Fontainebleau

Lest our blog become purely baby-related, I wanted to post some stuff about recent travels we have been on. Except... we haven't travelled since the baby arrived. Well, we've made trips around the Paris metropolitan area (which is a pretty big area), but we haven't really been out for more than a few hours or an afternoon or so. Life with babies is complicated!

But, earlier in July, we took a day trip to Fontainebleau, a town about 50km south of Paris. I had been planning to write about our trip, but I never got round to it! Let's do that now.

Fontainebleau is a popular tourist destination for Parisians, mainly due to the nearby Forêt de Fontainebleau (Fontainebleau forest), but also for the Château de Fontainebleau, regarded as one of France's most magnificent. The forest is pretty big, 280 square kilometres; that's approximately the same size as Edinburgh, Exmoor national park, or the borough of Queens in New York; it's just under 10% the size of Rhode Island. The forest is popular for hiking, cycling, horse riding, and rock climbing.

It took us maybe an hour to get there by train, and then a 10 minute bus ride from the train station to the town centre. Apparently it's a popular site with Chinese tourists, and there were signs in Chinese at the train station explaining how to use the buses. For us, since the trains and bus system are all in the "Paris region" transport system, we were able to use our monthly transport passes to travel. A day trip for free! Doesn't get much better than that.

The chateau de Fontainebleau.

The castle has been successively expanded over the centuries by its different owners, which has lead to a multitude of different architectural styles for the different wings. I'll let you judge whether this has a positive or negative effect on the overall appearance:

A view of part of the castle from a distance.

The château is surrounded by extensive gardens, including a lake. You can visit the inside of the castle (apparently the tour is well-regarded), but the weather was so nice we opted to remain outside and stroll the gardens.

Such tasteful decorations in the castle grounds. (Oui, c'est un chien qui faire un pipi.)

Some people relaxing with a picnic by the lakeside.

Another view of the castle from one of the tree-lined promenades.

We didn't venture out into the forest (there was too much to see at the castle, and Talia, being pregnant, only had so much walking energy for the day). Perhaps we will be able to revisit soon and have another exploration, this time with baby in tow!

Two months of sweetness

Maëlys is two months old today! The first month passed in a haze of exhaustion and amazement and a pervasive what-the-heck-do-I-do-with-this-creature feeling, but the second month is where the love and confidence have started to grow in earnest.

Smiley Maëlys!

At six weeks, she intentionally smiled back at me for the first time, quelling the sneaking suspicion I had that our daughter would resemble a humorless and demanding alien for the rest of her life. Shortly thereafter, she started to become much more cuddly, burrowing her face into my neck and wrapping her arms around me when I held her. She started showing more interest in her stuffed animal toys, as well as holding a person's gaze for much longer. And this morning, she consistently giggled (cutest sound in the world!) when Rory wiggled her bottom and made a motorboat noise. It's episodes like these that make your heart overflow with love for your tiny human. And make the less fun stuff worth it.  

Our latest otter comparison.

You may be wondering what it's like to raise a baby in Paris. I might also write later about my experiences with labor and delivery and our stay at a French hospital if people are interested, but I'll save that for another post. For now, here are some interesting facets of new parenthood in Paris. For the record, I suspect it's actually quite a bit easier to have a baby in France than it is in the US (though I can't say I've tried the US version). Here are some reasons why.

