not daycare, where he can come and go as he pleases, and where there is a ratio of 5 kids to one caregiver. In North America, real school doesn't even begin until approximately the age of 5...what was I doing sending my two year old BABY off to school??? The last two years and 9 months have been, BY FAR, the absolute best times of my life, and now he's off to start school, for the rest of HIS life. There are 25 kids in his class, one teacher, one assistant. He is expected to go to the potty independently, how was he going to manage without Mommy??? Holy moly, did it ever all hit me that moment I pulled into the parking lot. I happen to know one other friend whose children go to that school, though her girls are older than Andrew and therefore not in Andrew's class. Anyway, the moment I saw her in front of the gate, I felt the tears welling up in my eyes...trying so hard to hold them back...and after a few minutes of light conversation, I broke down. Thank God my face was hidden from Andrew when she embraced me, and kindly reassured me that everything was going to be fine. And as it turned out, she was right. After walking Andrew to his class, and hanging around with him (along with the other parents for about 15 minutes), I saw he was completely relaxed and content, and that I was not needed. So I told him I was leaving and I'd be back later, and his response was simply "Au Revoir Maman"!!! (so funny how it converts to French as soon as he is in a French setting now) We are now on the third full week of school, he does not cry when he is dropped off in the morning, his French has continued to improve, he has learned two new songs, and when I pulled out his artwork from his backpack last Friday, he proudly identified the character of the colouring he had done as "Speederman"...aka Spiderman in English!

School hours are 8:30 to 4:30, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. (no school on Wednesdays in France) School holidays are two weeks long, and are every two months. Bringing lunch is not an option. He eats lunch in the "cantine" i.e. cafeteria, and is fed very well, and much more gourmet than the peanut butter or grilled cheese sandwich he would otherwise eat at home! I will attempt to post this week's menu in a future post.

Very proud BIG BROTHER

One of my biggest concerns prior to Ryan's arrival was how Andrew was going to adjust to the changes that were about to take place in the family. As it turns out, my fears were completely unfounded...he is the proudest big brother I've ever seen, and wants to include Baby Ryan in absolutely everything. Andrew has always had an obsession with babies, but I was not sure how he was going to cope with our baby, the one that takes some of Mommy's and Daddy's time and attention away from HIM. Well, he is indeed obsessed with this baby as well, which is truly magical to observe, but at the same time, very exhausting as he is constantly on a mission to hold him, pick him up, play with him and can therefore not be left alone with the baby for ONE second! Although his intentions are all good, he is far from gentle. The minute he walks in the door, his first question is "Where's Baby Ryan?" and "How's Baby Ryan doin'?". Adorable...and I'd much rather see him this way, even if it's a bit over the top at the moment, than to see him jealous and asking when the baby is going back inside my belly, like some of my other friends have experienced with the births of their second babies!

The Food

The first photo above is a menu of one of my dinners while in the hospital: a well balanced and very filling meal consisting of vegetable soup, stuffed eggplant (which was delicious), rice, yogourt, applesauce, and of course, a baguette. What really through me for a loop though was the breakfast. I suppose it should not have...I already know the French eat very little in the morning, but I guess in a hospital, especially the maternity ward, where new mothers tend to wake up absolutely famished after hours of labour and no food, I was definitely expecting a more balanced breakfast shall we say, complete with fruit, juice, protein, dairy, etc. What I got every morning was in the photo you see above: two mini baguettes with butter and jam on the side, a jug of water, and a bowl of hot water with which to mix my instant coffee! Since I requested "cafe au lait", I also got a side package of powdered milk to put in it!

Centere Hospitalier Antibes Juan-les-Pins

...or Hopital de La Fontonne as it is more commonly known is where my little angel #2 was born. Here you can see a photo of Room #2111, where I stayed for four nights. Overall, I have to say that it was an amazing experience, albeit very different in many ways from my experience at Wellington Medical Center in Florida, where Andrew was born. To start off with the obvious: the language! Although the doctor (OB-GYN) that I'd been seeing for the last 9 months did happen to speak English, I did not see a single doctor until the second day after delivery. (which I was not aware of...I was expecting a doctor to be with me in the delivery room, though in the end, it worked out just fine anyway). Although I found there were a few words I did not know or recall in french, namely certain body parts or pregnancy terms that are not usually a part of daily conversation!, I managed just fine in French. Robert, on the other hand, generally needed his personal translator (i.e. ME!) after each and every time the nurse/midwife left the room. In the end, it really made no difference at all to me that French was the only language spoken.

The next BIG difference: NO AIR CONDITIONING!!! If you look closely in the photo above, you will see a fan to the left of the bed. Robert actually brought this from home, after our first night of sweltering in the heat. I think we were both in shock when we discovered the hospital is without AC. Since I became accustomed to having the portable air conditioning unit on full blast in our apartment, I thought I was literally going to sweat to death the first night of our hospital stay, when I was still 9 months pregnant, not to mention the fact that the week I gave birth was the hottest week of the entire summer. Antje, a friend who came by to visit, told us that the thermometer on her balcony registered 45 Celsius the day I gave birth! And the poor nurses and midwives, on their feet all day long, working their butts off...at times they looked like they were going to collapse. Why is there no AC in the hospital? We'll never figure that one out. France is indeed very advanced in so many areas, yet in some ways, it feels like we're living in a third world country.

