Glue Guns, Food, and Family

I have a knack for being crafty, in spurts. The spurts are mainly due to the fact that children like to pick up small things, move them, and/or put them into their mouths. Children also like to touch things that tend not to come off themselves or whatever they touch easily. I also have a tendency to make crafty gifts for people, like them too much, and keep them for myself. A terrible habit to have, especially when the gift you are making is for a party an hour away and you can't seem to bear to part with it. The pressure to produce a second, equally fabulous item wears on ones soul with a vengeance. Any wise person would simply not admit to taking the intended gift for themselves and run to the store to buy something. I flood myself with guilt.
The last time I was spuratically crafty was in creating my Mother's birthday gift. I purchased some flowers and was going to use this great glass jar for a vase. I dressed it up with vintage buttons I had been saving for awhile now. Needless to say when I finished it, I simply couldn't part with it. The pressure was on! It's amazing what you can pull together when you really need too. I had used my only clean jar, so I dumped out the spaghetti sauce and cleaned the jar. Karma bit me in the ass and the label wouldn't come off. I scrubbed it for 20 minutes straight and finally gave up with a little bit of sticky still left. I was a hot gluing mad woman, burning my fingers affixing doo-dads with lightening speed. It turned out to be not that shabby but I learned my lesson, at least until I forget again.


Food is a driving force in my life. It's what I work with everyday. It's who I'm married to. It signs my paycheck. So it should come as no surprise that food will take me to great distances geographically, searching for the best, tasting my way throughout the day, seeking a rare jewel in the sea of so many choices. Recently the perfect Mac n' Cheese has become my obsession. It's something I've longed to find. Just the right balance of tender noodle, creamy sauce, and a little crunch on top to brighten the texture of it all. I tried a recipe by a famous television personality the other day and I was sure it would thrill and delight me. I was so excited when I pulled it from the oven, I could barely let it cool enough to take the first bite. It looked deceivingly delicious. It called for a small amount of diced onion in the Béchamel sauce, not much cheese, and seemed dry going into the oven. Sometimes you should trust your instincts. I choose this recipe because there was no American cheese in it, something I detest. I know... It makes my credibility as an American citizen questionable, but I just don't like it. There was also bay leaf infused into the sauce which I can appreciate. I prefer a caramelized onion to a raw onion added to a sauce because the flavor is night and day. When trying a new recipe I think it is important to follow the recipe exactly so you have a bases to start from. You may like it just the way it is. Or you may hate it, but think that with some adjustments you could fall in love with it. Sadly, this Mac n' Cheese wasn't the ultimate find. The good thing is I have a strong notion of what to change to improve it. I've yet to find time to give it another go but am hopeful that next time it will satisfy my tongue.


Sunday is the most delightful day of the week. A day to be lazy, a day without pressure, a day of family. All the kids are home as well as my husband and I. We try not to make any plans for the day but to be together. Breakfast on Sundays is my idea of a good time. Even if I'm the only one eating it, a hot breakfast is worth the effort. You'd be surprised how taking a few minutes to treat yourself can turn your day around and lift your spirits. During the week I brew a double shot of espresso, pour milk over it, and voilà... breakfast. Sundays I steam the milk, let it sit for a bit so it gets a nice thick foam on the top, brew my espresso, and have a real Latte that I've put some care into. French toast is my favorite simple breakfast. At work we have Challah bread on Fridays and by Sunday it's just the right texture to soak up a little egg mixture with a generous touch of vanilla. You can't rush French toast. You've got to let it brown a little before you flip it. I like it with warm blueberry syrup and dusted with powdered sugar. It makes my Sunday complete and carries my good mood on throughout the day.

I found out later on that Sunday French toast has a limit to how far it can cheer the soul. I went to dig my car out that had been parked at work all week during the blizzard only to realize it had been hit by the person who plowed the lot. Weeks later I am now eating my five hundred dollar deductible in order to keep my car in good shape. You see, I may drive a 1999 Buick Regal but it is paid for, has only 60,000 miles on it, purrs like a kitten, and feels like I'm driving a sofa... So to me, it's a great car.

It's seems like the kids have had one thing or another since the weather turned cold. At least one child has taken some medicine or another for the last 2 months straight. Our latest run has been fighting off ear infections and the dreaded pink eye. Those drops you put in their eyes do burn and you have to do it four times a day for at least a week. That's a lot of pain for a child to endure. How do you explain that Mommy hurting you will actually make you feel better? Eliot tends to be overly concerned for the well fair of his siblings when it comes to them receiving medicine. He insisted that everyone held Liam's hand while he got drops in his eyes. I love my kids.

For the 100th day of school Liam wrote 100 things he likes. It's too good not to share. Goldfish crackers, chicken legs, graham crackers, The Happy Birthday Song, Mrs. Guikema, friends, games, class, granola bars, apples, bananas, corn pops, Mario kart, Mario, princess peach, toad, volcanoes, boxes, magic tricks, spinning, toys, hugs, whispering, quiet, boots, socks, coat, bookbag, counting, Samuel, dancing, snow, crystals, Legos, movies, kites, butterflies, pictures, painting, singing, M, writing, sleeping, licking, Andy, Grandma, bookfair, Mrs. Wandless, silly squirrels, FUN, sleepovers, park, playground, jumping high, pirate ships, Nana, ice cream, cupcakes, flowers, Santa, hop, shake, Happy New Year, Earth, home, exercise, blankets, S, T, U, V, Z, W, A, B, C, D, G, H, I, L, J, O, X, clapping, cutting vegetables, making cake, looking at bones, rubbing my knee, and I like to go to the moon.

My husband and I will celebrate our 10th anniversary in April. We went to Europe for New Years as our pre-celebration. It seems we went straight from honeymoon to procreating and are just now getting a taste for traveling by ourselves again. Way back when, before kids and bills, when there was little to no care in the world, my husband would buy me gorgeous peach roses. Now I balance the check book and tell him they are too expensive to buy, so flowers are rare unless the are growing in our yard. I was surprised to open the back door on Valentine's Day and see a bouquet, just for me. I know there are a lot of people who think Valentine's Day is just a bunch of commercialized garbage. To me, it was special and I felt loved. This is a great time in our lives. It's like I'm dating my husband for a second time but without all the crappy stuff that happens when you are young and concerned about things that really don't turn out to be that important.

