Technology is my frenemy

Last week, on Remi's birthday, no less, I went into total panic.  I thought I had lost my new iPad mini.

My mom and sister generously gave me this during their trip here.  They wanted me to have it for taking high quality videos and some of the great educational apps Juliette could use.  And here, only a week after receiving it, I was tearing my apartment up looking for it.  Not in the living room or my car, not in my work bag.  Wait a minute, had I accidentally put it in my work bag with a file?  And hadn't I left my windows cracked in the car when I picked up Juliette because it was so very muggy?  And what if someone had rifled through my bag while I was inside getting her?

That's when the panic started.  Like a freefalling elevator ride in my stomach.  Was some stranger currently using my iPad and hacking into my account?  The thought of having lost this gift so soon was agonizing.  I called my sister's cell and she called me back.  Had I activated the "find my iPad" feature which would allow me to remotely make my iPad "ping" to help me locate it?  I couldn't remember.  Had I set a passcode?  No, and that would only prevent a thief from using it, not help me find it.

I called the US Apple helpline and a very sympathetic Latino voice said "I'm very sorry for you ma'am" (and she truly did sound sorry) but we can't help you locate it.  You can contact local police to file a report...".  Online I read about the "find my iPad" system.  The web page said a recent survey showed some people would rather be in a car accident than lose their iPad.  At that moment I could kind of understand.  The thought of someone else looking at my photos and videos and using my device made me rather queasy.

I went to bed and slept very poorly, having two "iPad- reunited and it feels so good" dreams.  There were dark circles under my eyes when I woke up.  Remi woke Juliette (he had helped me look for the darn thing the night before and even had to bear my accusation- albeit a valid suspicion- that he was playing a trick on me and hiding it) and asked her if she'd taken it.  I went to hug her and asked her the same but less gruffly.

-"Did you take mommy's iPad?"
-Sheepish smile from sleepy Juliette.
-"Where did you put it?"
-"Where did you put it?" more insistently.
-"In the bed where MameeLin and Jessy slept."

And in between the folded up cot mattress, there it was.  The green and white cover I thought I might never lay eyes on again.

The first thing I did was email my mom and Jess to tell them the iPad was NOT stolen or lost.  Then I forced myself to not use the thing much that morning.

You may find this story appalling or silly or both.  I can only tell you my fear was real.  My symptoms of anxiety were strong.  Of course, I was worried I'd lost a gift I'd just gotten, but in the short time I'd had it, I'd already grown attached to all I could do with it.  The coziness of having it on my lap to write an email or check out a website quickly.  The crystal clear videos and photos (btw, this is not an Apple-sponsored post!).

This was not my first brush with technology in its most addictive forms.  Even before I got a smartphone back in Decemember I had an iPod for music and email.  And even before that I was still one to do a ridiculous number of email checks and somehow feel my self-worth was tied up into how many emails or blog comments or Facebook likes or comments, I got.  I can't see things have changed that much.  Maybe now they're even worse.

It's hard for me to go a lunch alone at home without checking FB on my smart phone.  Why?  I don't know anymore.  This restless energy that pushes me to do something.  Whereas before I might watch the news of read a book or stare into space.

Today alone I started my day by checking my email on the iPad.  And texting my friend who was picking me up from work. And once at work using the desktop to check email and find videos for my students to watch.  And now at home to write a blog post.  Sometimes I feel my day is just made up of pings and pixels that amount to nothing.  Nothing concrete, at least.

What will they say of someone in our generation when we pass on to that other "virtual" world where, it would seem, there is no wifi or bluetooth?  Will they say, here she lies, a regular poster on Facebook and followed by 47 on her blog.  Not to mention a few videos on Youtube.  Is it a legacy if it's all on a computer screen? 

Sometimes I go out and do something and can't resist the urge to post about it after.  As if it's not legitimate if it's not mentioned in some online venue.  Then my experience is "tainted" because I realize at the time how I'm going to post it later.

I took the bus home today from my friend's house (just to save gas) and at one point forbade myself from using my smartphone for entertainment.  (And for a little enlightenment on how depriving yourself of your smartphone and experiencing boredom is good for you, I highly recommend this post.)  I forced myself to look at the scenery and describe it in story form.  And it felt good.  And real.  But if I blog and express myself, isn't that real, too?  When it's meaningful, it's real.  Be it on paper or on a screen. 

So maybe it's time to enforce a bit more distance between me and technology.  None after nine p.m.?  None between 9 and 12 a.m.?  Or just less is more?  Less posting on FB, more reading real books instead of status updates?  It's a strange and exciting world we live in.  