• Mothers stay at the hospital for an average of three days after giving birth. This gives them time to recover and learn how to feed, change, and bathe their baby with the assistance of the nurses. They also have time to make sure the baby is healthy before being sent home. In our case, two days after she was born, Maëlys started to have trouble feeding--she had very low energy and fell asleep before she could get enough food, which was a sign of the start of jaundice. Though not uncommon in newborns and not a terribly serious problem, it still freaked me out and had me bursting into tears at the slightest provocation. Instead of being home alone by this time and having no idea what was wrong with our baby, our midwife very quickly diagnosed the problem and the nurses helped Maëlys get better.
• Along the same lines, mothers in France are entitled to a home visit from a midwife a few days after they leave the hospital. My sage-femme (literally "wise woman") came out to our home and spent over an hour with us to check on the baby and me. The follow-up of mother and baby that is built into the French medical system makes problems less likely immediately following a birth.
• There are community medical centers called PMIs (Protection Maternelle et Infantile) which offer medical care for women and children free of charge. PMIs offer the services of pediatricians, midwives, puéricultrices (nursery nurses or childcare workers), and psychologists to anyone, regardless of income. Unlike in the US, where a free medical clinic such as this would most likely only be found in poor inner-city neighborhoods and would have somewhat of a social stigma attached to its use, PMIs are used by families from all walks of life and the quality of service is generally quite high. I have visited three different centers and they all had friendly, welcoming staff and a professional yet kid-centered environment. We will be taking Maëlys to our PMI on Monday for her first vaccinations (which are free, by the way). Oh, and there are three PMIs within a 15 minute walk from our house. I think France has some things figured out.
• Mothers are prescribed la rééducation périnéale following a birth. This is a practice not widely found in the US or UK, but it's essentially physical therapy for a woman's perineum (the muscles that get very stretched and sometimes tear during childbirth). Unlike in most other countries, France actually recognizes that childbirth can lead to lasting medical difficulties for women, particularly problems like urinary incontinence. La rééducation périnéale is typically carried out by a midwife and the goal is to retrain the muscles to prevent problems later in life. I start my first of 7-10 sessions of rééducation this coming week. Although it feels like a very awkward and uncomfortable thing to do, I'd rather not have to wear Depends when I'm older, so I'm willing to give it a try. 
• I mentioned in a previous post that France gives paid maternity and paternity leave (unlike the USA). Women get 16 weeks and men get two weeks. Rory's work was flexible, so he was actually able to spend most of Maëlys' first month at home with us. This time was invaluable for us to grow into our new roles as parents, to explore our changing relationship as a couple, and to love and support each other through the sleep-deprivation, constant cluster feeding, and piercing newborn screams.  
• And finally, another great aspect of living in France is that French people love babies. Especially older French women. So if you live in or visit France and want to practice your French conversational skills, I highly recommend having a baby with you (preferably your own). Parisians who wouldn't deign to look at you before will now ooh and ahh over your baby and will chatter away with you. Also, they are largely very kind and quick to offer help if you need it. 

What a cutie!

So it's been a great two months. Challenging, testing of patience, and requiring lots of learning, but an amazing experience nonetheless. Figuring out some of the resources available to new parents and understanding the medical system here has made a big difference in our confidence levels, and despite our very imperfect French language skills, people have been helpful and accommodating. Plus, we have this super cute baby who is learning new skills every day and becoming increasingly loving, responsive, and fun to play with. I'm a happy mama. 

A month already

Our daughter Maëlys is one month old today! She is getting increasingly squishy, is starting to make cute noises that sound like “Hi!”, and is smiling more often (though not because of anything we're doing). At times, she looks pretty convincingly like a balding old man, especially when Rory does his ventriloquist act with her. And if she's particularly hungry, when she starts feeding it often sounds like Zoidberg from Futurama. Here are a few noteworthy firsts from this week.

-Maëlys laughed for the first time. It was while our friend, Anna, was playing with her, which hopefully makes up for the fact that she often cries when Anna is around.

-She received her British passport four weeks early, so now we can for certain use those (expensive, non-refundable) plane tickets we bought to go to the US for Thanksgiving. Then we'll head to Scotland for Christmas. She'll be quite the seasoned traveler.


-She learned how to drink breastmilk from a bottle. It took a few tries and lots of ear-splitting screaming before she got the hang of it, but now Rory can help with the feeding occasionally. Yay!

Check out the comparison photo of her at 4 days old with the otter.

-Bottle feeding means that Mama started pumping milk this week. Yes, breast pumping really is just as weird as you might imagine.


-Maëlys and I were the furthest apart that we have ever been. The reason for learning to bottle-feed was that on Tuesday, as one of several music teachers with the American Conservatory of Paris, I presented at a musical instrument exploration day at a Paris international school to encourage kids to play string instruments. I was only gone for four hours but it was enough to make me feel refreshed. It was nice to teach and be with my music colleagues again.


-The three of us ate dinner at a restaurant for the first time. It involved Maëlys' first ride on the Paris metro trains. She also got her first view of Notre Dame as part of the outing, but I doubt she was looking.


All in all, it's been a great first month of parenthood. Our friends and family have been super helpful and we're managing to figure out some rhythms to our new life. Rory has started going back to work now and I'm learning how to be a full-time mom (at least until teaching starts again). It's definitely challenging on a daily basis, but we love this little human that we had the amazingly good fortune to bring into the world, and we can't wait to see what the next month holds.

"Seriously guys, enough with the photo shoot already."

Le bébé est arrivé !