It's a BOY...C'est un garcon!

It was four weeks ago today that our lives were blessed with the arrival of our beautiful and precious Baby Ryan Philippe Chamberlin. In some ways, it feels like it was just yesterday (I know I will always remember it like it was yesterday) yet in other ways, it feels like he has always been a part of this family. It all began on Monday, August 17th, 2009. Robert and I went to the hospital together at 2:00pm for my scheduled, every-other-day check-up (since I was past the due date - 7 days late according to the US pregnancy calendar/3 days late according to France). The midwife hooked me up to the machines, checked contractions for one hour, checked blood pressure, dilation (still 2 cm after one month!), etc. and told us that everything was fine with the baby, but decided to schedule me to be admitted the following day at 4:30pm with plans to induce labour in the early morning of August 19th. However, approximately 6 and a half hours later, after just having tucked Andrew into bed, I began to feel some cramps. When I told Robert, he was already to jetset to the hospital! I immediately told him to hold his horses, and wasn't even sure if it was labour pains I was feeling, as three weeks prior, I had felt some cramping in my tummy which turned out to be nothing but gas! However, as time progressed, and the cramps became stronger and more frequent, I was pretty sure this was the real thing this time and began timing them. They were less than 10 minutes apart. We called the next door neighbour who had previously agreed to watch Andrew for the night, we both took showers, finished packing up the hospital bag, and were heading out the door shortly past 11:00pm that night. The contractions by that point were 5 minutes apart and pretty darn painful! Again, I was hooked up to the machines by the midwife, and since I was still only 2cm dilated, she was not even sure that I would be admitted that evening. After one hour of contractions, SEVERE labour pains (primarily in my back, as expected) and tears streaming down my face, the midwife returned, admitted us into Room #2111 and graciously gave me a shot of morphine! Robert had nothing but a small, uncomfortable chair to sleep in, and I was, of course, in the bed right beside him. Despite the shot of morphine that helped tremendously with the pain, I still felt the contractions all night long, was boiling hot, and did not manage a single wink of sleep. By 5:00am, the morphine had pretty much worn off, and the pain was becoming increasingly intense. So...I buzzed the little nurse button and kindly demanded more drugs!!! I was no further dilated than I was the previous afternoon, but fortunately my cervix had begun to thin out; I could therefore be taken to the labour and delivery room and after another two hours of rather excruciating labour pains, I was dilated enough to be given an epidural! In France, visitors (i.e. Robert) are not allowed to be with the patient while the epidural is being administered (which kinda scared me since my epidural experience with Andrew was not at all pleasant). Anyway, it worked out well, as Robert took that time to go home, give Andrew his breakfast, and take him to his daycare. He was back with me in the labour and delivery room with plenty of time still to spare! The midwife, who was going to be delivering the baby, (and who could not have been a day over 25, but was absolutely fantastic) kept coming in and out of the room, periodically checking in on me in between her other deliveries. I subsequently learned that the midwives handle all of the deliveries with exception to forceps or c-sections, in which case a Doctor would be called in. Anyway, shortly before noon, she let us know it was almost time to start pushing. Once I translated this to Robert (all of the hospital staff were solely french-speaking), we both looked at each other, held hands, and the tears of pure joy trickled down both of our faces. At 12:07pm, nearly 16 hours after contractions began, yet only after a few short minutes of pushing, our bundle of joy entered this world, weighing 8 lbs, 1 oz (3.68 kilos) and measuring 20.9 inches (53 cm). I looked down, asked what it was, and Robert was the first to see..."It's a BOY"!, he so proudly stated!
Editor's note: Robert (who is currently off on his paternity leave) just came in and suggested we go watch a movie. Both boys are in bed, dinner dishes are done, great idea...so, more to come on the hospital experience and the weeks following soon!

TRES POSTERIEUR

My most recent doctor's appointment was on Saturday, the official due date according to the France pregnancy calendar. I was hooked up to machines that gauge the baby's heartbeat and my contractions (for which there still are none) for approx 45 minutes, in an effort to make sure that all is well with the baby (which it is). Robert and Andrew sat by my side all the while, and although Robert understood precisely NO part of the conversation between the doctor and me (though Andrew probably caught on to everything!), I was informed that the baby is now in a VERY posterior position. It wasn't really til I got home that I understood the consequences of this, namely a high likelihood of a long and painful back labour. I have since done a great deal of reading on how to rotate the baby, but unfortunately once the head is engaged, which it is, the likelihood of baby rotating before the actual labour process is slim. All I have to say now is...BRING ON THE DRUGS!!!

