Day 5

It's always the darkest before the dawn.

When we used to travel frequently with the kids, we would talk about and remind ourselves that it took 5 full days to regain humanity when going through 9 time zones.

Day 4 was always the worst. It was always that day when we'd look at each other and ask "What the f were we thinking? Why the f are we here? Why on EARTH did we think this would be a GOOD idea?" I think dissolution of relationship probably entered into both of our brains... at least briefly. Every single time. But because we did it so much, we KNEW that it was Day 4. We KNEW that the awful part was almost over and the bliss was about to begin. We KNEW it. We had so much practice doing it.

When Day 5 would start off feeling like the Apocalypse, we would look at each other... knowingly... and say "Day 5." By the end of that day, all hope was restored and life was glorious once again.

We are out of practice.

It's been 5 years since we've done this.

Today is Day 5.

We all woke up kind of scattered. Except Q-Man. He kept sleeping. We had early afternoon plans so it wasn't a problem... yet. In an effort to keep us on the adjusting-to-the-time-difference plan, I attempted to wake him up around 10. He woke up, came downstairs, then went back up and crawled back into bed. I went up 30 minutes later and he said his tummy was hurting. If you read about our 'frolic' at the Louvre, then you know where this is going :( Click there if you missed it. Or don't.

After he threw up... in the toilet YAY! ... not on the floor at the Louvre or in the line for security at the airport... he went back to sleep for the rest of the day. Daddy stayed back with the sick boy and the toddler, which allowed the two older kids and I a grand day out. My husband is really smart and really kind :)

Apparently, that was the only time he threw up all day, and he slept until 3. He feels much, much better. Wonder who'll get it next? No. Don't even think that!

"So what did you do?" you are wondering.

First, we went to the Musée de l'Orangerie and saw the enormous Monet Waterlilies with some of our stateside friends...

They were all I had imagined them to be... 

gorgeous.

Then we went to the Cluny Museum... the National Museum of the Middle Ages. A gallic-roman bath ruin and really, really old castle filled with really cool really old stuff... the kids LOVED it.

Big G found a gargoyle that reminded him of his Louvre experience...

And I found out that Jesus was a breastfed baby!

When we were done there, the kids were hungry. They had something they have never had before... really.

Almost 9 and 11 and a half... and this is the first time 

they have ever eaten something from 

McDonald's.

We walked with the fries through the Quartier Latin and then over the bridge to the Ile de la Cité and...

Baby X's supermodel photo shoot in front of Notre-Dame.

While we were walking around taking in these sights, I saw a lot of people who had run in yesterday's Marathon de Paris... if you missed my post yesterday with the highlight video of the leader pack at 15.5 miles, click here. I could tell they had participated by the way in which they went up and down stairs and kept telling their non-running companions "no... I'm okay. I got it."

As we were nearing home, eating still-warm-from-the-oven bread from the boulangerie (that's bakery ;-) ), Big G remarked, 

"This day just went from excellent to AMAZING!"

That, my friends, is Day 5.

The Frolic at the Louvre

The word "frolic" carries with it connotations of fun and merriment, doesn't it?

Then I think I need to pick a different word.

Perhaps "fiasco" is more suitable?

You may ask, "Why in the heck did that woman take all those kids to the freakin' Louvre?" Right. A museum. Lots of priceless works of art... masterpieces, in fact. Are kids even interested in that biz? Ummm... not generally speaking.

Well, Big G really had a hankering for the Louvre. And given all his 'challenges' so far on the trip, I thought it would be nice to let his preferences dictate the course of action today... plus we have a local friend who knows the museum inside and out and how to hit up all the kid-critical/kid-interesting exhibits and artifacts. She can do from a 30-minute up to a 5-hour customized tour, depending on the interests of the particular group. And she is leaving town tomorrow... so today had to be the day.

Things seemed to be going in a good direction for a "frolic". Everyone slept through the night... from about 11 pm until about 8 am or later. Everyone ate breakfast and got dressed. And we left the house on time.

As we were walking to the Métro (subway), Big G mentions that his throat hurts. No time to run back to the house for throat lozenges... I indicate that this is a time one must "soldier on." He is not really one who "soldiers on". All seemed okay through the Métro ride and the walk to the musée. But this was the scene as we waited for our friends to find us...

And when they found us...

He really wanted to try to see some of the sights, so he got up and tried to "soldier on"...

Here we are, toting the stroller up hill and over dale...

lots of stairs in that place...

the cardio and strength workout for the day ;-)

But...

it was like a Zürich flashback...

This time, however, he did give about a 30-second warning and we were in front of a gifty kiosk, but the chick did not understand my inquiry about a plastic bag... she smiled and shook her head and pointed at the elevator. My French is not that bad... chick was not even trying to understand me. As we waited patiently for the elevator, he barfed on the floor in front of the chick's gift nook. He really did try to hold it in... he really did try to wait... poor kid.

The elevator arrived, and we stepped over the splattery puddles to go in search of a bathroom. We were successful in that mission. He got cleaned up. We returned to our group... still in front of the gift shop-wannabe. Dad was mopping up the mess with Kleenexes. Big G indicated that he was going to spew again... this time the chick nearly dove at us with a roll of plastic bags... nice, thick ones that would have really helped the situation in the first go-round. But better late than never, I always say :P She dropped her aloof, cranky-butt demeanor and became quite helpful. Yay! 

As this was now the scene, Daddy decided the out-of-doors might be best for the boys. 

A little fresh air for health (Big G) and attitude (Q-Man).

(note plastic bag now in possession)

Our amazing tour-guide friend took us on a whirlwind 30-minute tour, hitting primarily Greek Antiquities and Italian Renaissance...

Baby X with the Venus de Milo...

Baby X in the Mona Lisa Room...

it was mobbed and La Joconde is right behind 

Baby X's head

(she did push through the crowd up to the front and saw it closely).

We saw the guys through this window... 

that red jacket just to the left of center is Q-Man!

Daddy is the one sort of next to him with the black backpack.

And here is one of my very favorite things in the Louvre...

Cupid and Psyche

by Canova.

Baby X takes a moment to kick back.

Because we had a stroller, we got to ride up the ultracool pillar-elevator in the middle of the big glass pyramid. 

We found the rest of our family, our friends went home, I knelt down in someone's nasty gum which stuck to my jeans (I know the ice cube trick ;-) ) and Miss C tried to go for a swim in the water feature.

We made our way to the Métro, were accosted by fake deaf people soliciting distracted tourists for money (I know they were fake because I saw them talking amongst themselves when they didn't know anyone was looking), got on the homeward-bound train and collapsed in a heap...

Tired pups.

I'm thinking we'll lay low tomorrow :)

Are you a gotta-see-it-all kind of traveler? Or a chill-out-and-act-like-a-native kind? Or something in between?

Vecchio Venerdì... les Pyramides

à paris...

big g when he was little g.

april 2001

Our first 'April in Paris' trip happened when Big G was 19 months old. He and I were here for 3 weeks total... one week just the two of us, then 10 days with Daddy and the two youngest of my stepkids, and then one week with Grandma (there was a bit of overlapping in there).