In case you haven't heard, the baby has arrived! Little Maëlys joined us two weeks ago today. She is approximately the same size as a small otter.

She does not appear to swim as well as an otter, though, or enjoy raw clams.

Maëlys and Talia were both healthy and happy after the birth. As is standard in France, they stayed in hospital for 3 nights after the birth. In the UK and USA, usually you leave the hospital within a day or so, and only stay longer if there's a problem. Here, they routinely keep you until the baby has begun to gain weight. Having nurses and midwives around who can answer questions or provide assistance - even in the middle of the night - is a very reassuring way to ease into parenting, especially when we're all learning new skills such as changing nappies, or breastfeeding.

All set to go home!

Once we had been cleared to go home, we loaded her into our little car seat and drove her home in an electric car.

A week ago, she was a week old.

Today, she is two weeks old.

Both my parents and Talia's parents came all the way to Paris to meet their new granddaughter, and to share with us their love, support, and advice. I can't think of a better way to transition into parenthood! They left just a few days ago, leaving us to raise this critter all on our own. Wish us luck!

Preparing for Bébé, Part 3

Welcome to this week's installment of Preparing for Bébé. For those who are keeping track, I am now on Week 39 of pregnancy, and my day-to-day living can be summed up neatly in this picture. I'm pretty sure I've said the words “bladder” and “I need to pee” (or comically in French: j'ai envie de faire pipi) more in the last couple of weeks than in the entire rest of my life. At our last appointment, our midwife described the baby's head as being “très, très bas” (very, very low) in my pelvis, which is great for birth but a tad annoying in the immediate. Nevertheless, I'm feeling upbeat and optimistic, doing lots of walking, and baking double batches of chocolate chip muffins – just in case.

So for our final baby preparation blog post, I thought I would share our experiences with economizing on space in readying our apartment for the baby.

If you live or have lived in a large metropolis like Paris, you may be familiar with the concept of tiny accommodations. I, however, was not. I was used to relatively large houses with a garage, front and back yards, and plenty of personal space. Even when I went off to university and lived in a variety of cheap student apartments, there were always distinctly separate rooms and typically more space than I needed.

Coming to Paris, however, I quickly learned that space is at a premium. We have two friends who recently celebrated their move from one apartment to another one that was five times as big. Yes, they went from a whopping 7 m² (smaller than an average US bedroom) to a spacious 35 m² (75 ft² to 376 ft²). It made me realize what a luxury it is to have lots of room.

Our current apartment is 33 m² (355 ft²) and comprises a combination kitchen – living room – dining room area, plus a bedroom with an en suite bathroom. When I was reading about what furniture we would need for a baby, I kept finding pictures of immaculate nurseries that were bigger than half of our apartment. While this was somewhat disheartening, it also felt like a relief that we would not have to spend hours “designing the perfect nursery” and buy tons of furniture to decorate it with. Instead, we have had a fun time puzzling over how to fit everything into our limited space.

Puzzle #1: The crib

For example, we knew the baby's crib would need to go towards the foot of the bed in our bedroom as there was no other space big enough for it. However, most cribs on the market have dimensions that would have blocked our access to the bathroom, which would be a disaster for me in my current state of walnut-sized bladder. After weeks of searching, we thought we had settled on a smaller foldable crib that would only partially block our toilet access, but then realized it would only work for the first six months of the baby's life before it would be outgrown and we'd need a bigger crib. Back to the drawing board.

Message Classifieds to the rescue! Fortunately, I found a parent advertising a used Bloom Alma Mini crib, a fancy pants solid wood crib that is foldable and sized for “urban living spaces” with “room-to-room mobility during nap time.” Amazingly, the dimensions were perfect to slide into the nook next to our bedroom wardrobe, thus leaving plenty of space to get to the bathroom. It has an adjustable mattress height too, so it can last at least the baby's first 12 months. Hallelujah! Plus, we got it for less than half the original price. 

Puzzle #2: The changing station

If we could barely fit a crib in our bedroom, imagine trying to fit a typical diaper changing table in there too. We racked our brains to come up with a place for one and spent hours searching for small tables online, but ultimately found nothing. The solution?

