En Route to Paris
8 a.m. Off to Paris! We are on the Chunnel!
11 p.m.: Whoah, what a day. It’s hard to describe Paris in a day like this. Navigating the Metro, walking the Paris streets in Les Halles, getting our apartment, finding our way through town — all before 2 p.m.
The afternoon was spent at the park, wandering through a beautiful cathedral, Sainte Eustache, walking the streets near Monmarte, stopping for Orangina and playing tag. We laughed and sang and played the day away. We found our apartment again after walking past the Louvre, laughing at a performer at the Muse D’Orsay and taking a walk by the Seine.
Tonight we ate baguette and walked over to the Eiffel Tower before heading up to the second floor then walking our way down by the twinkly lights. The tower was complete lit with gold lighting and as we stood there, was illuminated with twinkling lights at 10 p.m. sharp — I can’t ever get over the mixture of strong and delicate that is the Eiffel Tower.
Our apartment is beautiful and peaceful. It overlooks a busy crossroads and even now, at midnight, music is playing and people are filling the bars drinking and smoking.
We put a padlock on the bridge over the Seine today with “S2+2″ on it, and another one that said “Carter and Ava te aman Paris!” We kept the keys — a beautiful gesture. A beautiful day.
Although I couldn’t wait to eat in Paris again, the food I’ve had so far has just been mas o menos. Today I ate french fries (my nicoise was inedible), lemon sorbet and baguette and wine. Nothing was memorable.
Tomorrow I’m going to find the great palate of Paris.
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Sleepy and Happy
I can’t believe we slept 14 hours but we needed it for sure.
We got up at 1 p.m. and went to Wagamama near the Royal British Museum. It wasn’t as magical as I’d remembered but it was fun to be there again after thinking and talking about it so much.
We got “lost” on purpose, wandering streets and areas of London for hours. It was so much fun.
We saw Buckingham Palace and then took a taxi to Hamley’s toy shop where we stayed for hours.
After leaving there we headed up and down beautiful rainy Carmary area and stopped at a small corner pub. The kids played and we watched the world go by. It was magical.
We ended the night in an amazing Michelin 1 star rated southern Indian fish restaurant we stumbed on. The food and the night was such magic. Did I say magic?
Just before dinner we ate cupcakes from a beautiful bakery and met a guy wearing a Green Bay Packers sweater — total Londoner who knew US sports so well.
People couldn’t be nicer.
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Amazing Day
What an extraordinary day! We arrived in London, found a hotel and got ourselves all around on the Tube. The kids were so amazing. We ate fish and chips in a pub, rode the London Eye, took an old fashioned London taxi and wandered through SoHo all in a day.
Teh best part of the day was laughing our heads off at the pub. We are giddy and happy.
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In-Flight!
We are on the airplane!
Kids are fascinated with the TVs on their sick back, wearing their travel Snuggies and touching everything in sight. These are two excited 7-year-olds.
I’m still not yet in vacation mode. I need to find a hotel in London in the next few hours in-flight since Joan’s husband John was hospitalized — as of now, taxi-ing down the runway, we have nowhere to stay when we land in London.
I feel a lot of responsibility for everyone right now. The kids and Sherry and mom. I’m going to let it go, I’m praying for a smooth flight, sleeping children and a warm bed to stay in when we get to London.
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The Day We’ve Waiting For
Wikipedia, by 8 p.m. PST May 1
The news broke on Twitter, and as of this post, we’re still waiting for the President to address the world with the news that Osama bin Laden is dead. Eight years to the day after Bush’s “Mission Accomplished” banner, 10 years after the world’s heart broke on September 11, thousands of childless mothers from war. People are singing at the gates of the White House, “God Bless America” and our national anthem. I wish there was a “God Bless the Whole World’ anthem.
The news brings surges of emotion — for 9-11, for the pain, the loss, the great financial burden, the sadness — and then, relief, joy, “die motha flippa” type exhilaration.
Osama bin Laden is dead.
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Pinkie Toes
My son once wore nail polish. It was black, or maybe it was blue. I would only let his little 3-year-old tootsies be painted “boy” colors. And really, the only reason I let him get his toe nails painted was because his twin sister was getting hers painted, and, well, there you go. On another transgender moment in parenting, I once let him wear fairy wings, a pink princess dress and pink Fancy Nancy high heels too, but he ditched them before he could get to the grocery store, claiming, “Girl stuff can’t go in my car seat,” (dang fairy wings).
I’m pretty hard core about boy stuff being boy stuff and girl stuff being girl stuff. I’m sure it comes from raising my son in a same-sex household by two women and a twin sister; I’m particularly sensitive to making sure my Thing 1 is alllll boy.
JCrew got nailed today when Jenna, the company’s president and focus of their email marketing campaign, was photographed with her son painting his toenails bright neon pink. Conservative media went completely postal saying insane freak-o-matic things on-air, accusing JCrew of ““blatant propaganda celebrating transgendered children.” Transgendered children? What the smack are you talking about? Fox News went on to claim that the little boy would need therapy some day for his neon pink tootsies. And then I got mad.
There is little to celebrate about the painful acknowledgement of a transgendered child. And what the hell is in that nail polish that could make someone transgendered? Whatever it is, Glen Beck has been using too much of it. Or maybe I used too much of it and it made me fall in love with a woman — or wait, maybe not enough bright neon nail polish. That’s it! My mom didn’t paint my nails pink enough! That’s how I must have ended up with La Gringa. Oh, it’s so clear now.
I know a child who is transgender. The pain for the parents is unsurpassed. The sheer love for the child is a force of nature — they protect their son so passionately, working with therapists and family members to try to ease the pain for the child and themselves. The child, a boy, identifies as a girl. He always has. And let me tell you, it wasn’t damn nail polish that burdened this poor child’s soul. Being transgender is no joke. But neither is a mother’s love.
At some point, The Female Brain and The Male Brain should be compulsory reading for anyone that plans on representing themselves as media, conservative, liberal or trans-political. The chemistry of a human — from the love of lacy panties and pink nail polish to the soothing sound of crashing cars and jackhammers — is imbedded in who we are from long before our toes were painted. The sheer irresponsibility of the media to pounce on the sexual identification of a child, and in this case, a specific child named Beckett, is abhorrent. Shame on you.
I signed the petition in support of the ad. And, more importantly, I just bought the Tranny polish from Jcrew.com and will put it on every man and woman I know — to “celebrate” the beautiful, tortured transgender children among us.
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Side Gigs
