This week some other students arrived at the school. Our teacher told me that another family was coming, so I was excited that my kids would have some other kids to play with. Monday arrived and with it the new students— four women in their late forties/early fifties. They were having a girls trip to Sancerre. I didn't have the courage to ask which one of the four was the mom.
Obviously the school got it wrong.
They are lovely— but I think they were feeling a little sorry for me being here by myself with my boys. I wasn’t even sending out that crazed mom vibe. You know the one when you make some apologetic comment about your kids’ behavior and than add a little shrug or roll of the eyes, and then offer up a little self-conscious half laugh.
I haven’t really felt overwhelmed by my kids since I’ve been here and I made this choice, a mostly educated one. So, don’t feel sorry for me.
Their behavior was atrocious yesterday though. As I mentioned, the French don’t believe in ADHD. I read in an article previously that they think it’s a matter of bad American parenting. Friends, I think we have some converts!
The school scheduled our classes for two afternoons this week. Yeah- for those of you in the know, their meds wear off around 3pm. Monsters. I was so pissed. Any self restraint they had mustered due to being in a foreign country and speaking with people who speak very little english had totally disappeared. They were on chaos island and they were having a blast. People shushed them, I was casting threats about their iPods. No effect.
If you’re on FB with me, you already know how I handled it. We ended class a little early and headed back to the apartment with me grumbling at them the whole way about embarrassing behavior and self control— the same useless speech I give over and over again, apparently in a dog-whistle type voice that my children cannot even discern as human, let alone worthy of their attention. I set them up in front of a movie (in French- ha, ha, ha!) in the living room. I pulled a chair into the sterile kitchen— with an amazing view, btw— and plugged in my iPod, opened a bottle of wine and got out some great cheeses. Just a little mommy time out. Not feeling sorry for myself, just stepping away for a moment to regroup.
Class was in the morning again today, so all went well and we had a great day. Bennett’s French emerged today and it was really great. Yay! He did tell me he was homesick today and I asked him who he missed the most— he said, no mom I miss the house. Oh.
Cooper created his own clay hamster house today in art class, but since we’re going horseback riding Friday instead of the art show, he wanted to take it home tonight. I suggested we take a photo, rather than the actual house because we can’t really pack up a clay hamster house. No. He wants the house. It’s made of clay. It’s not hard and the thing weighs 8 lbs. It is going to cost me $50 due to overweight bags and it’s going to end up a ball of clay by the time we get home.
Samuel and I made it into the small church here in Sancerre. No ashes because they don’t have their own priest, but the church was open. We offered up a prayer for a holy Lent and enjoyed the statuary. I was really proud of Samuel today. We had another great walk around town and took a lot of pictures. Tried to read all of the historic markers but we wore each other out.
After dinner tonight I had a terribly upset stomach. I expected to have some troubles being in a foreign country. Of course when it happens, you start thinking—- oh, did I eat something bad? Well, my friends, everything I eat over here smells bad, so who the hell knows? Stinky cheese- yum. How do you know if it’s bad when it starts out with a moldy crust on it? Some tart with anchovies, tomatoes and kalamata olives- I don’t need to tell you that smelled bad- delicious. Ordered a croque-madame without the ham today— pretty sure it was a mayonnaise sandwich with cheese and a fried egg on top— what’s not to love? So in short, I have no idea what got into me, but I am feeling a bit better.
Tried to use it as a sympathy play with the boys to get them to go to bed nicely, but it was whack-a-mole tonight too. And they kept coming in to the bathroom to find me (my mother warned me that might happen— not about the trip, just motherhood). What is with them and bedtime? Any time we are not in our own home, hotels, mimi’s house, etc. they are crazy at bedtime!— advice? Other than hiding in bathroom until they fall asleep (because that doesn’t work either).
Homeschool tomorrow morning before French class. Bon chance!
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