Personal space

Since it's 4:23am in the morning and I am totally sleepless (and NOBODY back home is answering their phones!), I started reading some of my other friend's blogs. One of my American friend's husband's most recent post centered on the things he misses from the States that he cannot get here. He listed items such as friends and family, American breakfasts, reading the newspaper, talk radio, all beef hot dogs, and playing ice hockey. For me, one of the things I miss most about "home" (friends and family aside) is SPACE. Although I feel we've done a great job at adjusting to a much smaller living quarters than that with which we were accustomed, (though I'm still a little concerned about the future sleeping arrangements that will be made once baby is sleeping through the night...i.e. do we move the baby into Andrew's room or give up the office for the new baby?...most of my friends don't have the option, i.e. they only have two bedrooms and therefore the children sharing a room is a given, but given the fact that Andrew is not a real deep sleeper, I am concerned about the implications...) anyway, personal space outside of the home is something that has been perhaps even more difficult to get used to. At the beach, someone will plunk their towels and umbrellas down right beside you, like so close you can touch their towel without getting up from your own. Tables in restaurants are placed so close together that you often feel like the people sitting at the table beside you are just a part of your table. And I think worst of it all is parking (that is assuming, you can find a parking spot to begin with!) Yesterday I went to a playground and park with another friend and her two children. Since there were no spots available on the street nearest the park, I pulled into the nearby McDonald's parking lot (which only contained about 15 spots but still had available spaces because it was only 10:15 in the morning and they only opened at 10am) and took my chances that I wouldn't be towed (despite the sign that said parking was for McDonald's clientele only...one thing in France that I have found is very seldomly enforced is parking rules). After a 3 hour play and picnic at the park, I was ready to go and happy to find that my car was still there. However, the dude parked next to me was so close that I could not open the driver's side door enough to get my 9 month belly through the opening and into the car. So...as I've had to do on countless other occasions, I entered through the passenger side and crawled into the driver's side. Not so easy or comfortable when you're 9 months pregnant and the temperature inside the car was like 100 degrees! Needless to say, I was extremely annoyed, had a little "I hate France moment" and then moved on with my day!
Space is one of the first things I notice when I arrive in North America, whether it be the size of homes and rooms, the width of grocery store aisles, or the size of parking lots and it gives me this undescribable feeling of freedom that I long for when I'm in France!

Andrew time

The above photos display a few of the activities we have been doing in the days leading up to the birth of baby #2. (sorry, could not figure out how to rotate the top photo!) It's funny cuz when I first discovered that Andrew's creche was going to be closed for the first two weeks of August, I was dreading the thought of having to keep a two year old busy in the heat of the summer whilst being 9 months pregnant; however, I have found myself savouring every moment of these final days of having just one "baby". Aside from the occasional burst of bad behaviour on Andrew's part, he has been so sweet and adorable lately. He has loved helping Daddy (now "Papa", the boy is becoming more french than english now!) assemble all of the baby stuff...the bassinet, the swings, the bouncy chair, etc. and is often telling me he wants to hold the baby, hug the baby, share with the baby, read to the baby, sing to the baby, etc. Of course time will tell if he follows through on these statements, but it brings great joy to hear it now. He has also attended my last two doctor's appointments as well as my last two visits to the lab for bloodwork and has been a saint through them all. I recognize that although my love for Andrew will never change, there will indeed be many things that will change as our family expands.

40 weeks and a day and not really counting...

According to the US pregnancy calendar, I'm officially overdue now. And yet, unlike most people I know at the very last stage of their pregnancies, I'm not feeling overly anxious to get this baby out of me. Perhaps it is because I am so thoroughly enjoying these last few days with JUST Andrew. Perhaps it is because I am so thoroughly enjoying the summer here in the Riviera, and recognize the beach/pool season will end for me once baby comes. Perhaps it is just because I feel physically well still and aside from sleep issues (which certainly won't get any better in the near future!) and therefore not dying to get this pregnancy over with. Or maybe it is because I am well aware of the fact that this may well be my last pregnancy and I am going to miss this wonderful feeling of carrying a precious little baby in my belly, and the special treatment, smiles, good wishes, etc. that are frequently received from friends and strangers alike.

Two centimetres and counting...

As of Monday July 20th, my cervix has dilated 2 cm and despite my due date of August 15th, I'm feeling like labour day is right around the corner! Although I haven't been sleeping well of late (back to getting up again countless times to empty the bladder), I am now feeling a little more prepared for the new addition to our family. Robert has helped tremendously at getting the things crossed off the list, and I'm now at the point where I feel like I can get some resting in on the days Andrew is in creche. However, the annual closure of the creche begins on Friday, so Andrew will be at home full time, but I hope to have active mornings in the pool or beach, and long naps in the afternoon, for as long as I can. My biggest concern of late has been where Andrew will go if the baby wants to come in the middle of the night. Fortunately, my next door neighbour has graciously volunteered to come sleep over should that happen and Andrew's babysitter will be happy to take him during the day. The only hiccup is that my neighbour is away this Thursday through Sunday so I am keeping my fingers crossed that the baby will chill out in my belly for at least another week. I'm now feeling much less anxious about finding out the sex, and more anxious to learn that the little baby inside me that I am already in love with is healthy and "normal". I can feel that the baby has already dropped, and although I feel a lot of movement and poking, the turning and kicking seem to have subsided, as I think the baby is running out of room. As of July 20th, the baby weighed in at 3 kilos (6.6 lbs) and the doc suspects this baby will be smaller than Andrew. Andrew asks me all the time if my baby is sleeping or up, and is an avid little helper when it comes to assembling all of the baby stuff Robert has put together over the last few weeks. We read books about waiting for a baby, etc and though I know he knows there's a baby coming, I am still confident it will be a big adjustment for him to have to share Mommy and Daddy with someone else. (though I know to continue to give Andrew most of the attention when the baby comes, as the newborns require very little at first) Robert and I have yet to agree on a name, particularly for a boy, and will have only 3 days to name the baby once born, so I hope Robert sees the light soon and agrees with at least one of the cool names on my list!!! The next doctor's appointment is scheduled for August 10th, should we make it that long.