The washing machine! We have a front-loading washer squeezed into our bathroom next to the sink, which happens to be at a great height for changing a baby. Just plop a contoured changing mat on top, and voilà! Of course, it wasn't quite that simple. Changing mats basically seem to come in one size, and, you guessed it! the size is bigger than our space would allow. Out of hundreds of varieties, I found only three that would sort of fit on our washing machine and none of them looked like great products. My energy spent, I enlisted Rory to continue the search in the more remote areas of the internet. Having almost given up, he finally stumbled upon a Danish product (BabyDan) on an Irish baby safety website that fit our dimensions to a T. What a relief! It may not be the most spacious baby changing area ever, but it should suffice.

Puzzle #3: Expectations vs reality

How do we fit a rocking chair in here? Where do we keep the stroller so it's not invading the whole living room? If we get a food processor/blender, where can we possibly store it? These are the other kinds of small living space questions we've been grappling with. Before coming to Paris, I now realize I had a lot of expectations about what constitutes a home, especially a home with two tax-paying grown-ups and a baby inside it. Years of subconscious media absorption led me to believe that a rocking chair was an absolutely essential element for nursing mothers. And I would have been fairly scandalized at the idea of storing kitchen appliances in the living room. These are very silly, trivial issues, especially in light of the massive problems facing the world today, but they have shown me how rigid my ideas have become on even some of the most frivolous of topics. Thank god for eye-opening experiences like moving to a new country.

As it turns out, rocking chairs are not mandatory for nursing mothers. They're not even that common in France. We opted to fill that space in our living room instead with a foldable dining table so that we could invite friends and family over for meals (there was previously only dining space for Rory and me). The food processor fits beautifully in our bookcase next to the baby books—why shouldn't it? And the folded stroller has found a home in a corner of the living room.

Sometimes the biggest puzzle in preparing for a baby is simply learning how to let go of your expectations. Most of us have developed beliefs over many years about the right way to do things. In coming to France, I've been reminded over and over that there are many right ways to live, to raise children, to furnish a home, to be successful, to be happy, and that our limited experience as humans can't possibly give us the omniscience to know the single best way to be. So try new things. Turn off that judgy voice in your head when you see something that doesn't conform to your expectations. Because really, we all just have the same goal. In the words of Tim Gunn, we have to “Make it work!”

La fête nationale

Thursday, the 14th of July, was France's fête nationale, usually known in English as "Bastille day". This is France's big national holiday, with a big display of patriotism, similar to America's Fourth of July.

The "blue, white and red" of the French flag, courtesy of the airforce. (The middle stream looks grey, but that's just because this picture was taken looking into the sun.)

Most English-speaking sources that talk about Bastille day mention that it commemorates the storming of the Bastille (14th July, 1789). This event, as it is told, was when the common people of Paris spontaneously rose up, stormed a huge medieval fortress (the Bastille), and freed the political prisoners inside, in a display of their desire for liberty against a tyrannical monarchy.

Some guys on horses.

Imagine my surprise to learn that the fête nationale does not (solely) commemorate the fall of the Bastille, and that the fall of the Bastille had nothing to do with political prisoners! In the late 1780s, France was going through a crisis - plainly, the country was broke, and the systems of government were over-complex and not conducive to economic growth. Cutting a long story short, the common people were upset at having limited representation in the ongoing negotiations to solve the crisis, and for various reasons (some true and some untrue) they believed that the king was going to lead a militaristic crackdown on the people of Paris. So, they stormed a military storehouse to gather weapons, but there was no gunpowder or shot. The closest place that had gunpowder? The Bastille! This then led to an armed standoff between the military governor who was in charge of the Bastille, and the mob of angry Parisians outside of it, who were armed but with no ammunition. Eventually the mob won, and the French revolution sort of snowballed from there.

Shiny helmets and swords.

One year later, on 14 July 1790, the French government held la fête de la federation, to commemorate the events of the fall of the Bastille in a show of national unity and solidarity. This event came during a time of relative calm; a constitutional monarchy was in place, with the king presiding over a (somewhat) democratically elected representative government. Feudalism was abolished, outdated judicial structures reformed, and things looked good. This historical event is also what the modern-day fête nationale celebrates. (Of course, as we know, everything was not fine in 1790, and the revolution would proceed with the overthrow of the royal family, radical dechristianization of the country, the reign of terror, several wars in Europe and the Caribbean, and the establishment of a republic with many freedoms previously thought impossible.)

So, that's what the day celebrates, more or less. The end of the ancien régime and the founding of the modern French state, with its principles of liberté, egalité, fraternité (freedom, equality, brotherhood). Every year along the Champs-Elysées there is a big défilé militaire (military parade).

Crowds assembled along the Champs-Elysées to see the military parade.

