Twenty-four Hours of Chic in Cannes

One of the things the French Navy does right is "l'escale."  The word even sounds better in French, "escale", than it does in English, "port visit".

This paragraph will make US Navy people crazy jealous.... So here, this time, the ship is out for a month.  And the planning-friendly port visit is fixed for halfway through the "deployment".  The ship pulls into a fabulous city for a weekend.  There is no buddy-system, no curfew, or standing-watch required: have a good weekend, everyone, see you Sunday afternoon.    

And if he is going to have some time-off, I'm going to do all I can (move heaven and earth to find somewhere for my kids and the dog to spend the night), so that I can have some time off from full-time-parenthood to be with him.  A twenty-four hour weekend getaway with my handsome husband, YES please.

The escale was in Cannes, just an hour and a half away from where we live, making it totally doable for the twenty-fours Phil was free.  I'm not in any way "cannes" type of girl.  I wear a lot of Old Navy clothes here in brand-name-only-fashion-France, thank-you-very-much, but I did go out and buy a new pair of designer sunglasses before my weekend amidst all the glitz and glamour.  Phil rolled his eyes at me, but they helped give me some confidence as I, a housewife, walked down the croisette with all the divas.

I had a lovely, bubbly bath at the fancy hotel and then a quiet, relaxed dinner with my husband.  The next lazy morning, we consumed four of our favorite things before 12:30pm--a café creme and a pain au chocolate and an hour later, a carafe of rosé and a pizza (the french make really good pizza).  For us, that's living big!

Weekend getaways are the best!  Weekend getaways in Cannes, France---vive la French Navy.         

Le Carnaval -- Year 3

In our last year here, I'm starting to finally figure all of this out...important things...like what to expect at elementary school sponsored activities.  And here in France, one of the most important in the mind of any school-age child, is the Carnaval.

My first year here I was overwhelmed by the chaotic, unorganized nature of the event...totally stunned that all the hype was for the two second stroll the kids did wearing costumes.  Is there a PTA I can join, my americanness wanted to know...why is there no program or purpose when all these parents took time off of work to come see this?

Last year I couldn't get over how kids literally strutted one by one, runway-style on wobbly tables set up in the  school recess area.  Where are the helmets, my americanness cried out...this is not safe...not to mention the idea of a cat-walk for 5, 6, 7 year olds.    

But this year, I've got it down.  I knew it was going to mass chaos and parents would be pushing each other trying to get pictures.  I knew that the lack of organization/program of any sort would have kids acting crazy which would incite the teachers to yell.  I knew kids would step up to walk on flimsy, preschool tables jerry-rigged-attached so as to create a poor-man's runway.

And I caught myself, having a moment as I snapped pictures of this annual event, laughing at how all of that wasn't affecting me this year.  BECAUSE I KNEW IT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.  And that's the thing with expectations.  So because I didn't have any this year, I wasn't disappointed.  I enjoyed the event for what it was. I enjoyed it because I had the cutest cowboy and Indian on the eastern side of the Atlantic.  That's right, we went ahead and fulfilled all American stereotypes.   Except for me.  The stereo-typical american need for organization, a big budget, an exciting program, and a wow-factor...I let that go.  Maybe that's why this year, I had fun too!

You know that look:  When your child finally finds you in the sea of parents and chaos--you call his name, he searches the crowd recognizing your voice and then when he sees you his face lights up.  It's one of my favorite things about being a Mom.   

Christmas at Home Recap

Definition:  Jet-lag-hang-over, post Christmas-blues, hole-in-your-heart-feeling because we are so far away from our amazing, loving families

1.  Not leaving your house and/or wearing your pj's all day for two days in a row while attempting to clean out closets and get organized.  But at the end of a two day effort the house looks more UN-organized than ever and you feel slightly overwhelmed by it all.

2.  Dragging yourself out of your pj's on the third day to take your kids to school an hour and half late because you and your kids slept in.  And also writing the mandatory "please excuse" note to your daughter's teacher in English, because you just don't feel like making the effort to write it in French.  Whatever, your daughter is six and this is not Harvard.  