Andrew and his big boy bed

Despite all the activity in the last couple of months, two very important milestones have been achieved by Andrew...potty training and the transition from crib to big boy bed. In hindsight, it almost seems like the potty training was the easier of the two. With respect to potty training, all of a sudden, it just clicked...and he began to tell me every time he had to do a pee-pee or caca (poop in French!). I was a little concerned, as the "click" happened just two days before we left for Canada in June, but my concerns were unfounded...he stayed dry the whole time we were there, airplane rides included. I was SOOOO proud of him. He still wears a diaper during the night, though it has often been dry in the morning. With respect to his new bed, I was delighted to find a bargain online from a Canadian couple relocating and selling all of their furniture. We decorated his room in new Thomas bedding, Thomas decals, and several new toys including his new fave, his beloved tool box! The first few nights were surprisingly a breeze. We laid down with him for a few minutes and he was out in no time. Then he came to the realization that he can get OUT of the bed...and so the pattern began...Andrew getting up, and us putting him back down. We did some research on how to best handle this, and it seems the best advice so far has been to simply explain to him that his new bed is for sleeping and for having nice dreams (and now we talk about what he wants to dream about each night...usually Karl's car or fixing things with Daddy) and that the rule at bedtime is that Andrew stays in bed. Knock on wood, but it's been two days now, and it seems to have clicked...he has not gotten out of bed when he's been put down. However, he has started a little pattern of waking up at 2 or 3 am, walking over to Daddy's side of the bed, and Daddy returning him to bed after a short snuggle. The next challenge will be to get him to stay in the bed all the way through the night...but I'm feeling positive that it won't take too long to achieve that goal.

Aunty Susie and Uncle Billy are married!!!

We arrived in Toronto on June 2nd and had an amazing time visiting with everyone, in addition to preparing for Aunty Susie's big day. June 13th was indeed a special day for us all. Susie was an absolutely stunning bride, and she had the most handsome ring boy and most beautiful flower girl in the world! The wedding was beautiful, and we had an absolutely amazing time. The day was also very emotional, and the hormones running through my pregnant body certainly did not help. I managed to get through my speech, but not without a few tears! Here it is:

When Sus first shared the news of her and Bill's engagement, I can't truly say that I was all that surprised. In fact, even though Bill took his sweet little time in proposing to my sister, I knew early on that their relationship was meant to be. I could tell by the way her eyes lit up every time she talked about him and told me about the most recent thoughtful, generous, and very romantic gestures he had done for her. I could tell by the way she laughed at all the funny things he did and said, and how that quirky sense of humour of his was a perfect match for hers. But mostly I could tell by the solidity of their friendship, that began long before they started dating, and developed into a union of love, trust, respect and an endless list of shared interests, hobbies, and goals.
Although I have always been Susie's older sister and perhaps role model in some ways, it is she who is my hero and from whom I have perhaps even learned the most in life. For example, she has taught me that it is impossible to get a chipmunk out of a toilet with a spatula. And that swallowing a Tim Tam (an Australian cookie) without chewing it (on Christmas morning) would result in my mom performing CPR. I also learned that I'm not really a very good hairdresser (after numerous attempts with her as my guinea pig), that I'm not really a very good gymnastics coach either (after countless times of dropping her on her head) and that I'm definitely a terrible driving instructor (after she drove through the front lawn in Dad's Monte Carlo on Dunvegan Rd and came to a screeching halt only inches away from the house). But perhaps most importantly, she taught me how to get away with things, namely using a little sister as a scape goat!
In all seriousness though, Susie is someone I've looked up to and admired for years. She has always excelled at everything she sets out to do; she started off as a star gymnast, then triathlete, was a top student in her PT programs and now has a brilliant career, where her patients so obviously adore her.
She doesn't just talk about plans and dreams like many, she follows them through to fruition, like her whirlwind travel adventures through New Zealand and Australia.
No matter where she goes, she makes an endless amount of friends, and she is indeed the type of friend anybody would be lucky to have. She has always been there for me, no matter what time of day or distance between us, and sometimes I feel like she understands what I'm telling her before the words even come out of my mouth.
And she has a very unique way of finding humour in nearly every situation; she has cheered me up in my darkest of moments and is one of the wittiest people I've ever met.
She is also one of the strongest women I know. Susie has overcome challenges and experiences in her life that many could not even imagine, but which have shaped her into the strong, independent and courageous person she is today.
On top of everything else, she is the best aunt in the world, and her 4 nephews and niece (soon to be 5) are so lucky to have her.
Susie, I love you and I am so grateful to have you as my sister. Billy, I welcome you to our crazy family and am so grateful to have you now as a brother-in-law. Words cannot describe how happy I am that this day has come and that you have found a man as wonderful as Bill to share your life with. Although I'm apparently no expert on marriage myself, I'm confident that yours will be a very long and happy one. And Andrew told me to tell the two of you that he'd like some more cousins in the very near future!
I'd like to close off by reciting a little poem I wrote for Susie:

Susie:
I first met you when I was only nearly 3
I was so proud to have a baby sister, even though you only came up to my knee

For many years we shared everything, your tears felt like my own
I've always been protective of you, even now that you are fully grown