Lucien will turn five in May which means Kindergarten is just around the corner. I took him to Kindergarten preview night at Owen Marsh last week. He feel asleep in the car on the way there, a sure sign to me that my child couldn't possibly be ready for Kindergarten yet. We were sitting in the gym waiting for the event to start when he pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket. I had no idea he had them. He laid them out face down and told me it was my turn. On Wednesdays Lucien and Lily go to Grandma's house for the day. She plays memory with them with decks of cards. It blew me away. He is so smart and I had no idea! We got a few good games in then went to visit the three Kindergarten classrooms. Two were very full so we hung out in Liam's classroom with Mrs. Guikema. Lucien made good use of the counting blocks and didn't want to leave when it was time to go. The school was holding a bookfair that night as well. Lucien picked out a book called, "The Hot Rod Hamster". We went for ice cream afterward and got sprinkle cones. I even took him for a Happy Meal too, I know it was probably overkill seeing how I was more upset than he was. I don't get much one on one time with each of the kids. I've got to really take advantage of it when I have it.

There is more to tell... but the day has run out. Tune in next time for a tale of our adventure in St. Louis!

Snow Days

Like most of the country, we have spent the better part of this week snowed in. The kids went to school Monday. All day Monday the talk was, "The Blizzard is Coming! Buy Milk and Groceries! We're all going to loose power and be stuck in our homes for weeks!" The media in trying to prepare people for the onslaught of bad weather created a panic that was spreading like wildfire through the city streets.


Being a mother of four children eight and under, I was a little concerned but not overly so. When I was seven and a half months pregnant with my third child Lucien we survived a Tornado that took off a portion of our house and knocked out our power for eight days, then we had an ice storm and it snowed. Understanding how unromantic candle light is(it flickers so much you wish you were blind)and how cold a house can get without heat I was not digging this upcoming blizzard.

Let me take you way back to January 1999. A blizzard stirred up a lot of trouble the day before my eldest brother was to be married. Being a fierce tempered red head, I recall digging my mother's car out while three or more fully grown men sat in the warm comforts of home watching some terribly important sporting event. You can release a lot of frustration by shoveling snow. I knew just how much snow a blizzard could bring and wasn't really looking forward to it.

Monday night the streets of Springfield seemed like a ghost town. Funny actually because it was quite lovely outside. We had drizzling rain. Not freezing rain. Not sleet. Drizzling rain. All of Springfield was hunkered down already so my husband was home from work drastically early. I wanted to see The King's Speech and took this as a sign from God that he had maneuvered all the elements of the earth to allow me to go see a movie that night. I was about to walk out the door alone when my son Eliot decided to tag along. Not a single person was driving on the very clear streets that night. Eliot and I were the only people at the theater. After getting the proper snack-age, the girl working the counter warns me that this movie has vulgar language and my son probably shouldn't watch it. I assured her that he has already heard everything and knows what happens when he chooses to repeat those words. I don't think the people who worked that night were too happy to see us. Halfway through the movie Eliot says to me, "I know why we are the only ones in the theater!" I ask why and he replies, "Because this movie is so long."

Tuesday was a School Improvement Day so the kids had no school. By noon the snow had started falling and it was incredibly beautiful. The lunch business was dreadfully slow at work that day. My work isn't really affected by the weather. People tend to still have birthday's and get married even if there is a blizzard. So I stayed at work until around 2pm. When I went out to scrape my car I noticed a couple things. This blizzard that was pretty from indoors was ugly outside. It wasn't snow. It was tiny ice crystals whipping horizontally at your face. The drifts had already started to build up around the wheels of my car and it had only been snowing two hours. I forgot my gloves at home and had to retreat to the car shortly after beginning to scrape the windshield because I could feel the frostbite on my fingers already. My efforts didn't matter anyway. The wind was so strong my windshield had iced over again already... and then my wipers quit on me. I had to call my husband to come pick me up.

Now here is the thing about men. They tend not to believe you when you suggest they do something sooner than later because later is going to be too late. The weather was bad by now, really bad. Nearly white out conditions with people trying to get home from work early or make it to the store before they closed.

Now here is the thing about women. You are always going to have womanly things happen at the most inconvenient of times. Say like needing a tampon in the middle of a blizzard and not having one.

My husband finally makes his way to pick me up and I walk a block to meet him on the corner. He is trying to clear the windshield and it's just a mess. Meanwhile all the kids are at my mother in laws house and we still need essentials from the store. Essentials I should have picked up say last night during the drizzle. We make our way across town and he drops me off at the store while he goes to pick up the kids. I had been white knuckling the dash board the whole car ride and was glad to be walking into the store until I realized that it was still a really inconvenient time to be a woman, really!

Sometimes it's really embarrassing being a woman. Scratch that, it's always embarrassing being a woman. You have parts that either jiggle too much or not enough and you have all these contraptions to keep them in place, boost them up, or minimize them. Sometimes it's a combination of all three. Inevitably, whenever I have to make an embarrassing purchase for say lady products I always get the boy who is 14 and way to eager to give great customer service. The boy who hails me down across six checkout lines so I don't have to wait in line for the nice lady to check me out. The boy who is stunned when he has to scan my box of tampons. The boy who now can't make eye contact but feels like he should not to be rude which then leaves him in a sort of eyeball spasm searching for something to look at that is neutral. Not the tampons, not my face... so what does every man look at when they are unsure of what to look at? Boobs.

Longer story short... I got all the essentials including TP, milk, and beer. My husband picked me up with the kids in tow and it was just a few blocks to home sweet home.