3.  Unable to stop thinking of the ten months that remain of our little life here in France.  With totally mixed emotions...pure joy when I think about returning "home" (mostly when I'm dealing with typically French frustrations--parking, grocery shopping, customer service, lack of good Mexican food) combined with pure sadness that this chapter in our life will be over, with the addition of pure stress/wonder/excitement over where in the world our next move will be.

All that to say, I've been having a difficult time jumping into January.  And here's why:  my parents made my dream of a "home for Christmas" holiday come true for the four of us and it was EVERYTHING I knew it would be.  And so as you look at these pictures of cousins and sisters and grandparents and SMILES, I hope you can understand why I'm still longing to live the last weeks of December!

My Dad who loves to play with his grandkids!  Bouncing at the bounce-house-place.

 Meeting baby Harry for the first time.  I could not get enough of this little, sweet man.

 All dressed up for Christmas Eve services--the three GIRL cousins.  Not pictures because we didn't even attempt it...the four three-year-old BOY cousins or the 3 month old baby Harry.  

 Christmas morning breakfast with everyone

 Tradition!!!!  PJ picture on the living room couch.  Eight cousins.

 Grandma H who drove 12 hours to see us for two days!!!  Soooo loved.

Grandpa H who gives the kids university tours and buys pizza for lunch (and also drove 12 hours to see us)!

My Grandma Dee who flew in from Arizona for Christmas--we made a scene and surprised her and Gramps at the airport in Columbus.

 More of my Dad playing with the kids.  Hot tub time!

My loving, generous Mom who made (financed) all this family-together-wonderfulness possible.  Lily's smile couldn't be bigger.


What a wonderful Christmas!  What a wonderful family!  What a wonderful Savior to celebrate!

Friends and Family

There is a saying, "You can choose your friends, but you can't choose your family."  But maybe it's not always true.

Living here, there is such a limited number of Americans.  And the group shrinks even more when you consider the people living here associated with the American military.  So when we arrived 2 years ago, and we met le petit group, we instantly became friends---in a way, we didn't have a choice.  We NEEDED them for help, advice, and gripe sessions over coffee where we could vent about all things French.

For the last two years, we've eaten lots of meals together, celebrated many kiddos birthdays, and pinch-hit babysat in times of desperate need.  I often say, I understand about "70%" of what is happening around me--and the best part of having each other to talk to is that usually (after lots of laughs where each of us share what we "know") we can figure out the other 30% of the story.  To understand completely, we need each other.

But this friend's tour here in the south of France is over.  And she and her family are leaving us to move onto the next big thing.  We had a little "farewell" party last night at our house for them --our petite group of Americans got together to wish them "au revoir".  There were about 10 of us.  And as I looked around the room I couldn't help but think--I didn't get to choose these friends....but after two years, they have become like family.

Man, I will miss them.     

Teachers Like Champagne Too

Last year, Lily had a great teacher. Lily loved Mme Nathalie. Mme Nathalie seemed to like Lily. And Mme Nathalie was somewhat sympathetic toward me and our situation here in France. Knowing that Zachary was going to be starting school this year, and REALLY wanting him to have Mme. Nathalie as his first teacher here in France, I decided to go all out for her end-of-the-school-year-teacher-gift last year. I got her 35 Euro bottle of champagne. I laughed out loud at myself as I wrapped it up and walked it to the school last year. What mother in America gives a preschool teacher a bottle of champagne as a gift??? But hey, champagne here is a classic gift and I did really appreciate all her efforts with Lily-and maybe sorta wanted to bribe her into taking Zachary in her class for this year.

Two months later, I had a one in three chance that Zachary would be in Mme Nathalie's class. At nine o'clock this morning, surrounded by impatient parents and fidgety three-year-olds, each of the three Maitresse(s) read the lists of names for the kids in their class. Guess who called Zachary's?  Mme Nathalie!!!

