Mom in France

Hiatus

I feel like I need to make it official - Mom in France is on hiatus.  With three weeks to go before #2 arrives I've slowed down big time and have been focusing on the moment and being with and building my family.  We've been busy remodeling a bedroom for our two boys (Boo moved in last night) and dusting off and washing newborn stuff (there is so much of it!). We had a fantastic May with a trip to St. Tropez all together and a day out just E and me a the Cannes Film Festival (pics below).

I will post as the mood and time strikes - in the meantime wish us luck!

Here are few from St. Tropez:

The main square is lovely with groups playing petanque, ice cream stands and a merry-go-round:

The view from our room.  We stayed outside the town proper in small resort-like hotel.  Our room had a view of the sea from the little terrace which was great for entertaining Boo (look at the boats!).

From Cannes:

This was the view on the approach from the train.  It's only 20 minutes away by car but since there would be no parking we decided to take the Grasse line train which added a little romance to the day.

We went to see "Amreeka," an independent film about a Palestinian family assimilating into the American mid-west. Not too heavy and the geeky spirit of seeing it at the film festival made it fun. 

A view of the Croissette covered in tents:

Afterwards, we ate at our favorite Lebanese place.

And, lastly, one of me hugely pregnant with Boo #2:

In the Moment

It's been awhile.  At first I thought I was hiding out again, but actually I realized that I am merely living in the moment.  I haven't stopped to reflect much lately (strange for me), and that includes spending any time sharing these experiences.

What happened?  Spring! 

The picture above I took yesterday in our garden when workers were here installing a wrought-iron barrier around our pool.

But it really started around the time of my last post, Boo's birthday.  I took a Saturday morning off, leaving Boo with E and headed down to Nice on one of the first glorious days of the year.  I had intended to take lots of pictures of the old town to share, but I got so caught up in it that I completely forgot.  Which I think is a good thing.  I'm not very good with active wandering or even leaving Boo without a "good reason" which usually means good for someone else (employer, husband, friends) rather than myself.  On this day I invented a shopping reason to justify my outing and as I wandered through the sunny streets the spell of spring worked on me.  I slowed down.  I began to procrastinate.

However, I had another appointment in Antibes, a 30 minute drive away, so I needed to hustle.  I could see I wasn't going to make so called from my car - the folks at the other end forced me to reschedule and then suddenly there I was with two free hours with no plans, no obligations.  I headed back out into the street and towards the old town with the idea of just walking.  And perhaps lunch.

I found a place on the Marche aux Fleurs that catered to tourists and that was serving brunch.  Lucky for me it was still early in the season & not too many tourists.  I ate my salad slowly and read magazines that I'd bought earlier in the morning, and suddenly remembered my single life of cherished weekend breakfasts alone or with friends in the South End of Boston.  After I finished I headed over to my favorite gelateria on the Place de Justice and sat on the courthouse steps with an immense coconut / strawberry number on a cone  (something I never do now with Boo since I have to share).  I people-watched - the booksellers were in full swing and there were older couples browsing the stalls, teenagers lurking and plenty of strollers weaving their way through the crowd.  Sitting above it all, in the sun, satiated, I remembered my camera and managed a single photo for the day:

The next week passed quickly and suddenly it was Easter.  Boo proved himself to be French by raising a glass at our Easter lunch and saying "Tchin!"

Happy 2nd Birthday, Boo!

  So far so good except my lovely husband is away on the mountaineering trip and kindly left me the digital reflex camera but not the memory cards.  So no pictures yet despite the gradual present opening that's been going on since Sunday.

Party is on Sunday - hoping for no rain!

_{Wayne Thiebaud's cakes really are the perfect celebration image in my book.}

*Sigh*: Pregnancy and Work

I love living in France.  I take advantage of all the social support that's out there for me: my 6 weeks of vacation, my part-time work status as mom of an under-3 year old, and my 16 weeks of maternity leave.  But underneath all this family-friendly social policy lurks capitalist reality and the pressures of corporate life.

It took me more than 6 months to find my feet and settle after coming back to work following my maternity leave with Boo.  My days were filled with boredom, disillusionment, guilt and general sense of disconnect.  Although I had a place, I had no role.  I decided to hire a career coach which helped me think about a long-term future.  And I was promoted, given a new job and new responsibilities. I became busy and more motivated.  Just when things really took off, I got pregnant.

I suffered through the pregnancy-induced exhaustion of fall and winter - busy times in my company - giving presentations, helping others, trying to make something out of this new role.  Earlier this year, I was rewarded during my annual review, receiving the highest mark possible for the first time in my 6 years here.  Although I was continuing my career coaching looking to change my job long-term, it was so satisfying to see that I had managed to do better than great which somehow validated a SuperMom status:  Healthy son, pregnant, working 4 days a week and STILL able to excel at work.  With this I decided to negotiate for a promotion - last chance before my maternity leave.

Shortly after, recession reality set in.  No raises company-wide. Annual bonuses but we should be grateful. And the kicker: no promotions.  I was so disappointed because it seemed as if all my hard work and struggle to balance everything was for nothing.  Then a ray of hope: some exceptions could be made for promotions.  I made my case to my manager.  He held a talk with the division director who told him, bluntly, that he didn't want to promote me now since I was pregnant and I wouldn't be around the rest of the year.  A little time passed and I had another reason to try again. Same answer.

It was a repeat of what I experienced upon leaving with the first pregnancy- my immediate manager left and I expressed an interest in the role, only to have it go to a co-worker after I left several months later. 