I've loved you since the day your were born and that love will never fade
I'm so fortunate to have you in my life, what a wonderful person mom and dad have made

Thanks for putting up with me and all I used to do
In spite of it all, you've always been so loyal, so kind, so honest and true

I've always admired you, and the type of aunt that you have been
But now that I have a child myself, it means the world to me

We've shared happy times and sad ones, all our secrets and our fears
Thank you for giving true meaning to the word SISTER and for sharing these last 34 years

And now I turn today to see you walk up the aisle
Leaning on mom's arm, your face beaming a smile

To Bill, I just want you to know
Make her this happy always and you will forever be my hero

May in a nutshell

Our cruise ship sailed into London, where we hopped on a quick flight directly back to Nice and re-settled into French life once again. Because we had returned by ship, we had no jet lag issues to deal with (the ship changed the clock on 5 separate occasions, which is MUCH easier on a toddler, than one 6 hour difference all in one day). Fortunately, we arrived back to a very sunny and warm Riviera, and began frequent beach outings and picnics. The highlight of the month was most definitely our annual Mother's Day trip to Italy where we had a beautiful walk (see photo above), meal and playtime at Andrew's favourite park and merry-go-round. But May was a particularly busy month too...in addition to the usual catch-up of being away for a month, I had an endless list of baby prepping stuff to do, French taxes to do, US taxes to do, (neither of which are in the slightest bit straightforward anymore), doctors appointments, ultrasounds, and of course packing and preparing for our June trip to Canada!

Back from my blog hiatus

With only days to go now before baby comes, I thought I'd give an attempt at a blog update of the previous 4 months!

APRIL ADVENTURES

On March 30th, Andrew and I flew to Miami to join Robert on his 2 week business trip in Florida. Despite our lengthy itinerary (Nice to Frankfurt-2 hour flight, Frankfurt to Dusseldorf-1 hour flight, Dusseldorf to Miami-10 hour flight), Andrew was truly an angel on the trip, was well entertained by the in-flight entertainment system, and the new books, toys and puzzles I brought along with me, and especially enjoyed our hourly trips to the bathroom so Mommy could empty her bladder (Andrew got to hang out with the flight attendants who often gave him special bonbons while he waited for me!). I've officially declared myself to be an expert traveller with a child (and one on the way)! In Miami, we had the good fortune of staying at a beautiful hotel with a room overlooking the intracoastal waterway. Andrew became quite a fan of all the beautiful yachts that passed us by all day long. While Robert was in his conference/meetings, etc., Andrew and I spent hours by the pool, often with the company of Tia and Abuela who came by frequently to visit. Although we didn't get the opportunity to visit all our Florida friends, we had a very relaxing and enjoyable time.

On April 17th, we boarded the NCL Jewel for our fourth transatlantic crossing. It was an incredible vacation, and one that we perhaps savoured even moreso than the previous three, knowing that this would likely be the last big trip for a while! On NCL, the kids camp accepts children from the age of two, so Andrew spent some time every day with his friends at camp and enjoyed it immensely. Robert and I got to enjoy many nice evenings of dinner and showtime, while Andrew was busy at camp...and picking him up every time was always a thrill for me, to see what costume he was in and what theme they had celebrated that evening. One of my faves, was Prince and Princess night (see Prince Andrew above).

January through March 2009 Update

The first 3 months of 2009 have flown by. Yet, despite Robert's travel schedule (London, Madrid, and upcoming Miami trip), a few illnesses, and countless sleepless nights on my account, we have indeed taken some time to stop and smell the roses. Weekly, my mom friends and I meet on Wednesdays for an outing of some sort with the kids, which in 2009 has so far included a hike and picnic, a play and picnic on the beach, a trip to the indoor amusement park in Cannes (called FUN CITY...and boy did Andrew have fun!), a nature center/miniature zoo in Nice, various playgrounds, and when weather is not permitting such lovely outdoorsy events, a trip to Playland and lunch at McDonald's will suffice, or a playdate and lunch at one of our homes works too. On Friday mornings, we do my favourite mom/tots baby group (which I ran the last two weeks, together with another friend, as the usual girl was away on holidays) and Friday afternoons always include a swim at the nearby pool. On the weekends, so far this year we have gone to the grand Carnaval event in Nice (a definite highlight and Andrew was fascinated by his first parade), many family pool swims, have entertained friends for dinners and games night, have also been entertained at said friends for dinners and games night, have celebrated many of Andrew's friends' birthdays, and have sampled some more fantastic French lunches at various restaurants in nearby villages. Robert has had the good fortune of heading to the local mountains for some ski days but I've had to pass this year due to my current state. Robert's French studying is now in force, and though he still has a long way to go, I have confidence that he will pass the required exam in June. I can say for sure that France has definitely become more "home" to us than ever before, and the three of us adore it here and currently cannot even imagine moving away anytime soon. I must admit that a highlight for me this year was the surprise purchase by Robert of a clothes dryer for me when I returned from Christmas in January! It has felt like SUCH a luxury after a year and a half of hanging every single item on the clothes line!