Tuesday night was a blast. I knew I wasn't going to have to work on Wednesday. The blizzard was like manna from heaven! Josh made dinner(did I mention he went to culinary school but I never get to eat his food because we are always on opposite schedules?). I spent the night eating ice cream, drinking Tequila, and started a ongoing marathon of Bones. Special Agent Seeley Booth, Yowzers! If you are around my age you probably watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer as well as Angel. Excellent TV, great story lines that focused on kick ass adventures and saving the world. What girl doesn't like that?!

The whole house slept in on Wednesday. There wasn't much point in doing anything but being lazy. I made cinnamon rolls(busted open one of those Pillsbury canisters and baked it off)and reactivated the Bones marathon. Sometime in the afternoon Josh's step father came over with a snow blower and help dig us out. By now it was too late for Josh to make it to work so he was home again which meant dinner!

Thursday morning came with a sobering reality. Work. Yuck! School was canceled yet again because the temperature was something like -15 degrees. The only thing that got me through the day was the thought of watching more Bones when I got home. I made brownies and did a little housework to justify the time that I intend to sit on my butt eating brownies and watching Bones.

Friday... Kids still out of school. Honestly this is getting to be a little ridiculous. We live in a two bedroom house. Six people can't get along that well with this much time spent together in so little space. Today I had the unfortunate experience of being bit by the unhappy bug. I tried to shake it off as best as I could by pouring myself into my work. I had a fun Leopard Handbag cake that I was working on for a good friend of mine. It was his wife's birthday and she is over the top but the cake was for a small gathering so it had to be dramatic but small and simple as well. It turned out well, not bad for my first handbag.

Then my mood dipped. I had a lengthy conversation about happiness with someone and just couldn't shake off the cranky. After work I was so glad to come home to my awesome kids. I just happened to read an article on my homepage 5 Habits of Happy Families. It broke my shell. I could see clearly for the first time in weeks. It's me. I'm choosing to be unhappy. It's an article worth reading. http://lifestyle.msn.com/your-life/new-year-new-you/article.aspx?cp-documentid=27521994

I went to bed anxious last night about work today. Since I came back from vacation every Saturday at work has been a nightmare. If something could go wrong, it would. I went in a 5am with the hopes that this Saturday would be different. I needed a good day. It turned out to be a Fantastic Day! I nailed it. My timing was on, my artistry was good, nobody yelled at me, and I had many surprise visitors that kept my spirits high. I choose to be happy with the work that I did and walked away feeling good.

I came home hungry but too tired to make anything but a Latte. I mentioned breakfast sounded good and my wonderful husband began whipping up Belgian Waffles from scratch. He amazes me. I'll admit it. I'm not the easiest person to live with and yet he still carries on.

It's my weekend. Saturday night with my kids and all day Sunday with my husband. Tomorrow is my Mother's Birthday. I hope she knows how much I love her. She is really something else! I think I get my crazy funny caring wild inappropriate humor from her, more than she will probably admit too. I get my stubborn nature from her as well. She is fantastic and I'm proud to be her daughter. Happy Birthday Mom!

Why real bakers hate cupcakes.

I'll admit it, they are cute. Who doesn't love pealing back the paper that clings to the fine crumbs to find a perfectly moist cupcake? I like to poke my finger at it, not too soft, not too hard, just the right balance of flex and firm. Then comes the mound of cream swirled in a heap, if you are lucky there is a coating of sprinkles. If you are really lucky, the frosting is colored. One bite, then two and suddenly you are staring straight into the last bit. Here is where the anger sets in that the experience will soon be over. Rarely is a person satisfied by one cupcake. Perhaps I've gotten the entire demographic of the world confused, but I doubt it. So you are forced with a terrible decision. Do you fake satisfaction and restrain yourself or Do you wait until your husband leaves the room and shove a second cupcake into your mouth all at once as not to be caught before he returns. If he notices another cupcake is gone surely you can just blame it on one of the children.

Cupcakes are ruining good peoples lives. The cupcake trend is a bubble that has blown so big, it is on the verge of popping. I can imagine tomorrows headline, "Innocent bystanders attacked without warning, Cupcake to blame." So how do we grab hold of the situation before it is too late? Sadly I fear there is no stopping this monster. People are lazy. Yes, I said it. Why wouldn't you want someone to bake a perfectly good array of tasty little cupcakes with endless flavor combination's ready for the picking? What is meant to be one little indulgence becomes two or three cupcakes, just a backup should something fail with the first or second. Some even find themselves carrying a box full back to an empty apartment tricking themselves into thinking they will take the leftovers into the office the next day.

Cupcakes instill greed in people, just like iphones. The power of a small hand held diddly bought to reward ourselves, soon become a toxic bind we cannot live without. Some have found themselves standing in a line that wraps around a street corner just hoping to get a taste of their crack-cakes. We think ill thoughts about the person ordering in line in front of us, noticing there is only one of our favorite cupcakes left in the case. Thoughts of bodily harm come to mind as the fat cow in front of us has bought a whole dozen and then points to your cupcake and says,"Why not just throw that little lonely thing in the box too." You know it's against the law to beat someone in public for taking your cupcake but somehow you can see how a judge and jury would sympathize with you. You raise up your handbag to strike the woman in front of you when you notice a fresh tray of your favorite cupcakes coming out from the kitchen. The woman turns around to leave and sees you perched with your handbag over head. "Ahhh... just stretching", you say. "Been waiting in line a long time. Have a nice day!"

It is this kind of looming insanity that brings me to the conclusion that this must be stopped! No more cupcakes. Down with the cupcake! Instead I propose we bring back a long forgotten sister of the cupcake. Standing patiently in the sidelines as Brides everywhere are saying, "You know what I was thinking?... How awesome would cupcakes be for my Wedding!" Let's ban together to increase IQ's across the nation and reveal the truth. Cupcakes must go! Once these terribly delicious cuties have rid the planet, we will all sleep better at night. Awaking to a new day when the Layered Cake will dawn with a shining bright light once more. The concept is fool proof with a wide variety of sizes available, one can simply cut away at its perfect roundness to accommodate the hungry appetite however large or small. The Layered cake will restore peace to world as it creates a sense of community in sharing its velvety tenderness with others. A complexity that cannot be achieved in a single serving size monstrosity, a Layered Cake is capable of achieving a new dawn of palates sensitized to heightened awareness of the limitless ability to enjoy oneself in a manner that does not create discord amongst our fellow man. Created with skill and balance, for all to cherish and enjoy... The Layered Cake of peace, a piece of Layered Cake.