Was it the champagne? Was it just fate? We'll never know. But I smiled a big smile and again, laughed out loud at myself as I dropped him off in the classroom.  It took everything in me, but I did refrain myself from winking at Mme Nathalie!

Cheers to another school year!

Vacation-extended....

Back from the world of vacation....4 weeks, you say? THAT much vacation for someone who is CURRENTLY in the military? Welcome to life in France, my friends.

Before I post about our trip home, which was fabulous, I have to share some pictures from a week I spent on vacation in France. Since it will probably be the only time in my life this little dream of "a vacation after my vacation" will happen I wanted to document it right away.

Like every parent knows, a vacation with young kids which involves transcontinental flights, long and frequent road-trips, and constant (albeit great) extended-family activities is just plain exhausting! And as we drove back to our little corner of France a week ago, after experiencing all of this, I was nearly on the edge of a breakdown.

As Providence would have it, we were able to stay at our friends house in the French-countryside for five days before we could return to our own place (our Parisian renters/dogsitters wanted to have ONE more week of their own five week vacation at our house). Our friends' place is out in the country but still within driving distance to Phil's work---because sadly, he had to go back. READ: he did NOT get to experience "the vacation after the vacation", like I did. He's a saint and he never complains.

Anyway, our friends themselves were visiting the US and while it would have been great to have their huge chateau, with a pool to ourselves, what ended up being even better was sharing the house with the house-sitters who were already there. Turned out, they were a young couple who took a liking to our kids (as in, would play with them and entertain them) and he was chef, who enjoyed cooking every meal for us. Score!

So as I stumbled in the door Monday evening after our 6th roadtrip, (each one was over 9.5 hours) of the month, and smelled chicken cooking on the grill for us and watched the new friend take Lily's hand to pick fresh figs from the tree for dinner, I knew I had won the vacation-dream lottery.

And that's pretty much how it went.

I had five days of total relaxation... surrounded by vineyards and mountains and lavender. we spent hours and hours swimming in the pool, where Lily and I worked on perfecting our handstands.

We ate two deliciously, cooked meals a day, which I had NOTHING to do with.

I took naps with the kids, and read books with the kids and laid on the hammock on the porch.

I didn't wear makeup once, and in fact, I don't know if I washed my hair once (pool baths are totally acceptable right?). I didn't have to worry about the laundry in our suitcases, because the only things we needed to wear were bathing suits and t-shirts. And after happily sharing my kids 24/7 with all their Grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles, I was delighted to get some quality with them myself.

We're back in our place now. And thanks to the five day respite from my normal life, or any kind of life, the mountain of laundry, and suitcases filled with sand, and groceries to put away didn't overwhelm me. I'm thankful for every second of the four week vacation visiting family---but the last couple days for me in Provence were dreamy and vacation-like-to-the-enth (I mean, French)-degree .

Refined Thirst

For the first chapter of our lives, he drank Coca-cola out of cans, ages 12-22.

We got married, I did the grocery shopping, and he started drinking Diet Coke from cans.

He's always preferred bottled beer and scoffs at that stuff in cans...

But now, after a year and half in France, he swears that there is nothing more refreshing than a cold can of Perrier. "Can you please grab me a can of Perrier?" are words I never imagined myself hearing from him while setting the lunch table.

****This might only be funny to you if you have known Phil since the Coca cola days (ford escort, Johnny Cash and Lee Greenwood tapes, and a Carhart jacket). Anyway, we've come a long way.

Sweet Sweet Summertime

The first Friday of July. The first day of summer vacation. School is out! Let the lazy mornings and relaxed playtimes begin. We'll be at the beach if you need us!

It's a tough life having just graduated from kindergarten. I'm so proud of her.

Les Kermesses 2011

Or End-of-the-School-Year-Parties...

They're usually before the last, last day of school.

They're a way to raise money for the school.

The kids usually have some sort of dance/song (very likely with coordinating costumes) prepared to show the parents.

