Au Revoir Paris, Buongiorno Overnight Train
The Paris Broke Mommy Show
My husband Michael is leaving today. Last night I was crying on his shoulder saying,
"Don't leave me alone with these mean people!"
Now, that was after I was almost arrested in the Paris Metro, because I couldn't produce my used ticket. Or rather, I gave the ticket in my back pocket to the Metro Policeman, he said something I didn’t understand and pulled me aside, asking me to pay 35 Euros for not having a ticket.
Paris Needs a Xanax
Within just a few hours of being in Paris, everything changed – and I don't mean just the language and the landscape. Once off the train, a surprisingly relaxing six and a half hour TGV to Gare de Lyon, we all went from being peaceful to on edge almost instantly.
In the taxi, where the unfriendly driver didn't warm to me despite my grammatically correct statements about the weather and the traffic, the boys were making up jokes and laughing. They suddenly sounded very loud. When I told them to keep it down, I noticed that it was the first time I had hushed them in days.
Metallic Barcelona Nights
We walked home tonight after schlepping through the city in search of a kids official Barcelona team travel jersey in a medium (sold out everywhere), and I saw a band setting up at the mouth of the Passeig del Born near our apartment. We heard the familiar baseline to Rock Lobster as the band warmed up, and Maxon got excited to hear one of his favorite songs.
And while I prepared dinner, the band started playing. Heavy Metal. Why, Barcelona Committee of Block Parties, did you choose a metal band? And why, Barcelona Metal Band, are you playing a set longer than Springsteen's?
Camp Europe
School is out and the boys aren't at camp.
I know a few things: The boys don't really love camp – especially Maxon, who requested a camp-free summer. Neither want overnight camp, and we're in no hurry to send them (yes I'm sure we're Jewish). Ezra enjoys a sports-specialized week here and there, but they don't dig on the general day camp, which makes paying for it especially painful. For the past few years I've scheduled, coordinated and chauffeured week-long camps for each kid during the months of June and July, and found that there isn't enough Xanax in the tri-state area to make that tolerable.
My Inexhaustible Son
I used to have this Weimaraner, Clay. She was inexhaustible.
At the time, I was training for a marathon and would take her with me on my long runs. Afterward, I lay on the sofa with thighs on fire while she did laps around the apartment, whimpering and demanding that I take her outside for more activity. I did not have the temperament for this type of animal. After a year, I found a nice home for her out in the suburbs with an expansive backyard and a family who could run her out.