Heat and Miss

The heat.  I'm from Alabama so I know heat.  But once again I am surprised how hot and muggy Northern France can actually get.  Especially when there's no air conditioning.  We've had a hot spell for the last three weeks and though I'm really not complaining about the brilliant sun, the stickiness is not so pleasant.  My routine after waking up has been cracking the windows but keeping the blinds mostly closed.  Wearing light clothes is a given since my car only blows a bit of air on me and some companies I visit don't have a/c either.  We even put an umbrella up on the balcony to block some of the sun and some nights it's been too hot to eat out there! 

Luckily the hot sun has been useful for drying clothes while my dryer is OUT OF ORDER!  As I write this I'm waiting for the repairman and hoping there is nothing major wrong with it.  For all my recent railing about life without a dryer, I just can't go back to a no-dryer existence.  And I don't particularly want to fork out money on a new one considering the one we have is only three years old!

The miss is because a week ago my mom and sister left.  Two weeks went by too quickly, as I knew they would.  I feel they really connected with Juliette and it warms my heart to see her keeping a strong bond with her American family. I am also glad we were able to squeeze in so much fun with side trips and home projects and even a little kid birthday party for Juliette.  In the end I opted for a home party and judging by the kids' squeals, I think they enjoyed it.

And on her real birthday I made her a chocolate box cake that was so very moist!  And put her name on top, of course.

Five-year old Juliette is proving to be quite the spitfire.  As if she weren't already!  I've noticed she's been calling me "mom" or "mama" more instead of "mommy".  I figure it's from hearing my sister Jessy call my mom these names.

So for the time being we're just hanging out here, working (lightly), going to summer day care (in Juliette's case).  Summer languors on, punctuated by thunderstorms and trips to the park.   I'll try to finish some home projects (the perpetual "organize the house" goal that mom and Jess helped immensely with) and enjoy some down time. 

What are your summer plans?

Summer is...

Family time!

Sky meeting the umbrellas on the restaurant patio.

Serious fun on the beach.

Wondrous gazes at the zoo/park Pairi Daiza.  A real must see in Belgium.

Pampering!  With the fish pedicure also at Pairi Daiza. Five euros for fifteen minutes of fish cleaning off our dead skin!

Taking time to stop and appreciate the scenery.

As you can see, I've got my mom and sister here so am keeping blogging to a minimum.  Hope you all are having a great time too!

Delicious Days

When you live in my part of France (the North), you learn to drop everything and head outdoors when it's sunny and above 70 degrees Fahrenheit.  And though we've still been having a mixed bag in terms of weather, there have been some lovely days that inspired me to pack up Juliette and go to a park.

Such a peaceful moment at the duck pond.

Do you see the bunny-shaped cloud in the middle?  Reminds me of The Runaway Bunny book.

 

Making "cakes" with flower petals and such at the greenhouse.

Me getting a bit of sun on my legs in the fake turf outside of Ikea. 

 I took this one myself holding the camera backwards.  I'm near my favorite blue flower, lobelia.

I love peonies.  This one was outside Remi's grandfather's retirement home and smelled just divine!

Meanwhile the last month has brought two birthday parties from my North American pals' kids.  Juliette and I got to go to an indoor playground and a farm visit for these two parties.  Interesting thing we North American moms have noticed is that the French moms, with just two exceptions out of the say, ten invited for both parties, just leave their kids at the party and pick them up after.  It seems odd to us but I guess it's yet Another Cultural Difference we have discovered.  So now the question is what to do for Juliette's birthday as it falls in July when most people are on vacation.  Must put my thinking cap on.

Luckily work has been picking up and I've realized again that working makes me feel better.  I may not always be wild about teaching but for the most part I do like talking to my students and helping them discover things.  I certainly feel better at the end of  a day when I've worked a bit. 

My Juju is still a joy to me but there are times I'm not such a model parent and I lose my patience and yell more than I should.  Nearly five is still a bit far from the so-called Age of Reason (six or seven) and many a day she will whine about something that seems so insignifcant to me.  She'll make it her mantra (like, I want a doll, I want a doll....) until I want to scream and sometimes do .  Then she'll make up silly songs in her little voice and I just want to squeeze her and put some of that cuteness in a bottle and keep it forever. 

Ah, such is life but we keep on going.   And a sunny day does make it seem a little better.

Life goes on

I try to be the kind of person who keeps things in perspective, as you've seen from my blog before.  But like everybody, I can get bogged down in the details and thinking about what I don't have instead of what I have. 

So I'll just take a moment to go into bummer mode but then I'll pick myself back up again.  As you may remember from a while back, there was talk of us getting a house.  I didn't want to put a picture up because I didn't want to jinx things. Turns out that didn't really matter 'cause last week we learned the house deal didn't go through, 'cause the bank was skittish about Remi's company having some professional loans at the same time.  It's kind of a bummer because part of me had already projected us in the house and enjoying a garden.