It's a social event for the parents usually taking up an entire evening or even a Saturday afternoon, with food and drink (champagne and wine, anyone?) and fun.

Zachary's and Lily's kermesse(s) were both last week. Zachary's event didn't follow all these school-party rules, but that's probably because his little "school" is basically glorified babysitting (his "classmates" are 6 months to three years old). But for the event, Zachary's school yard was turned into a little petting zoo, with small farm animals brought in for the kids to touch and feed. Goats, chickens, pigs, and bunnies- the little kids loved it.

Lily's event took place on Friday night. There were games set up for the kids to play (the fund raiser part) and then everyone settled in to watch each class perform their song and dance on stage.

As I watched Lily on stage, I had tears in my eyes (every Mom does, right). She was so full of confidence (where does she get that?), so elated to be in front of an audience, dancing her little heart out. Her class dressed up like cave-men, and for the ages of the kids, (3-5 year olds), it was an impressive effort.

After all the classes had performed, most families stayed around for the bbq dinner and social hour.

We brought our American grill and Phil volunteered to help cook the 400 sausages. Of course everyone was amazed at the size of the grill...to us (americans) it's nothing big at all...but you would have thought Phil was Bobby Flay the way they went on and about it. I think he like the attention. Oh, and did you know the drink of choice for men bbq-ing in France is pink champagne??? I had to take a picture of Phil "drinking with the boys". "When in Rome," he told me, shaking his head.

I kept having "Look How Far We've Come" moments during Lily's party. I distinctly remember going to Lily's kermesse at her old school last year---I went alone with the kids, no one talked to us, and I barely made it to the car before I burst into tears. Oh what a difference a year makes, and maybe a new school too. This year, we were right in the middle of the action, Phil chumming it up with the PTA moms as he bbq-ed, Lily running around all night long with her big group of friends, and me, totally relaxed, talking to other Moms about summer plans. We left late this year, (soooo many people to talk to), and my heart was happy and full, appreciating to the deepest levels feeling a sense of belonging. (That's right, Lily's in kindergarten, but my social skills and needs are still at a high school level :)

Where have I been?

Well, it's lots of things really...

1. I talked to a friend and got scared about having too much of my life on the internet...but really, it's sorta late now to do anything about it.

2. I'm struggling with extreme fatigue and a "I want to do nothing at all" attitude. It's my thyroid stuff. I'm sure there is a problem with the dosage of my medicine. Nearly every afternoon I CRASH and COLLAPSE on my couch for a nap. And it's a lot easier to sleep than to get up the nerve to call a doctor in French and then have an appointment in French and then be talked to like I'm an idiot (which is pretty much how most French doctors talk to people). My contribution to getting better is putting myself on a gluten-free diet (some people think there is a link between an allergy/intolerance and thyroid conditions). It's pretty miserable not being able to eat the best bread in the world.

3. We've been busy. Phil came home early from Libya (fantastic) because Lily had surgery to remove her adenoids and tonsils, and put tubes in her ears.

Just before that, my sisters came for a week long visit--it can probably be said that I've never smiled more in France than I did during those eight days. Pure sister-bliss--lunches at restaurants, walks along the beach, and furniture purchases (A TABLE!!!)...oh yeah, and a getaway to Paris for three days.

Before they came, I had three different groups of friends come and visit--April was B&B month at the Hoblets. All of this is good, happy stuff.

4. It continues to be busy. Now that it's summer time, and the cigales are singing all day long, and the French have come out of their winter hibernation pattern, we are invited to, and hosting BBQ's every weekend. Our social calendar is full. Last weekend was a three day weekend and we had lunch and dinner engagements for all three days in row. It was incredible. And fun.

5. Which brings me to this...I'm so happy here. We have friends, our kids have friends. We have come to understand the lifestyle, we aren't fighting it anymore. And it's fabulous. This is the most beautiful place I've ever lived. It's the most agreeable climate I can imagine. Right now, I'm sitting inside with all the doors and windows open enjoying the breeze coming through the house...no bugs (very, very few bugs), no humidity, and eighty-five degrees, but just if you're in the sun, which is ALWAYS shining.

