Home Sweet Home… well, not really.

On our way home from Barcelona, as we got closer and closer to our villa in Juan les Pin, I felt a heaviness come over me, a slight depression feeling really.  At the risk of sounding snobby, I have to admit, I really don’t like living in the South of France.  I know, I know, it all sounds so luxurious… sun bathing on the French Riviera beaches, French rose wine, frolicking among the lavender and sunflower fields, bike rides along the cote d’azur, listening to people speak the beautiful romantic French language, devouring French delicacies on our villa apartment terrace overlooking the mountains and the Mediterranean sea.  Well, here’s our lives right now from a different perspective… the beaches are so crowded you can barely find a square inch of sand to claim for yourself, the ocean water is cold and crowded most of the time, I can’t drink any French rose right now because I am pregnant, usually we see lavender and sunflower fields only as we fly by them on the highway in a car and can’t stop to play in them or even take a photo, the French language is so hard to learn for me I can’t communicate with anyone here to save my life, the French people around here are very rude, the streets are so small and crowded with cars that bike rides are actually quite stressful and dangerous especially with a pregnant woman who is quickly loosing my sence of balance on a road bike carrying a 30 lb toddler on the back, and… well… I guess it isn't all bad... the dinners on our terrace CAN be quite nice.  Too bad I can’t enjoy any of the wine Daddy G drinks each night nor can I enjoy any of the most popular delicious Mediterranean dishes due to lack of pasteurization and the risk of listeria and toxoplasmosis in pregnancy.

Sigh.  I always feel guilty after a flood of negativity like the paragraph above.  I usually try to keep my negative thoughts to myself only allowing them to detonate when I can finally truly laugh about the whole situation.  Maybe a small part of me believes in instant karma, so I feel a strong urge to quickly convert any pessimistic attitude to cheerful, positive, bright.  I should be grateful for these experiences and I am.  Despite my frustration with the French language and French people, I am learning and so is Alexa.  To compliment Alexa’s growing English language vocabulary, she understands quite a bit of French and Spanish and can count to 10 in both languages and to 20 in English.  She says, “Merci”, “Gracias”, “Grazie”, “Adios”, “A bientot”, “Hola”, “Au revoir”, “Bonjour”, “Hello”, “Hi”, “Ciao”, "Bye" and “Bonne journee” perfectly.  Just about every day over here is something new and different for Alexa and for me.  And the access via road trip to so many amazing places near to here is absolutely amazing.  We are truly blessed.  And let’s face it, even if I can’t enjoy any of the wines over here this time, the olives, croissants and cappuccinos are to die for.

"Three Days in Rome"

Wait, isn’t that a Sheryl Crow song “Three Days in Rome”?  I meant, “Three Days in Barcelona”… excuse me, Bar-the-lona.  Once again, little A and I tagged along on one of G’s business trips for the adventure.  George and I have experienced Barcelona many times before and LOVE it there, but Alexa has never been to Spain… so off we went.  Alexa is becoming a super star road trip queen.  6+ hours in the car and barely a peep.  I wonder how many times she can watch “Finding Nemo”, “Happy Feet”, “Barney”, “Dora” and “Go Diego Go” before she has a mental breakdown… or before I have one.  Day one, while G was working at MB92, Alexa and I decided to explore the Barcelona Aquarium.  Now, anyone who knows me knows I do not agree with any animal “parks” used for human entertainment.  Zoos, animal circuses, and marine style parks with Orcas and Dolphins included, but rescue/rehabilitation animal parks and open water aquariums do seem okay to me.  I mean, in open water access aquariums on the coast the fish and sharks have the freedom to leave the aquarium if they so choose to, right?  Well, sadly, Alexa and I discovered most, if not all, of the Barcelona aquarium tanks are enclosed and quite small and none of the fish are there due to rescue and rehabilitation efforts.  And worst of all, they have a small enclosure with Humbolt penguins.  They might not be the exact same penguins we’ve been watching over and over in Happy Feet, the Emperor and Adelie penguins, but to us PENGUINS ARE PENGUINS!  SENTIENT ANIMALS WITH FEELINGS AND THEY BELONG IN THE WILD WITH THEIR FAMILIES!  At least they had some animal-free educational attractions for the kids as well.