Les Petits Chaperons Rouges

This is usually the look I find on Andrew's face whenever I pick him up from "school". He absolutely loves this daycare center and talks endlessly about his new friends there. He is particularly fond of the young ones, and to this day, his obsession with babies continues. The instructors all get a good kick out of his pronunciation of all the kids' names: Isaac (pronounced Eezak in France) is called "Attack" by Andrew. Liam is "Yam". Jethro (his best friend outside of creche) is called "Go-go" by Andrew. Pierre is "Bear". My first consultation with the instructors there included a rather indepth "analysis" of Andrew, his habits, temperament, routine, etc. Their philosophy is to make each child feel as much at home as possible. Therefore, if they normally eat lunch at 11:00am, lunch will be served to that child at 11:00am. Conversely, if they usually eat at 1:30, then their lunch will be served at 1:3o. If they usually eat on mom's lap, then they would be seated on one of the instructor's lap for meal time. Fortunately for me, I advised them that Andrew eats everything, any way, any time of the day, with lunch usually around the noon-ish hour. What they were astonished to observe was how much the child can consume! They just recently notified me that they cut him off at two big servings of each course, even though he often says "encore", they know he had enough! (lunch is of course a four course meal...appetizer, main entree, bread and cheese, then followed by dessert!), and then "goute" aka snack, just a few hours later which consists of a yogourt and apple pie or something to that effect! The lunches themselves are gourmet meals...for example, tomato and fresh mozzarella salad, followed by chicken curry with mixed vegetables and rice, then some Camembert cheese and fresh baguette, and usually some sort of fresh fruit and/or treat (i.e. chocolate eclair) for dessert. I also notified the instructors of his "limited" napping behaviours during the daytime in my initial consultation. (at home, he virtually never naps during the day anymore, except on the very rare occasion) Well, he must tucker himself out REAL good at creche, because I've been advised that he is ALWAYS the first child asleep (and usually the last one awake) with naps averaging 2.5 to 3 hours every single time! Andrew no longer cries when I drop him off there, he is often singing new (french) songs he learned there on the drive home, (and speaking more french words in general) and we just recently made the decision to bump up his schedule there from two days per week to three days per week until August at which point the daycare closes for the month and then in September, he will begin school, as do all children born in 2006. Day cares in France are extremely difficult to get into (we were extremely lucky), however they are also highly subsidized and the cost of three days per week is equivalent to HALF of what I was once paying for a babysitter for one day per week.

Driving...and parking in the Riviera

This is our family car, a 2005 Peugeot SW 407.

This is some of the damage I've done to it since I started driving it!

Admittedly, I was deathly afraid of driving around here my entire first year in France. The narrow streets, the crazy round-abouts, the reckless drivers (especially those on motorcycles) had me paralyzed with fear. As a result, Andrew and I walked or took the bus everywhere we went and I actually enjoyed it. However, this year, the need for me to drive became essential. Many of our activities now involve places that are too far or too inconvenient to take the bus, and I was getting a littled tired of my dependency on Robert to come along on the weekly grocery shopping, etc. Upon arriving here and purchasing our vehicle, we learned that we had one year from the date of our visas, to obtain a French driver's license in order to maintain our auto insurance in France. At the time, I held an Ontario driver's license and Robert held a Florida driver's license. Fortunately, Florida is one of 7 states, and Ontario is one of 4 provinces, with which France has a reciprocity agreement, thus allowing us to "exchange" our driver's licenses, without having to go through the otherwise required 80 hours of driving lessons and passing the written and driving exams! After the expected long waits in the Driver's License bureau, commonly known as the dreaded Prefecture, we received our new licenses, and simultaneously had to give up our American/Canadian ones. Surprisingly, it did not take too long for me to establish my confidence on the roads around here, however, I continue to struggle on a daily basis with the parking situation. In most cases, finding a tight spot to squeeze into on a narrow side street is the only option. Where parking garages exist, the spaces are so tight that I cannot open the door on the passenger side wide enough to get Andrew out and therefore have to crawl over to the back seat, take him out of his carseat, and we both kinda shimmy out on the driver's side. If Robert is with us, we have the good fortune of being able to get out of the car before he pulls into the parking spot. Fat people would have no hope of getting out of a car in most parking garages in France! To make matters more difficult, the entrance and exits to these garages (including the entrance to my apartment building) is so narrow that there is no room for a car to enter at the same time as a car exiting. Therefore, one car must reverse back out to a point the other can get through, before moving forward. These parking lots would NEVER receive permits in North America to even exist, yet it is just a completely accepted situation over here, where the concept of personal space means sitting right on top of your neighbour. The scrapes and dents on the photo above all resulted from rather unsuccessful parking attempts into tight spaces! Although our family car is not one that you would consider "large" in the US/Canada, it feels like a bus when driving it here, and in hindsight, I probably would have opted for a car much smaller in size, like what all our friends have, though it would pose some difficulties anytime you want to go somewhere as a family. In any event, we are otherwise very happy with the car, and now I have it every day (and cannot imagine life without it!). Robert generally takes the bus to work (the bus stop is right outside of our apartment building and it is an 8 minute, 1 euro bus ride to his office) and I usually pick him up at the end of the day.