So there you go. I haven't been writing as much because I'm worrying about weirdos looking at our lives online, or I'm sleeping...when I'm not doing either of those two things we're out having a lunch at our friends house...and when we're not doing that, I'm soaking it all in, falling more and more in love with the life here in southern France. How's that for an update---Sarah is happy! But I will try and write more often.

A Sunday Snapshot

What is culturally universal...

A church youth-group having a bbq after the Sunday service in order to raise money for a summer camp. Check.

And the food is surprisingly pretty close to the same too. Hot dogs, sausage, chicken and chips. Check.

Something I have NEVER experienced at a church family bbq put on by the youth-group in the US... a glass of wine to go with THAT hot dog.

I saw the sign,and had a great laugh, imagining all the elder meetings and discord something like this could bring to a church in the US. The French (like the French evangelicals) aren't like that so much when it comes to wine. And it's sorta refreshing...refreshing like a cool, crisp rosé!

Grocery Store Friends

The kids and I have just enjoyed a marathon weekend of food and friends. We had a lunch on Saturday with a family from Lily's school. Saturday night I was invited to a dinner at my friend's house--the friend who invites me to all the art museum outings. Sunday we had lunch at friends' house--friends who have adopted the kids and me as a part of their family. Right from there, we left to go to a couple's house for the "gouter" (the French snack in the afternoon). I didn't cook all weekend long! And while I was still lonely for my husband, it was very nice to have fun people to see and places to go, making the weekend pass quickly. And can you believe it, all these people were French...

So, do we know people here? Yes. Are we making friends? Yes. Are beginning to feel embraced by the locals? Yes. And you know what? It wasn't just this past weekend's busy social agenda that confirms all of this...

I passed my "move every three year" test: Running into someone at the grocery store. It's only Tuesday, and this has happened twice already. More importantly, more than just seeing someone I know in the grocery store, these French friends seemed genuinely happy, interested, and went out of their way to acknowledge me.

I love feeling like I belong!

Answered Prayer

This adventure of living in France has been one of the most difficult and challenging things we have ever done in our lives, so we are trying to keep a journal (like a real book and not just a blog) of ways we have seen God open and close doors for us, guide our decisions, and precisely answer specific prayers. He does this ALL the time, but during difficult moments of transition, Phil and I are more tuned-in to His leading and made much more aware of our utter dependence upon it.

We've been here a year and half. And as we look back at that small amount of time, we can see His hand and His perfect provision for us in every way. It's faith-building stuff. Stuff that I want to write down and keep for my kids so I can say, "Look at what He did for us in the past! Our God has always been faithful to our family. He is always with us. And we can trust Him with what is to come."

Voilà, the story of Julie. It was early in September 2010 and we were preparing for Phil's upcoming deployment with the French Navy. I was seriously stressing. This was the third deployment since we got married, and I knew what was coming. Crazy loneliness, twenty-four-seven parenting/disciplining/consoling, and all of the running-a-household-responsibility falling to me. But I could do that. I have done that before. However this time, on top of all of that, I was going to be, pretty much, alone--a foreigner in France struggling with the language. Combined with another big issue-- I was soooo far from family and my support system.

So Phil and I started talking and praying about finding a girl to live me with during his mission. I really, really wanted someone French. I wanted someone who could help me with the language, help me on the phone, and someone who would know the system, the way, French people do things. I was really praying for a miracle and telling everyone I knew what I was looking for.

Through our tiny church of twenty-some people, we found Julie-- the daughter of an American missionary couple there. She was born and raised in Toulon. A Franco-American! She went to college in the US and was finished with her classes and looking for a job. A real job. Not a "nanny" job. She was so overqualified for what my "job" entailed. But as soon as I heard her name, I prayed and prayed and prayed for weeks that she would come back to France and live with me during the deployment.