We decided to brave the crowds to see the parade. There were many people on foot from many different divisions of the armed forces (including the gendarmes and firefighters!), some on horseback, and a lot of vehicles. Motorbikes, jeeps, tanks, amphibious vehicles, artillery guns, diggers, engineering stations, and even a few drone launchers. Then there were many planes and helicopters that flew overhead. Apparently the president also makes an appearance, although we must have missed him.

A tank rolls down the Champs-Elysées.

In the evening, there was a big concert at the Champs de Mars (in front of the Eiffel Tower), followed by fireworks. We'd had enough of standing in large crowds by this point, and so we decided to watch it streaming online instead. It was quite different from either an American Fourth of July "pops concert" or a British last night of the Proms, two equivalently patriotic music events. You can see the whole concert here, mostly music from French composers but not entirely, finishing, of course, with La Marseilleise, the French national anthem. The fireworks were launched from the Eiffel Tower, which gives a lot of artistic options that you don't have from a ground launch (such as firing sideways). Rather than being bombastic and awesome (the "shock and awe" approach of American fireworks) this firework display was more beautiful and aesthetically appealing. You can view it here.

It was only the following morning that we heard of the terrible attack that had taken place in Nice. Committing mass murder on a day that is dedicated to celebrating freedom, equality, and brotherhood is one of the more repugnant acts I can imagine, but what better way to respond than to reaffirm those values, to stand firm in courage against those who would seek to divide us? The Paris revolutionaries of 1789 would stand for no less.

Preparing for Bébé, Part 2

In Part 1 of Preparing for Bébé, I mentioned some of the activities we've undertaken in the final stretch of my pregnancy. And in previous posts, I shared some of my experiences with things like health care and public transportation as a pregnant woman in France. By the way, good news on the transportation front! Once I hit about 8 months, my belly had become sufficiently large that people started regularly giving me their seat on the bus and métro. No more of the "I don't want to offend her by assuming she's pregnant if she's really not" behavior. It's been great! I really appreciate the Parisians' courtesy and generosity in this regard. The one caveat is that when people are engrossed in their phones (as most people are these days), it's much less likely they will notice my protruding tummy and I'll have to stand until a seat opens up. Such is life with technology these days.

Excusez-moi? Heavily pregnant lady would like to sit down. Anyone home?

Anyway, in today's blog, Part 2 of Preparing for Bébé, I'll look at two of the most helpful tools I've found that have allowed us to get ready for the baby. These are specific to living as an ex-pat in Paris, but provide a good contrast to the preparation process in the US or UK.

Message: like a bridge over troubled waters

The first crucial element in our quest to be well-prepared parents has been membership in Message, the large community of English-speaking parents and parents-to-be in Paris and its suburbs. I learned about Message from a blog post back in December when I was feverishly researching how to have a baby in France. Remember that my French language skills were pretty limited back then, so diving into French administrative websites for information on finding doctors, paying for health care, and registering at maternity hospitals was hugely overwhelming. Add on the early pregnancy hormones and anxiety, and I was barely keeping my head above water. When I found Message, I felt I had been saved.

Upon paying my 60 € membership fee, I received a very helpful book called The ABCs of Parenting in Paris, which explained everything from declaring one's pregnancy to government agencies to what types of butter are available in Paris grocery stores. More importantly, I was personally contacted by coordinating members of Message who answered my panicked questions and suggested I explore the online Message forums, where one can find a rabbit hole of members' questions and answers on any subject regarding the ex-pat parent's experience. It was a treasure trove of knowledge. Through these forums, I found an excellent English-speaking obstetrician, learned which hospitals not to go to, and got step-by-step instructions on submitting my pregnancy declaration to the government.

In addition to the online forums, Message offers classes led by trained volunteers on topics like birth preparation, newborn care, and breastfeeding. The classes were super helpful for Rory and me, and not just because they weren't in French (though that was a big part of it!) Another nice perk is that each Message member gets an assigned Breastfeeding Support Person who will help and advise you (for free!) with any questions or problems related to breastfeeding. Furthermore, there are Message play groups, monthly meet-ups, bring-and-buy sales, and seminars, as well as support groups for single parents, adopting parents, and more.