Just to clarify, this blog was in no way prompted by the fact that my husband brought home a dozen mini cupcakes tonight per my request from Walmart no less. I will not in anyway admit to having consumed 4 without noticing I had unwrapped anything. It simply did not happen. I also did not just scream in horror as I realized the kids had eaten the last mini cupcake.

Thank goodness they can't reach the chicken wings.

Bonne Annee!!!

Do you ever have that moment where you wake up thinking you had a crazy wild dream last night then the reality sets in that it wasn't a dream? Waking up to 2011 in Paris was Fantastic! Thank goodness my belly stirred because apple was having a little glitch with the iphone and no alarms had gone of that morning in Europe and in Asia. We ate the breakfast we had now become accustomed to, all be it still delicious in every possible way. I find myself waking up these days missing a full spread laid out for me every morning.




I was surprised to see so many Contiki people awake as it was still early in the day. There was a group of girls sitting at our table who had been out till 4:30am. They looked fabulous. Dressed and ready to go with full makeup on. It was only when they spoke that you could hear the tiredness in their scratchy voices. Apparently, they had been on the last metro of the night which abruptly stopped running on their way back. They had been kicked off along with the other passengers and had to walk the rest of the way back to the hotel. Not a short journey. Another couple of girls had stayed later at O'Sullivan's celebrating a birthday. At 4:00am wandering the streets of Paris they flagged down an off duty taxi driver who had stopped just to tell them he wouldn't take them. Desperate, The girl offered the Taxi driver 100 euros to take them to the hotel. The driver took the cash then lectured them all the way to the hotel how they shouldn't be walking the streets alone so late. The Scottish guy sat down next to me and I asked how his girlfriend was this morning to which he reply, "Kirsti's not feeling to well this morning." Nicole and Courtney grabbed plates and took them back to their room needing more rest after ringing in the New Year. All in all, it was still an amazing night despite the rough feel of the morning.

We started off the late morning with a quiet ride to the River Seine. The bus dropped us off right in front of the Eiffel tower, our first time seeing it up close and personal. I stand almost six feet tall and I had never felt so small in my life. With the fog, you couldn't even see the top. Perhaps it reached the heavens above for those fortunate enough to take the journey. We boarded a River Boat tour and settled into our seats. This amazing woman began speaking in French, then English, Italian, Spanish, Russian, and referenced Japanese, and Chinese as well. I expected the view from our seats to be awful but I was amazed at how interesting the bridges of Paris looked from this vantage point. There were these colorful barges along the way and Josh was fantasizing about us living on one. My husband is a dreamer. Most people think he is quiet because he is so respectful of others. He forms an impression of people before trusting them with his opinions. People are often surprised at how vocal he is once he has warmed up to you. The are few people who have seen just how incredible my husband is. Trust me, I'm a lucky gal!

After the river cruise we decided to walk the Jardins du Trocadéro that was home to the Christmas Village. Here we found an array of sinful pleasures and ate our way through to the Palais de Chaillot, the optimal place for a famed picture of the Eiffel Tower. The slower pace of this day was just what I had longed for. You would not believe the flavors we encountered.
My favorite consisted of a cookie wafer piled high with a coffee flavored mousse filling that was kissed with a thin chocolate coating. I have no idea what it was called, but it was outstanding. I stood in line and watched as two men made fresh crepes on hot round griddles. They used a small wooden tool to spread the batter as thinly as possible before flipping them to reveal a perfectly golden brown surface. Then comes the Grand Marnier and Sugar. It is folded and served piping hot. The men motioned for me to flip it back and drink the hot liquor from the crepe. A little afraid of the heat, I choose to smile and thank them then walked off and let it cool a bit. Walking and nibbling I came to the end of my crepe which was soaked with a hearty amount of liquor. I kicked it back and had one of those grand coughing fits, a sure sign of really enjoying yourself!
Next we came upon a dish I had seen earlier that day. The largest skillet ever about 4 feet wide filled with potatoes, ham, onions, and cheese with a creamy sauce. They stirred the potatoes to get to the very bottom of the skillet to find the delicately coated richness to serve to me. Once again I was floored by the simple goodness of the dish. I purchased a couple of handmade scarves and found a woman selling little figures mounted on family plaques. I had to buy one. We had reached the end of the village and the top of the Palais de Chaillot and there stood the Eiffel Tower in perfect view. Our friend Iris snapped our photo together and then helped me to do one of those cheese photos where you are holding the Eiffel Tower in your hands. Enjoying the relaxing pace of the day, we headed back to the Hotel for a nap before another big night out.

That evening we spent at Monmartre once more only this time we walked all 225 steps up to the Sacre Coeur. A little winded we took in the city scenery glittering below us. We walked through the winding cobblestone streets filled with small cafes and admired the dazzling lights strung above us. We had reached our destination Auberge De La Bonne Franquette. Our dinner consisted of a black current and white wine aperitif, a vegetable terrine, duck a l'orange, chocolate mousse cake with creme anglaise, and espresso. It was a meal shared with new friends and laughter as some tried escargot for the first time, quiet an experience. We had a little time after dinner before our next destination so we wandered a bit down to a little cafe named Cafe des 2 Moulin, The Two Windmills Cafe. We sat outside around a small pink metal table drinking our Chocolat Chaud and Cafe Creme. Turns out this little Cafe was where the movie Amelie was filmed. Inside the toilet was a shrine to the film which was quiet an experience going to the bathroom. There were many people taking pictures while you were doing your business. I'll admit. I couldn't go. First of all, I had a giant white coat on. Second of all, there were no seats on the toilets. Thirdly, I am not a very coordinated person. I couldn't see how one might manage to hold their coat over head, remove pantyhose, and hover above the toilet. Fourthly, there was pee all over the floor already from people failing the high action combo needed to make it in the pot. I can see why French women always look so hot in their mini skirts, stockings, and cropped jackets. It's an outfit born out of necessity for easy access peeing in Cafes. The next time I'm in Paris I will be prepared with the proper clothing and stronger thighs ready to hover and take aim!