It's so demoralizing and unfair.  And like most of the other working women I know, we just swollow it - feeling powerless to do anything about it.

A Digression from Kids and France: I love this book

I just received a copy of Maira Kalman's illustrated Elements of Style by Strunk and White - that tiny tome that all freshman composition students have to buy as required reference.  Does it make me really geeky (or just desparate for english-language reading) that I spent the evening reading it in bed? 

It is one of the most gorgeous books I've seen in a long time - cheery red cover, compact, lush and witty illustrations.  A book on grammar and english-language usage that's fun to read!

 

A little more Spring

Boo has been picking the early-arriving poppies from the olive orchard next door.  Usually they end up in a shredded mess on our terrace, but this one has managed to thrive for nearly a week in its little vase.

Late afternoon on La Croisette

My Dad is visiting so we used the excuse to do more than errands and playgrounds (or the to and fro from work) and headed down to Cannes yesterday afternoon to soak up a little Riviera glamour.  We hardly ever go to the beach or the beach cities - I think it's because they are just right there. Only 20 minutes away.  But I always love it - the air coming off the sea and the beautiful light.  It is totally different from my home in the so-called back-country which is totally suburban and was once remote farmland.

I was inspired.  Today we go to Nice.

Everything Sunny

Even here on the Riviera, where the sun regularly shines for days on end,the winter can begin to feel long.  However, it's also citrus season so here's what it looks like at our house.

Our funky wrinkly mandarin tree.  Soon to be marmalade.

One of two potted lemon trees:

The haul:

Which became preserved lemons, Moroccan style:

Boo's new rain boots, which if the forecast is correct, he'll be wearing all next week:

My cheer-me-up kitchen chair cushions:

Which Hospital: Public or Private?

This is the view from my hospital room when Boo was born almost two years ago.  You're looking at the sweep of the Promenade des Anglais along the Baie des Anges in with old Nice in the distance and in the background the jetty of the tony St.-Jean-Cap-Ferrat.  Not a bad view from a hospital. 

It's time again to choose our hospital for delivery (no homebirth or other method for me).  There are two choices:  the private clinic where I gave birth last time which is part of the larger (public) children's hospital or the public hospital in nearby Grasse where most of my friends have gone.

For E, a frenchman, private vs. public is almost a political decision:  support the public infrastructure (which we pay for) and be one of the people and take advantage of the public hospitals' renowned medical abilities or opt for comfort (and competency) and go back to our clinic where I was 99% guaranteed for a private room.

For me, I associate the public hospital with my one experience at Mass General in Boston:  A huge complex of a teaching hospital, teeming with staff and patients, totally chaotic. The attention I received was negligible and it was still really expensive.  Compare that experience with my one (minor) surgery which was held two years in later in Newport Beach, California. My consultation took place in a quiet, calm office and my surgery was in a small, comfortable outpatient facility. 

I visited a friend in the Grasse hospital when she gave birth to her son before I was pregnant the first time.  She was in a room with another person, sharing the bathroom and there were visitors for the other woman as well.  It was a bit crowded in the room and given that my friend was lying in bed after an emergency Cesarean, it didn't seem that restful.  When it came to be my turn all I could think was:  Is there a way to have a single room?

It really came down to that, I'm afraid to say.  My OB/GYN, who does not do deliveries, needed to refer me.  I had to choose.  I wanted to be a good citizen and go to the public hospital, but when I asked him if I could get a private room, he told me that I would have to go to Nice.  That settled it then and there - amenity won out over civic pride. 

A month later, at 7 months, we were in the ER of the Grasse hospital because I was having contractions.  It was one of those stressful moments where I was struggling to hold on to my french and hoping hoping everything was going to be OK.  We didn't know what would happen.  As I lay on the bed, baby monitor strapped to my belly, I was asked administrative questions - who was my doctor, other problems, etc, and, where was my referral file. I had no idea what the nurse was talking about, but it turns out that since I was in between my old doctor and the referral, I hadn't received it yet.  It was the file that would follow me to the hospital on birth-day.  I explained that I was going to the hospital in Nice, and immediately I received scorn:  She asked, why, if I had chosen Nice, was I in the ER in Grasse?  She compared the Nice maternity to a hotel - it's not a real hospital. 

Afterward, when everything was OK, and was home (on bedrest) I had plenty of time to reflect.  I thought, these public hospital people really have a chip on their shoulder.  Her attitude definitely reinforced my decision.

The actual experience was fine.  I had my single room with a view, though since it was south-facing it was hot as hell even in early April.  My new OB was an Iranian pot-head whose patient manner was to try to bond over the Grateful Dead.  He was on vacation during the actual birth.  I was grateful to be close to the children's hospital because Boo spent 2 days in the NICU for a round of antibiotics after the OB identified possible infection.  I stayed my due of 4 days, though in the end it was really a day too long.  I was anxious be home, away from the round-the-clock hub-bub of the hospital.

Since then, I've had more friends go to Grasse (and none to Nice - it's considered far away for most), and all report positive experiences, even with sharing a room.  Should I reconsider?  I have one more month before I have to decide.

Single room & Dr. Pothead (no sea view this time: it will be June and hot)?  Or join the crowd at Grasse? 

Little Boy Lost

I was in mid-write for today's post on hospitals when I spoke to my mom and she told me that my only female cousin, same age as me, as suffered a miscarriage at 21 weeks.  I didn't even know she was pregnant and now she has a little boy lost, who would have been born only a week before my own.

I'm mourning her loss, and grateful for the little boy I already have and praying for the little one still inside.