One of the most useful features of Message for us, however, has been its online Classifieds forum. Like Craigslist or France's version, Le Bon Coin, members can freely post their items for sale, apartments for rent, services offered, or items wanted, but you get to avoid the scams and shady characters common to Craigslist and don't have to contact people in French like on Le Bon Coin. Instead, it's just buying from one ex-pat mom or dad to another. The prices are often excellent and you can find gently used high quality (e.g. typically very expensive when new) baby gear. Plus, you get to meet friendly parents around the city who were in your shoes not too long ago and who can give helpful advice. It has been an invaluable service.

Membership in Message has already paid for itself many times over. When having a baby in a foreign country, especially when far away from family, anything that makes you feel less adrift at sea is probably worth doing.

The fact that Paris is a big enough city for a well-organized network like Message to exist, is also part of what makes living here a challenge. This city is expensive. This brings us to the second crucial element of our baby preparation: how to save money on baby stuff in a city where an apartment the size of a closet can sell for 200,000 €.

Saving money: go used and go online

Truth #1: Living in Paris is expensive. Although many ex-pats who move here work for big global corporations and can afford to live in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, we are not those ex-pats. Rory's two-year university contract and my very part-time music teaching keep us afloat and fairly comfortable, but the cost of living is just a smidge higher than we were used to in Ohio.

Truth #2: Having a baby is expensive. Holy catfish, Batman! Baby stuff is NOT cheap! 800 € for a stroller? 600 € for a crib? Well, there goes our month's rent...

With a first baby, there's often this desire to have brand new everything for one's precious bundle of joy. It has to be pristine! It has to be the best! I, too, had these feelings briefly.

But then I remembered that we most likely only have one year left in Paris, and international moving/shipping costs are enormous, so investing in brand new furniture and baby gear doesn't make sense as we may not even take it all with us when we move. That's where the Message Classifieds came in. The vast majority of our large baby-related purchases have come second-hand from Message members. Crib, stroller, swing, playmat, even dining room table and food processor were pre-loved by Message members. Had we bought everything new that we found on Message, it would have cost us in the neighborhood of 2100 €. Instead it cost us 595 €. It required patiently browsing through Classifieds posts every few days and making long trips out to the corners of Paris to pick items up, but the savings were definitely worth it.

Online shopping has been another huge money and time saver for us in Paris. Here's why.

As I was explaining to my incredulous mother the other day, there really aren't any big one-stop-shopping stores in our neck of the woods. Nothing like Target, Costco, or Walmart exists over here. You can find select places like Monoprix—a stand-alone department store that has groceries, clothes, and limited home goods, but the selection isn't very big by American standards and they're on the expensive side. So generally if I need to buy a wide variety of products, I have to go to a wide variety of stores. As I have no car, I have to walk or take the bus or subway to do my shopping. My 9-months-pregnant body can't handle too much of that these days, so that's strike one against traditional shopping.

Fill-your-car shopping trips and the stockpiling of groceries for the month aren't really done here either. In France, every few days you go to the boulangerie to buy bread, the boucherie to buy meat, the fromagerie to buy cheese, and it lasts for a few days or a week. Refrigerators and freezers are small, apartments are small, and we haven't had a pantry or closet since we lived in the US. You don't pick up 12-packs of butter at Costco because you won't have room to store it. Besides, again, I have no car, so I can't buy more than I can carry. I even gave in last month and bought what I call a Granny Shopping Cart, but I still can't bring that much stuff home at one time. Babies apparently need and consume a lot of random stuff, and heaven forbid if you should run out of diapers, or if the batteries for the baby swing die in the middle of the night. Or on a Sunday, when all of the stores here are closed. Going out shopping with a screaming baby every other day is probably not high on most parents' list of things to do, so that's strike two against traditional shopping.

Hence, online shopping.

After weeks of research on Amazon, bebe-au-naturel.com, lilinappy.fr, and dozens of other websites, after slowly reading and translating French product reviews and comparing prices in France, the US, and the UK, we ended up buying more than 300 € worth of baby-related stuff online (think wipes, baby laundry detergent, waterproof mattress pad, nasal aspirator, cloth diapering accessories, etc.) and had it shipped to our door (or to a nearby location for pick-up). It did mean dealing with unintelligible delivery-guy phone calls in French, but was otherwise an easy and straightforward way to ensure we got highly recommended products at cheaper prices. And I didn't have to kill my back and feet running around to dozens of stores throughout Paris to do it. I call that a win.

That's all for Part 2 of Preparing for Bébé. In our final installment, I'll show you how we are turning our little 33 sq. m (355 sq. ft) apartment into a baby-ready home without feeling like we're on an episode of Hoarders.

Have a splendid week, everyone!