After much consumption of liquid I was ready to head to our next meeting place, O'Sullivan- that swanky joint from last night(ha,ha), where I knew that there were seats on the toilets. Much relieved and standing straighter, we met the rest our of Contiki group and headed next door to the Moulin Rouge! Pretty much every group activity in France was a fire hazard. You should have seen the line to get into the Moulin Rouge. A staircase 6-8 people wide up and back down the other side full of people squished together like sardines. The wait wasn't terriblly long and we learned the good news that one couple from our group had gone to the Eiffel Tower the night before and gotten engaged! They were so cute, ahhh... Young Love. There is nothing like it!

The line began to move and we got our first glimpse of the inside of the theater. We checked coats and handed over our cameras as no photography is allowed inside the theater and were seated. The tables seated 6 and were arranged in a crescent facing the stage with tiered levels so everyone has a good view of the show. We were on the far left of the theater one table away from the stage. At first I was disappointed that we didn't have a spot on center view of the stage, but I quickly learned that we had some of the best seats in the theater. We were served 3 bottles of champange, and the birthday girl from last night was seated at our table. These were the girls that had paid 100 euro to get back to the hotel. We toasted to her birthday as sat back to enjoy the show.

Never have I been as enthralled as I was that night. I knew the Moulin Rouge had topless dancers in it, but I was unprepared for how tastefully it was done. That's not to say that you didn't notice the obvious, they were hard to miss. The costumes were as much the star of the show as the dancers were. Every act was mesmerizing with an endless array of sequins and feathers. We were so close to the dancers, you could feel the breeze coming off the feathers as they spun about. My face hurt from smiling. There was one act in particular that was difficult for Courtney to handle. She quivered behind me and I held her tightly as a giant glass box rose from the stage filled with water and snakes. A woman danced about grabbing a snake and wrapping it around herself. She then dove into the snake filled water. Courtney's nails were digging into my arms and I thought she was going to draw blood. Her face was turned into me as she couldn't bare to look. The glass cage dissented into the stage and the frightening scene was over. Nicole told Courtney to look up and there was a man hovering above us on a wire. Courtney thought it was someone with snakes and screaming once again dug her nails into my arm. It really was just a guy flying, no snakes, no need for panic. I assured her it was okay now and she stopped trembling and let go. Upon arriving back in the States I had to have my arm amputated from the extreme flesh wounds. Maybe it wasn't that bad, but I probably could have used a band-aid at least. Next up was a ventriloquist. A man who made me laugh so hard I though I was going to tinkle myself. He even had a real dog in his act. I don't know how he did it, but it was awesome! There was a juggler who defied all jugglers ever seen before and the strongest man in the world. He balance a woman's entire body weigh on his neck, then went on to show just how strong his biceps were. They were a dynamic pair, balancing, inverting, posing, the coordination and timing was impeccable. They must have been married. The dancing, the singing, the beauty of it all... It was a night I will remember forever, always returning a smile to my face when I think of it.

We had gone to the 11:00pm show and it was now well past 1:30 in the morning but there was a feeling of electricity in the air. We were all so elated, taking pictures together after the show. We didn't want the night to come to an end. The bus ride back to the hotel was cheerful and free as Ben entertained us with an array of songs to top off the evening. It was our last night in Paris. Back at the Hotel we said our goodbyes to our new friends. Already missing people we had just met. Back in our room we just couldn't sleep a wink. We packed and repacked. Set both our alarms on our phones, afraid that my phone still wouldn't work we instilled a backup plan including Josh's mom calling us at 11pm her time for us to wake up at 6am. We had a long day of travel ahead of us and were already worrying about getting to the airport on time. Finally the exhaustion set in and we fell asleep.

Goodbye Paris, Goodbye Moulin Rouge.
Goodbye Sacre Coeur, Goodbye Cafe des 2 Moulin.
Goodbye Eiffel Tower, Goodbye Christmas Village.
Goodbye Champs Elysees, Goodbye Arc de Triomph.
Goodbye Louvre, Goodbye Saint Michel.
Goodbye Notre Dame, Goodbye River Seine.


Have you ever awoken with your heart pounding, knowing something just isn't right? Our alarms failed us and so did our backup plan. I don't know if we were just too tired to hear them or if they really didn't go off again. I flew out of bed and Josh awoke with a start. Thankfully it wasn't as late as I had feared but it wasn't as early as we would have liked it to be. Thank goodness we still had time for breakfast! I tried to eat a hearty meal sad to be eating my last peach yogurt in France. The dairy is just amazing in France, it's made everything I've consumed since being back home seem a bit off. I was sure too have bacon too, salty foods are always good for flying. Chocolate croissants were a must, and jam and bread. Okay, I ate a lot that morning. I was proud of myself for putting nothing in my pockets but regretful later at the airport when I was hungry again.

We finished packing our bags and walked down to the Metro. There was a crazy drunk couple arguing and no attendant on duty to purchase tickets from. Uh oh. Back to the hotel to ask the front desk a few questions about how to get to the airport and then back to the Metro again. As luck would have it, there was an attendant on duty. I was a little flustered by now and not thinking in French when I asked for our tickets. Bad news. I had forgotten if you don't at least first try to speak french to begin with you get no response or help. I calmed myself even though I was panicked on the inside. Now were are standing there with our luggage so I know this guy has to know that we are traveling somewhere. "Charles de Gaulle , S'il vous plait?", I calmly said. To which my response was, "OUI Madame! Charles de Gaulle... oh la la la... Charles de Gaulle... Oui!!" So we got our tickets. Yippee and we were off. We had to switch to the RER line which took us all the way to the airport. We narrowly caught the train. Josh's luggage got caught in the door with him on the outside and I had no idea what to do when a lady pressed a button next to the door which opened it and he was able to step inside. ShhWoo!

