Winter travels part 1: Thanksgiving, USA.

We've travelled a fair bit this winter, but we've hardly blogged at all! Sorry to keep you waiting. This post is the first in a series!

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is a big American holiday in late November, where you get together with family, eat a lot of food, and be thankful. It's basically a harvest festival.

For Talia's family, this is a big celebration, so we made a special effort to traverse the 9 time zones from Europe to Oregon. Since it's such a long trip, we spent two weeks there.

The Oregon coastline.

Marilyn, me, Maëlys, and Talia, keeping warm on the beach.

The big event, of course, was thanksgiving day. There were 21 of us in total - me, Talia, and Maëlys; Talia's three brothers and three sisters-in-law, and their children (three boys and two girls); one of Talia's cousins and her husband; another of Talia's cousins and her two children; and Talia's parents. Eight children, ranging from 4 months to 11 years, and thirteen grown-ups. What a party!

Maëlys's cousins learn how to spell her name.

Marilyn's famous dinner rolls!

Lemon meringue pie!

More pies, and a turkey.

Everyone assembled before the eating began! Not pictured: me.

Of course, for everyone except Talia's parents, it was their first time meeting Maëlys. (And she'd grown a lot since Talia's parents saw her last!) So there was lots of baby-holding and cooing.

Maëlys with Grandpa and Erik.

Maëlys with Hanna.

Maëlys with Mayela. (Note her thanksgiving-themed dress!)

Aunt Ashley reads a story to Travis, Maëlys, Sage, and Erik.

As a bonus, here's a picture of Hanna reading her parents the Scots translation of The Gruffalo, and explaining what words like "biled" and "ahint" mean.

Click to zoom in!

A lot of food was eaten, as is traditional, and it was fantastic to see everyone and have them meet Maëlys and compare baby stories. A refreshing trip to the new world!

Next up: Milan!

Have baby, will travel

Baby becomes world traveler

It's 8 am and my nearly 5 month old daughter is noisily sleeping in bed next to me. She fell asleep mid-suck during her last feeding an hour ago and I just kept her on our bed. She's been farting every few minutes. It's kind of cute, actually. (Add that to the list of things you never thought you'd say until becoming a parent!) Her pudgy little arms are stretched out in a T; she's enjoying taking up half of the big person bed since Rory is currently in Austin, Texas.

Maëlys gets her own seatbelt!

After spending two weeks in Scotland with his family for Christmas, Rory left us here to go be an academic and give a talk at the Linguistics Society of America conference. I'm still enjoying the kind assistance of his parents so that I don't have to take care of the baby on my own in Paris. I tried that for three days after our return from Oregon a month ago (we spent Thanksgiving with 20 family members!) and it was by far the hardest time I've experienced thus far with the baby. While Rory was at another conference in Milan, Maëlys and I were suffering from a 9-hour jetlag, and for nearly a week she was waking up every 15-30 minutes during the night and wailing. Nothing made it better. I could count my total hours of sleep that week on one hand. I have much more sympathy now for parents of children who sleep poorly. And for single parents. I felt like a train wreck.

But in all other respects, travelling with a baby has been easier than I anticipated. Maëlys has now been on five airplanes, 30 total hours of air travel, and she was an excellent passenger on four of them. The only exception was the 10-hour flight back from Seattle to Paris, which she didn't seem to like despite doing fine on the way over. We had a bassinet* at our disposal, but she barely slept anyway and was fussing in our arms most of the way. Still, she's had no problems on any of the flights with the change in altitude creating pressure on her ears, which was my big concern, and we've always had enough diapers and spare clothes to get us to our destination. For reference, we packed one diaper for every hour of travel and had plenty to spare. Just in case that's useful information for you.

Travel expectations
When I married a Scotsman, I knew my future would involve lots of travel. We've made it to visit our families in both the US and UK almost every year that we've been together. And I knew if we had kids it would mean plenty of plane, train, and automobile rides with our offspring. But whenever you tell someone you're taking a three-month-old on a 22-hour door-to-door trip, they unfailingly look at you with shock and pity and then say (perhaps with a hint of schadenfreude?), "That's going to be rough. It'll be even harder when they're older!" The effect these words have on an intrepid new parent is to terrify the pants off them. We already know it's not going to be easy. Long-distance travel is hard on anyone. But when seemingly every single person perpetuates the same fear-inducing attitude towards travel with babies, it makes the experience much worse for first time family travellers.

Can I make a suggestion? If someone tells you they're travelling with a young child, don't express how hard you think the journey will be, whether you have personal experience or not. Don't even assure them that it'll be fine now but worse when the kids are older. Instead be excited for them. Ask questions about what they'll see and do. If you do happen to have helpful tips from your own family travels, share them tactfully if they are welcome. And then when they get back, perhaps congratulate them on a successful trip and by all means empathize with them if they had a difficult journey. But help them stay positive both before and after their trip and they'll be more likely to enjoy the experience.

After all, for the last two months, Maëlys has been experiencing a deluge of new people, sights, smells, and sounds, all of which enrich her development and understanding of the world. She's experienced Oregon evergreen forests, rambunctious cousins, the salty sea air, sheep in Scottish pastures, a surprising number of rainbows, an assortment of accents, Christmas trees and lights, babies older and (two days) younger, grand- and great-grandparents, and cuddles from everyone under the sun. She has taken it all in stride, often with wide-eyed curiosity and an eager smile. For her to have those opportunities is worth any potential discomfort from the voyage. I, for one, am excited to travel with my baby and can't wait to share the delights of the world with her.


That's all for now! We're still trying to get caught up with our normal lives after spending five weeks away from Paris. Obviously, blogging has fallen by the wayside. We'll put up some pictures from our trips to Oregon and Scotland soon, I promise!


*A word about bassinets on planes: Delta Airlines has sleeping bassinets for babies under 20 pounds and 26 inches long (9 kg, 66 cm), but their policy on providing one is iffy. When Rory called to book our flights he was told they couldn't guarantee him a bassinet and it was first come, first served, so we should get to the airport three hours early and request it at the gate. We dutifully did this, and it worked fine in Paris. Coming home however, the Portland Delta staff told him the bassinet would go to whoever booked their flights first. The lady spent ages looking up this information, as there was another dad waiting in line just behind Rory for the same reason. Turns out we booked second, so it should have gone to the other family, but they had booked an extra seat as well and were willing to give us the bassinet. Hooray! Too bad Maëlys didn't want to use it. The moral of the story: find out your airline's policy on bassinets. Then be prepared to be told something completely different.

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!”