We both learned the hard way about speeding tickets in France, me first. I opened the mail just the other day to discover a speeding ticket, in Robert's name, for a time and date at which I was driving the car. Doh!...photo radar is everywhere and I did not know it. Although Robert seems to think I have a rather heavy foot, I believe I drive rather cautiously around here. Anyway, after several difficult phone calls, I learned what was required to modify the ticket such that I was the named offender (tickets are automatically issued to the registered owner of the vehicle, Robert in our case). After some not unexpected lecturing from Robert about slowing down on the roads, I got the ticket paid and vowed to drive under the limit going forward. Less than one week later, a ticket came, again in his name, but (thank GOD) for a time and date at which I did NOT have the car!!! Unlike in the US where you can go to some kind of school to save your points and stuff (fortunately I never had a speeding ticket in Florida), no such option exists in France. You pay the fine within 15 days, you lose points, end of story. The rather lame part is that both of our tickets involved speeding LESS than 10km/h over the limit (mine was 9km over and Robert's was 7km over the limit) both of which are LESS than 5 miles an hour over the limit...and no chance to dispute, no warnings, nothing but a ticket for 45 euros which would become 168 euros if not paid within 15 days (and at least one point loss from our driving record).

Sunny Days and Citrus Trees

Even here on the Riviera, where the sun seems to shine for days on end, the winters can begin to feel long. "Jacket weather" usually begins in November and with the exception of a few odd days here and there, usually doesn't end until mid to late March. With the gorgeous beaches just minutes away, we begin to get antsy for that first splash in the Mediterannean each year. The last couple of weeks have brought a significant change in the weather, and the feeling of spring is definitely in the air. The air temp is still a tad cool and brisk (but I am ADORING these temperatures, especially with the little "heater" that is growing in my belly). Tulips are beginning to bloom, the smell of fresh cut grass is in abundance, and citrus season has arrived! In our backyard, we have a young lemon tree and an orange tree, and I snapped this photo, before "harvesting" the five lemons that consist of this year's haul. Tonight's menu will include salmon with a lemon sauce and Perrier with fresh cut lemons in the glass!

We're having a baby!!!

This was my first ultrasound (approximately 10 weeks) and I am now in my 5th month and cannot believe how fast the time has flown by. Even though I worked full time up until the day Andrew was born, I still found time (almost daily) to update my pregnancy journal. Lately, I'm feeling lucky if I manage to get in a shower each day! However, I must admit, although this pregnancy is almost identical to my previous one, I am feeling significantly more tired this time around. And that is in large part due to the fact that I haven't been able to sleep well. For the first 4 months, I was averaging about 4 hours of sleep per night, and despite my exhaustion during the day, I was still unsuccessful at taking a nap, even on those days when Andrew was in daycare. In reading through my pregnancy journal from Andrew, it did surprise me to read that my sleeping habits were almost as bad as this time round but I know I did not feel this tired...but then again, I also did not have an energizer bunny named Andrew in my life at the time!
So far, I guess you could say I am somewhat satisfied with my experience in the prenatal France system. Here's what I've experienced so far:
I first informed our family doctor of my pregnancy while I was in his office for Andrew's 2-year appointment. I asked him who and where he recommended I go to, and rather nonchalantly, he suggested I go to the hospital, where there is a large OB/GYN department/practice. Since it is really the closest place to home, I went with his recommendation without doing too much additional research. One of my best friends here just had her baby there, and had a positive experience, though supposedly, this hospital does not have the greatest reputation in the world. So, I got the phone number and made a call or rather attempted to make a call for my initial visit. What I got was a busy signal the first 20 attempts (no voice mail options), finally, I got a person and scheduled my first appointment, but she was very clear that it had to be after I was 12 weeks pregnant! (or it is not covered! I suppose if there were any problems it would be but she didn't bother to question me on that in any case) I settled with that, but since I was anxious to have an ultrasound, and was advised they were covered, my family doc wrote me a prescription and I went to the closest radiology lab and got to see my little angel #2 for the first time (photo above). I did learn a lesson though: leave Andrew with Daddy (or daycare) when I go for my future ultrasounds!!! He at first stayed with the receptionists upfront, but after some intense screaming, they let him back with me, and he did nothing but scream, as he sat in a chair beside me and observed (sort of) what was going on. I tried to explain the whole baby thing but he was too wound up to even listen. I think it freaked him out to see me lying down in the chair in a dark room.
My initial prenatal visit with my new doctor at the hospital kinda took me for a loop. I went directly to the OB department and waited in this long line-up just to check in. The receptionist was in a closet-looking room and there was a sign at the door that said to stand behind the entrance of the open door for confidentiality reasons. (I could hear every word being spoken to every patient ahead of me!) Since I had been running around all afternoon, I was really feeling kinda woozy, and would have much preferred the American way of writing my name down, finding a chair, and then being called when they are ready to serve me. However, no such luck...I just stood there waiting behind about 10 other women, mostly pregnant, until it was my turn. I had arrived about 20 minutes early, thinking there would be multiple forms about my health, family history, etc. Nope, she just took down my name and address and sent me back to the hospital entrance (where I had to wait in another line) to provide my health insurance information. Back to the OB department I go, and finally, Dr. Magnaldo (my OB) calls my name. There was no peeing in a cup, no being weighed or blood pressure check in advance by an office nurse, there were very few questions about my own health history, no reference to any prenatal vitamins (fortunately I purchased some in bulk on my last visit to FL). I told her about my sleeping problems and very unsympathetically basically just said sorry about your luck but there's nothing she can do about it! Next thing you know I'm up on the table for an ultrasound, which I always love, it's sooo cool to see that little baby inside of you, and always gives me a feeling of reassurance that things are going fine. Since I feel quite strongly this time around that I do not want to know what it is, (though Robert would rather know, so he is not invited to the ultrasound appointments cuz I know he'll peek if he can!!!) I asked her if I should refrain from looking the whole time (and just look at certain images upon her direction). She immediately responded with a comment to the effect that it is way too early so don't worry about identifying the sex. However, less than a minute later, she pipes up and says that she sees what it is but she'll refrain from telling me! Instantly, I was angered. I think she must have seen a penis, and therefore could tell the sex. Some friends of mine say she could have easily seen female genitalia, etc. but nonetheless, if I told her I didn't want to know, she should have kept her damn mouth shut! I wanted to say something, and let her know that I did not appreciate any comments at all about the sex of the baby, but was at a loss for words, partially because the whole appointment took place in french (she doesn't speak english). Anyway, once I got down from the table and put my pants back on, she writes up an invoice and takes my cash (no debit/credit cards accepted...and this is a department in the HOSPITAL!!!), gives me a receipt (to send to my insurance company) and sends me on my way with prescription for bloodwork. I subsequently found out that I must go to the lab for my bloodwork (and it is also here where I do the pee in a cup thing), return to the lab a few days later when the results are ready and bring said results to my next doctor's appointment one month later! Since France requires that pregnant patients who are not immune to toxoplasmosis be tested on a monthly basis, this is the drill I will have to pursue for the next 5 months. Since I have a tendency to faint after I have blood taken, I have to get Robert to take me to these monthly blood tests! Before leaving the appointment, I did remember to ask my doctor what steps to take in the event of any questions or concerns I may have along the way, and she very nonchalantly said to just call here, but advised me to be aware that the lines are usually busy!!!
I do realize that I was very fortunate to have had such an amazing doctor in the States, and by the end of my pregnancy, almost felt like I could call her a friend. We knew personal things about each other, etc. I know that that will certainly not be the case with Dr. Magnaldo!
I have since learned that there are a total of 7 prenatal visits in France: once at the 12 week mark, and one a month for the remainder (none of this once a week thing in your final month like in the US). There are 3 ultrasounds, one at 12 weeks, one at 20 weeks and one at 32 weeks. (I assume you are having a problematic pregnancy, the rules would differ accordingly) The federal insurance system (what everyone who lives in France has) covers 70% of your health care costs up until the 5th month and 100% of all costs thereafter, until the baby leaves the hospital. (our supplemental insurance through Robert's work covers everything that the fed insurance doesn't so fortunately, our out-of-pocket costs are zero)
I was sharing my personal experiences to date with one of my American friends who lives here and who is also pregnant with her second child. She totally empathized with everything, but did share that although the "customer service" part is significantly lacking, that the quality of health care is superior, and that her experience with her first pregnancy (which happened to be high risk) was outstanding, and her baby (in ICU for the first week) was well looked after and thrived ever since. I have enough mom friends here that I have a huge resource of information available to me through them, and they've all had babies in France with great experiences. However, I must say that I, personally, am very happy I had my first baby in the US, we did all our birth classes and baby classes there and we now know fully what to expect this time around while going through it in a foreign country.