We made it to the airport and started an epic day of travel. First the line to check into American Airlines, then security. At security we were asked if we had anything on us, "No,no, nothing on us." I walked through the sensor and all the alarms went off. "Crap!" What had I done? A women asked if she could search me and of course I said yes, I had nothing to hide from the world. She began feeling me and patted my belly asking, "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" Dang it, I had forgotten I was wearing a money belt. I had worn it the whole trip and become accustomed to the feel of it. I reached to take it off and I think she thought I was trying to detonate explosives or something because she started yelling at me in french while I yelled, "No,NO! Money Belt, MONEY BELT!!" I froze with my hands in the air and she grabbed it from my waste to put it through the scanner. OK, every thing is good now right? Wrong. She continues to pat me down and finds something in my pocket. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?", again she asks. I'm a girl who's always prepared. I had a tampon in my pocket. So I'm shouting, "Tampon!", and she doesn't understand me, "TAMPON!, TAMPON!" I'm trying to gesture the motion(Which there really isn't a universal sign for tampon that you can use in a airport in front of security without having a really invasive search done.)but she doesn't want me to move at all so I go to take it out of my pocket when suddenly it dawns on her... "OH, Le Tampon!" Yes... Tampon. "OK!", she waved me on and my search was over. I was free to take my euros and tampon in all my glory aboard the plane.

All that stress had worked up another appetite so we had a bite to eat before our flight, again delicious. We ran into the couple who had gotten engaged at the airport and said a quick hello and goodbye. I must just look like a terrorist because the woman in the gift shop didn't want to sell me postcards without my boarding pass. They were postcards for crying out loud, What am I going to do with them? I was glad to board the plane home until I realized I had the middle seat next to a man much larger than me with elbows of iron and breath of fire. It was a long flight. I would fall asleep for 5 minutes at a time and wake up looking at this guys face and be frightened every time. By the time we got to Chicago I was delirious and we had a 6 hour layover. Boo! We sat down at Chili's for a bite to eat, no rush on time here and up walks my friend Dana from work to the bar to get a beer. Josh says, "That girl looks so much like Dana." I say, "That is Dana. Those are her jeans!" I walked up beside her and got right next to her until she turned around and scream,"Ah.. AH!!" She sat down with us and I shared our photos. I tried to talk but I'm sure nothing made sense because I had gotten about 12 hours of sleep our entire trip.

We said goodbyes and began the remaining 5 hour wait for our 30 minute plan ride home. Yes, we could have driven home faster. I bought a neck pillow and tried to sleep. I walked around a lot and peed about 20 times reveling in the fact that there were seats on the toilets. They even had the fancy rotating seat covers, Divine! We finally boarded the plane home and there was a flight attendant aboard but no pilots. A ground crew guy came aboard and flirted with the flight attendant for a good half hour as she told him all about her New Years, getting sick, her obsession with chap-stick, yadda yadda yadda. 45 minutes later the pilots show up and she goes to close a door and breaks it off it's hinges. Great. A guy gets up and tries to help her fix it. 15 minutes later it's fixed. Then we wait to take off. Eventually we arrived at the airport where we greeted the kids and fell in bed to sleep for a week.
It's good to be back home, adjusting to real life. Today my bubble popped and I realized vacation was over as I was paying bills. In all honesty a lot of time was spent missing our kids while we were in Europe. I even began missing them months before we left. Traveling the world is incredible but I'd still take cuddling up with the kids and hearing I love you mom over it any day. I hope everyone has someone to love them because we all need it, be it from a parent, a spouse, or a child. We all need love.

I might continue blogging in the future. Life is an adventure every day and there are always stories to tell! Thanks to my new friends who put a little action to in our adventure making the story more interesting, I give you an honorary High Five!

Paris- New Years Eve

The most delightful thing I took away from Europe was how unprepared I was for the people I found while I was there. You could never tell by looking at a person where they were from. Where I'm from you can pretty much take one look at a person and instantly know their whole life story. In Europe someone could look Asian, sound British, and live in Australia. It was refreshing to meet so many different people from all over the world.

12/31/10
NEW YEARS EVE
We came here expecting to eat our way through Paris and found ourselves hungry instead. 6am we rolled out of bed and shuffled downstairs, the Hotel provided a nice continental breakfast. Thick sliced bacon, sausages, potatoes, eggs, jam, bread, cold meats, cheeses, yogurt, coffee, hot milk, juice... delicious. We learned early on that waking up for a good breakfast was a must. My breakfast was amazing, little tiny Peaches bursting in your mouth with a delicate smooth yogurt surrounding them. Heaven!

It seemed like the sun slept longer in Paris and the day started later. It was the kind of morning where you could see your breath in the air with a stinging cold. Paris looked so different with the sun dawning over the day. You know the famous Paris gray people talk about? It's not a dull sky, it's just not a bright sunny sky like we are used to. There is a layer of fog covering the city but not so low that you can't appreciate the skyline above, it just lobs off the very top of the Eiffel tower. I think it looks more romantic with the fog, mysterious even. The first day back in the States I remember thinking the sky was blinding because I had become so accustomed to the Paris Gray. It is this skyline that makes your photos look so rich and allows the natural colors to really stand out.













Our first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower in daylight was followed by a trip down the Avenue Des Champs Elysees towards the Arc De Triomph through a round about and past the Opera House till we arrived at our destination, Fragonard Parfumeur. Being extremely sensitive to smells, often getting migraines from smelling perfume, I was anxious about hurrying this tour along. We stepped inside to a beautiful entryway. Upstairs our tour began with a woman explaining how parfum was made. Parfum is a concentration of essential oils mixed together to form a unique scent along with water and alcohol. Parfum is the most concentrated mixture containing the most essential oil, Cologne, and Eau de Toilette have less. It is important when smelling parfum to wait at least 3 seconds before sniffing so the alcohol has a chance to evaporate from your skin. Then you will smell the true essense of the parfum. Parfum is also layered in notes, fruit, flowers, and a musk usually. The scent will vary from person to person and last longer on some people than others. As time passes, the smell of the parfum will change. We had a chance to smell many parfums, some were quite nice. I tried on a scent called Just a Kiss with notes of Strawberry. It was lovely on paper, horrible on my skin. This is why it's so important to see how things mix with your body chemistry. Some thing aren't meant to be I suppose.