And God answered that prayer. At the last minute, having never met us, she agreed to come! She stayed with me and the kids through the four months of Phil's planned deployment. And even more recently, she so graciously agreed to come back for a little bit of Phil's unplanned, new deployment (to Libya).

I'm will never be able to express how much she means to me. She helps me the kids and they adore her. She is longsuffering and gentle as she corrects my French as we talk (about 40% in French and 60% in English). She helps me make doctor's appointments on the phone and sometimes I practice my little speech with her before calling someone myself. She helps me correct emails I'm trying to write in French. She explains to me vocabulary I don't understand. She does the dinner dishes while I'm upstairs doing the whole, exhausting, bath/pj's/teeth/stories/bed thing. She helps me find places when I'm lost in Toulon. She has become a very close friend, something I don't really have here--seeing me, and my kids, at our worst, and encouraging me with her sweet smile and kind words. She has talked me off of on-the-edge-of-seriously-losing-it-craziness. She is a gift to me.

And bigger than Julie...bigger than how much she's helped me and encouraged me...is the bigness of my God who ALWAYS gives me His best. Who ALWAYS meets my every need. I will look back for the rest of my life at this time, "Phil's Deployments While in France", and think of the Julie. The gracious answer to a very specific prayer for a specific need. I will say to Lily and Zack with confidence and faith..."Look, remember what God has done for us...Remember how He sent us Julie? He is good-- hearing and answering our prayers...and we can trust Him with everything."

Sunny with a Little Sadness

It's been only four weeks, and the home-coming-honeymoon isn't anywhere close to being over. The kids love making pancakes on Saturday mornings with their Daddy.

And on Saturday afternoons, I love having leisurely French lunches with rosé. We were just settling into a nice family rhythm again. But the party is coming to an abrupt end tomorrow...

Right now our bedroom is filled with suitcases and pieces of uniforms as Phil learned Friday that he will be leaving with his French ship to head to Libya Sunday. Great. How long, we don't know? We're guessing three to six weeks. But who knows, in general, the French public support for the mission seems to be lacking.

It's a sunny day in Southern France. But the deployment, or "depointment" (as Lily calls it) cloud looms large again in this house.

Bright Copper Kettles

So as I've been living here I've been accumulating a mental list of things that I would like to leave France with in our big move back to the US. Things that are quintessentially French--things that will "mean" so much more coming from this country with a story. Some of things are little--like these bullion cubes that I'm obsessed with here that makes everything delicious--and some of the things are big--like my dream French Provencal farm table. I'm a smart woman, and in order to maintain peace in my marriage, I gently, sweetly, try to verbalize some of the larger wish-list items on the list just so that if I would happen to stumble upon the item, Mr. Buyer's-Regret won't feel ambushed by my excitement and haste and begging for it.

Well as of today, I can scratch one of the "oh man, I'd love to have that from France," items off the list. I went to a consignment store in the area (think Goodwill, but without clothes), one that I frequent every month, and stumbled upon a set of copper pans.

Now, I've been coached here from an American friend, very much in the know with all things cool, about what makes a good-copper pot --the weight of the pot, the width in mm of the pure copper casing, the condition of the interior of the tin. The ones I was holding--35lbs worth of pan between all 6 of them, 3mm copper, and perfect tin lining. Check, check, check. I was most attracted to these because there are 6. All alike, brass handled, hammered copper, and a French-brand stamped on the side of each one. Jackpot!

I don't cook anywhere close to good enough to warrant the need for copper cookware. However, someday, I'd love to have them on display in a future kitchen of ours. They're classic.

The price was good. Not super cheap, but not over the "you must call and ask permission of your husband before you impulsively spend that much money" limit. And then after comparing my purchase to nearly the same set on ebay (except that set only has 5 pans), I'd say I got an outright steal! If someone wanted to buy them I could make double on what I paid! But they're not for sale, although I might still be convincing my husband of this. (He thought I was taking these pictures for Ebay). He's so funny.

Let the search for the table begin...