Our Holidays

Again...it's been a looong while since I've updated my blog; it truly wasn't meant to be a quarterly update kinda thing but it seems that is what it's become. Since there is again much to write about, I will update it in instalments.
Our transatlantic cruise home was yet again, an amazing vacation. Despite the complexity of all our travel plans, everything was seamless, and we had a most enjoyable trip. After the cruise, we spent almost two weeks in Miami. While Robert was busy back at work at the Miami office, Andrew and I spent lots of time with Abuelita and Tia, which was very relaxing and most enjoyable. It was wonderful to celebrate Andrew's 2nd birthday with them (this year we had a Diego theme) and we celebrated Christmas Eve together also as Andrew and I flew to Toronto on Christmas Day. Despite a very long and delayed travel journey on Christmas Day this year, it was fabulous to celebrate the holidays again with my fam too. We decided to have our "official" celebration on Boxing Day this year, and Lo held the event in her new home. We had an added bit of excitement this year, when Lo's new boyfriend (who we all had JUST met) decided to light a fire in the fireplace downstairs to burn all the wrapping paper. Make a long story short, he kinda didn't open up the chimney flu and within minutes, there was so much smoke in the house that you could not see the person standing beside you. So...we all gather quickly outside on the front porch (in the freezing cold, and without coats and shoes for the most part) and call 9-1-1. Shortly thereafter, there appears 3 fire trucks, an ambulance and two police cruisers in front of Lo's driveway. It was a huge thrill for the kids as they got to go inside the fire truck while the firemen were at work putting out the fire and setting massive fans up inside the house to blow out all the smoke! It was apparently a thrill for the neighbours too as many came out to check out the situation and offered invitations to their homes to stay warm (even though Lo had not even met many of them yet). Fortunately, there was very little damage inside and of course we were all fine; when all the rescue vehicles departed, we resumed our family game of Trivial Pursuit and enjoyed the rest of our Christmas celebration! Needless to say, poor Eric (Lo's boyfriend) felt like a bit of a loser that night!!!
The most special part of the holidays for me was the opportunity for Andrew to spend time with his grandmas, aunts and cousins (and buddies Beckett, Owen, Brett, Laura, etc.). He didn't mind all the spoiling/attention too much either!