The tour was ending and we were discussing what our plans were for the day when a couple girls, Nicole, Courtney, and Lauren invited us to hang out with them and go on a walking tour later. Lauren didn't know Josh was my husband. I had asked Josh for my gloves and Lauren not knowing he was with us thought he was a Gypsy handing me something and tricking me! In all fairness, Ben had told us many tales of the tricks they would pull on you so Lauren was just being very cautious. I thought it was hilarious. I said, "It's okay, he's my husband!" and we all had a laugh. We walked to the Apple store and I was very excited to check my email, update facebook, and be a total American geek wasting her time in Paris on her iphone instead of drinking in the history. I know I'm lame but at that moment the universe was a peace.







We walked passed the Opera House and navigated our way to the Louvre. If you have no idea of the scale of the Louvre you are an idiot. It's huge. I thought the Ferry was big, HA! It was quite a walk to the center of the courtyard and then interesting figuring out the entry situation. Our tour guide Ben had told us of a totally legit way to get in through a less known entry. It was just finding it that was presenting itself as a challenge. We tried to enter another exhibit which was not connected to the Louvre at all then circled back around and when we did, we found the top secret entrance, Ah ha! So we went in and happened upon the giant inverted pyramid which was made famous in the book/movie The Da Vinci Code. The line was long, time was running short, and it was about a half hour till our walking tour began. So we ditched the Louvre. In all honesty you could spend a whole week at the Louvre alone, I had already been and can attest to it's magnitude.

We changed plans and walked along the River Seine back to the Metro Stop by Saint Michel in the Latin Quarter where our tour group was meeting. We arrived with a little time to spare and purchased croissant and cafe cremes at a small bakery.
Upon exiting the bakery they were selling these deliciously melty ham, butter, and cheese creations on toast. We simply had to buy one. Like true Parisians we wandered about eating our lunches. Happy to have full bellies and warmed a bit from the Cafe Cremes, we met our walking tour group. Lauren was absolutely freezing at this point and ventured off on her own, back to the Louvre I think.

Our guide was named Arnoud, comically enough he was an American man married to a Parisian woman named Jennifer. He was originally from L.A. but lived in Paris with his wife and son giving free tours for the good of humanity, he also lived off of tips which he was well deserving of. He was a fantastic guide and lead us on a very cold tour back along the River Seine(at least it was on the other side)towards the Louvre where we had just walked from. Mind you, this in not a short walk and it was not a warm day at all. He told us the Tale of Notre Dame and how if it were not for a man named Victor Hugo writing a book entitled Notre-Dame de Paris, "Our Lady of Paris" which later became known as the Hunchback of Notre-Dame, how the Cathedral would have been torn down as it was in great disarray. The people of France however fell so in love with his grand story that they decided to restore the Cathedral and celebrate her beauty.

We crossed several bridges on our tour. Pont Neuf was my favorite bridge as it was the first stone bridge built in Paris. My history may be a little off on this one but bare with me here. This bridge took many years to build and the King celebrated by throwing a huge party with all his friends, so many friends that they emptied the kings wine cellar that night in celebration. The King loved his friends so much that he had an artist sketch portraits of each one of them. The next day he was looking over the portraits and noticed how amazing they were. He decided instead of giving everyone their portrait he would forever embody his friends in time by placing their faces on the Pont Neuf Bridge. Arnoud said the bridge essentially became the first Facebook of history. ;)


It must have been Henry IV who commissioned that bridge as his statue is just at the end of it. Arnoud clued us into the fact that most of the time you could tell how a person died by how the horses feet are positioned that they are mounted on. This poor guys horses feet where raised in the air, a sign that he died of unnatural causes i.e. he was stabbed to death. There had been many assassination attempts on the Kings life, some 23 attempts. The 24th man jumped in the King's carriage as he was riding one night and stabbed the King in the belly. The King laughed in triumph and said, "You'll have to do better than that!" to which the assassin thrust the knife in his heart and twisted it.

Down the River Seine further yet we crossed the Pont Des Arts Bridge which was covered in something very peculiar, locks. This bridge is special to us very lame Americans who love Sex in the City as it was the bridge that Big and Carrie had their glorious moment on. For all the other lovers of the world, it is the place to declare your love for all time. You take a padlock, write your initials on it, hook it to the bridge, and throw the key in the River Seine gesturing in huge dramatic motions while declaring your love for all time. It's very romantic. Arnoud pointed out a combination lock on the bridge, a good choice for those of you who can't quite commit. However very romantic this is, every couple of months they cut all the locks off and throw them in the river so they don't clutter up the bridge. Josh and I just threw a lock in the river to save time. ;)

Over the bridge and across the street we entered the Louvre courtyard. At least we were coming from a different direction this time and got to see another vantage point. Along this walking tour there was a couple, not from the Contiki tour, who were very fond of each other. So fond of each other they were that they had to make-out at every landmark we stopped at along the way. I have very little memory of what Arnoud said about the Louvre because I was watching this couple make-out. I had avoided looking thus far but Nicole was pointing it out to me and I lost all concentration after that point.

After the Louvre we walked across the street to see some other King's palace then down past a fountain and on towards a Starbucks for a tinkle break and nourishment. Arnoud did point out the direction of the Opera House, a sight to be seen because all the other previous Opera Houses had burned to the ground by freak accidents. This Opera House, lucky number 13, is equipped with many methods to extinguish fires as they are prepared for it to burn down at any second. We had already walked past it, hip-hip hooray! Being very cold and in Paris, we decided to break from the group and go to a real cafe. We tipped Arnoud, said our goodbyes, and headed around the corner to a small cafe.