But oh well.  There are definitely bigger tragedies out there.   I just had to turn on the news this week to see people who lost their homes in Oklahoma, or worse, lost family members. 

I will turn to new dreams, travelling, making my current home cozy and flowery.  And things will be ok. 

When I was a young teen my mom rented a movie called My Life as a Dog (watch out for some nudity in the trailer).  It was Swedish before Swedish was cool.  It was about a little boy missing his family and constantly saying, "it could be worse.  I could be that dog stuck up in a satellite who'll never come back to earth."  The quote became something of a catchphrase in our house, even to this day.  And it really should sum up things about life on earth. 

It could be worse, so cherish what you have.  Every day.  The little things like the warmth of the sun on your arm after days of rain.  Or seeing fuzzy ducklings at the pond.  Or my little girl's hugs. 

What are your standbys when life gets you down?

When I grow old

I would have said when I grow up, but I guess at 39 I already am grown up.  On the outside, at least.  Today I was in the pharmacy and heard a woman asking the pharmacist for directions.  I detected a slight accent and the way she'd say "OK" to confirm what the man said made me think she was an English speaker.  I left the store before her but waited a second or two outside to say hello as she came out (stalking, again, I know!).  In French I asked her what languages she spoke and when she said English and that she was American I told her I'd thought so! 

She had a youthful face with just a few laugh lines around the eyes, pleasant features and a nice neutral US accent.  Perhaps she was in her 50s but only her mid-length grey hair gave it away.  She was staying in France for 8 weeks and spoke nearly perfect French.  She would end up in Toulouse (the bottom of France) whereas my town is in the top.  She had a nice camera with her and was off to take pictures in our local fine arts museum.

And as I continued on my way on this nippy but sunny May morning, I had the strongest urge to follow her on her adventure or have ones like that myself.  Just calmly travelling along and snapping pictures.  It would be a nice way to retire.

And so as I continued my errands this Wednesday morning (still not much work this week), I made use of my smartphone to take some pictures around town.  My little mini-tour.

Hidden treasures: this glowing yellow courtyard behind imposing blue doors.

A closer look.

I staged this cobblestone picture with my foot.  But the dirty reality is that there is a cigarette butt in the picture.  And reality it is.  France even recently talked about tackling this problem because it's really polluting the soil and water table.

Rooftops and blue skies.

A cozy courtyard.

He's got his head in the clouds.

Now that's an inviting entry way!  Love wisteria, love blue doors.

Would love to bury my head in this flower bed of white myositis (I think) and tulips.

Hope you've enjoyed this little trip.  May you satisfy the wanderlust in your hearts today, be it on the other side of the world or in your own backyard.

Bringing up "Bi" babies

Bilingual, that is.  The other day my Canadian friend came over for a playdate with her two kids.  I met this family less than a year ago in the park when I heard them speaking English.  The kids' Sesame Street rain slickers showed me once again that they weren't from around here.  The first time her little girl came over, Remi and I gushed at how she sunk her plump little hands into Catki's fur and said "fluffy!" in her pipsqueak voice.  Juliette spoke English already of course, but it was funny to hear another little tike on our balcony saying things that were so typical of my language. 

But this time when the nearly five and three and a half year-olds stopped by to see Juliette, they tended to communicate in... French?!  The Canadian mom and I kept saying, "You guys, you all speak English, ya know?  You can speak English together!"  They eventually went back and forth, lingusitically speaking, playing hide and seek and saying "Ready or not, here I come!"  But this pre-school crowd spent a lot of time as if they were on their school recess playground, saying, "T'es vilain, toi!" (you're naughty!).

Afterwards I realized with a pinch of sadness that for our kids the opportunity to speak in English with other native speakers (or bilingual kids) wasn't the priority it was for the moms.  Whereas I will sometimes stalk other English speakers in the grocery store or watch mediocre TV just because I can get it in English, Juliette doesn't necessarily have the same burning desire.  And I am reminded that even though she can communicate perfectly with me in English and sometimes prefers her cartoons in English, she has TWO languages and TWO cultures.  Why should I imagine she will favor mine?

Our old pediatrician did say English would always hold a special place in her heart, as it is literally her mother tongue.  And the other day when I told her she had two languages, she said spontaneously she was only going to speak English.  Even at school, I asked?  Well, maybe a little French in school, she replied.  

The other day I read her  a book called J'ai deux pays dans mon coeur  ("I have two countries in my heart").  I said this was her case, with America and France.  She replied pragmatically that she had three countries in her tummy, Playmobil, Horsies and something else I can't remember.  I was too busy stifling my laughs. 

So I must once again accept that my little girl is her own person, with her own experiences which will shape her view of the world.  I will always be proud to have taught her English but I can't force anything on her.  And that's a lesson any mom, bilingual or not, can tell you.