Courtney and Nicole ordered Cafes with a kick of Kirsch and Grand Marnier, Josh got the Salmon plate and a Cafe Creme, I being the idiot that I am, wanted a croque-monsieur but panicked when the waiter came to the table. I once again yelled, "Creme Brulee!" I also had a Cafe Creme. What a disappointment, it was the worst Creme Brulee I've ever eaten and I have had some really bad food. At least after this moment I never ordered wrong again. Time was slipping away and the day was growing shorter. We headed in the direction of the Avenue des Champs Elysees to get to the Arc de Triomph before 5:00 when it closed which meant walking back through the Louvre again. Let me tell you, the outside of the Louvre saw a lot of action from us that day.

Passed the Louvre is a huge fairs wheel and then a roundabout that you must cross to get to the Avenue des Champs Elysees. There was a massive amount of people crossing as it was New Years Eve and the Avenue des Champs Elysees is a very popular place to celebrate on New Years Eve. Also the street was lined with the Christmas Villages selling Candied Fruit, Crepes, Vin Chaud (Hot Wine), Hats, Scarves, Jewelry, Handmade Christmas Goods, you name it and they were selling it. It was amazing, so much to look and at so many people standing around it was difficult to navigate and we were trying to make good time. Nicole had a dark coat on and is very small, Courtney also had on a dark eggplant jacket and is tiny too. Thank God I'm a giant and was wearing the only white coat in Paris. I was easy to see and Josh had on a Green jacket, also easy to see. I walked/jogged with Nicole (she is a fast walker!) and Josh walked with Courtney weaving our way through the crowd. We crossed another street and were now out of the Christmas Village at the beginning of the shops of the Champs Elysees. Louis Vuitton, Swarovski, Cartier, there were so many beautiful stores and we were rushing by them to get to the Arc De Triomph. We didn't make it in time to go up to the top, but we did get the last few moments of daylight for our photos. The Arc De Triomph is massive and beautiful. It's not until you are standing underneath it that you can truly appreciate just how glorious it is.












Very, very cold with tired feet we descended the steps and crossed through the underground tunnel away from the Arc de Triomph. We caught the Metro back to our hotel and stopped at a small grocery for New Years Eve Essentials. Champange, Cheese, and Jam! We parted ways with Nicole and Courtney and headed back to our room.


Josh had picked up a baguette at the bakery we stopped at in Saint Michel earlier in the day. We ate Brie with Fig Jam on our Baguette and toasted the evening in with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. It was the best dinner we ate in Paris!

After a short nap, we met the girls again and took the Metro to the Anvers stop to meet our group. We missed the group by 10 minutes and headed up Montmartre towards Sacre Coeur. This is when we happened upon the real Gypsies! Ben wasn't kidding when he said they were really aggressive. We saw a man tie a string around a girls finger, one of the tricks Ben had warned us about. A few guys talked to Josh and Courtney to which Nicole and I just grabbed their arms and walked onward. There are a mere 225 steps leading to the top of Sacre Coeur, thankfully the Metro was Free on New Years Eve so we got a free ride to the top of the hill where we met our Contiki Tour friends and had a pre-toast to the New Year. At 9pm we watched the Eiffel Tour do it's sparkly show then headed through the streets of Montmartre to a little Cafe.

Turns out this wasn't just some little Cafe, it was the Cafe that Amelie was filmed in. We sat outside and drank Chocolate Chaud while real Parisians blew smoke in our face, Glorious! Later on we walked down the hill to a bar right next to the Moulin Rouge called O'Sullivan's. Sounds French right? ;) It was like any other bar you might imagine except there were no restrictions as to how many people could be inside so had it gone up in flames we would have all died. The password to get in the door was Contiki Ben and we were doubtful it would work with how many people were surrounding the club. Surprisingly, we got in and danced the night away. To sum up the evening, we checked our coats down a narrow twisting stairwell which I began to fall then caught myself before I took about about 20 girls in front of me. The dance floor was crowded and I was getting bumped from every angle by poorly behaved wildly dancing girls. I'm a large person and I was still getting tossed around. I love Nicole because she intervened and danced her little 5 foot nothing over to where I was standing to bump these girls back and claim our dance space. It was amazing to watch, and she did it twice that night. Our Contiki people danced all over for many hours and counted down the clock. By now there was broken glass all over the dance floor, you just couldn't avoid it. Iris bought a bottle of champagne and we toasted to the New Year, Nicole kissed a random boy, and we hit the bathrooms. Remember those badly behaved girls I told you about earlier? This is where I got punched in the face on New Years Eve. Nicole and Courtney went to the restroom and I was following, somehow Josh didn't make it through the crowd and I turned around into a fist square in the face. I was so astonished at what had just happened that I was frozen. I turned to look for Josh and he wasn't there and the girls had gone on ahead of me. So I took a deep breath and walked on by. Soon after that we got our coats. There was a cute boy in the coat check line that Nicole and Courtney thought should join us but he didn't speak much English. Back up the steps to leave and the girl who punched me decided to push by us in line. Bad idea. Josh planted his feet, so did I, and poor Courtney got shoved to heck. She turned around with vengeance in her eyes to which Nicole grabs Courtney and we head for the exit. Iris headed out with us and we were off to the Metro.
The line was closing at 1:30 for the night and catching a cab on New Years would be impossible. The trains were packed. We saw a clearing on a train stepped in an there was puke all over the floor. So gross. I was the first one on the train and did one of those giant leaping steps to avoid it. Everyone else managed to get around it and we squeezed into the train further down. We transferred stops and had to wait quite a while for the last train home. The girls were getting pretty loud by now, Josh and I were glad to not have drank much and the mother in me came out as I tried to quiet everyone down. Courtney says,"They are all French, they can't understand me!", to which we all replied, "Yes, they can." Back safe and sound at the hotel we turned into bed for the night. What a long day.



I have found myself torn between using the English spelling and the French spelling of many words in this blog. I tend to use the French because that is how I saw them used during my travels, yet they are missing their accents as I am not crafty with computers. Please forgive me for my errors, for I am a mere novice at blogging and am recounting this mainly for my own enjoyment.

Next up... River Boats, Hangovers, and Moulin Rouge! Keep reading to find out how well the 3 mix! Bonne Annee!!!