After our L’aquarium experience, we cautiously absorbed entertainment of Las Ramblas, ate tapas and paella, played in the Olympic Park, enjoyed the Magic Fountain of Montjuic, chased pigeons, visited Gaudi’s Cathedral, Mommy experienced some inspiring moments at the Museu Nacional D'art de Catalunya, and we took the open-top tour bus all around the city.

Oddly enough, in the land of “good coffee”, Starbucks litters the streets of Barcelona.  I considered getting a venti half calf soy latte or a venti decaf iced soy latte or even going crazy and getting a frapaccino, but ultimately I avoided the temptation to cave into my state-side addiction.

The trip home was uneventful except for our mid trip petrol, toilet and food stop.  We somehow wound up inside of a “McDeath” aka McDonnalds.  I have to admit, I honestly haven’t stepped foot inside a McDonnalds in so many years I have no idea when the last time was.  Easily over 12 years ago, so I really don’t have anything to compare this experience with, but when did McDeath start doing everything on computers?  You walk in and instead of ordering your food from a counter person, you go to a computer booth set up in the center of the restaurant like the e-ticket machines at the airport, stick in your credit card and punch in your own order.  Not that it is a bad thing, just something else new to experience.  While G waited for our nasty so called food, Alexa and I decided to play in the germ infested play area.  There were no slides, no obstacle coarse, no basket of balls to slide into like I remembered from my childhood.  Instead there was a cartoon about chickens in French playing and a game where you had to match the animal with the “food” humans use the animal for.  I have to admit, it was disturbing.  We left with our pile of greasy pomme frites and 10 day old sliced apples and grapes and jumped back into the car to drive the last three hours back to Juan les Pin.

Jours à Monaco

The fish pedicure, one of the new attractions at the summer carnival at Port Hercule in Monaco, caught my eye only as we were heading back to the train with an exhausted 2 year old.  While Daddy G worked on some of the yachts in the port this morning, Alexa and I spend hours jumping on trampolines (3 euros for 10 minutes of jump time), riding carousels, running around blow-up fun houses, riding Nemo-themed plastic log boats, painting a carnival mask and “fishing” for plastic ducks.  Although most of the people in the French Riviera are… well… to be quite blunt, assholes to children and adults alike, this area is full of childhood entertainment.  Numerous parks and playgrounds are scattered along the coast from Cannes to Gulf Juan to Juan les Pins to Antibes to Monaco and on in to Italy.  Carousels are common, bumper cars, paid trampolines and plastic bubble enclosures where you run around inside while floating on water are very popular.  Water rollercoasters, paddle boats, parasailing, air hockey and arcades are all quite common as well.  And if you can squeeze yourself onto a tiny spot on one of the Mediterranean’s public beaches, you can enjoy swimming in the clear, cool, gold flecked ocean with all the other hundreds of European travelers.  Or, if you don’t want to fight for a space on the sand, you can pay 40 Euro for a beach chair at one of the adorable French bistro’s on the la playa.  Ha!  Let me put that in perspective for you… 40 Euro is about $60 USD.  And once you rent a beach chair, you are required to purchase all your water and food from their place too.  A day at the beach on the French Riviera for a couple or a family can easily run you 200+ Euro if you are not careful.  But the fish… the fish pedicure at the summer carnival at Port Hercule in Monaco, is only a mere 10 Euro, I believe.  Some people claim the fish in these fish pedicure tanks transfer diseases from one person’s foot to the next.  Some remind us that the fish pee and poo inside these tanks we stick our feet in to be “cleaned”.  Some claim it is the most sanitizing way to get a pedicure and their feet have never been smoother.  Some believe the fish pedicure is animal cruelty.  I think Alexa and I will head back over to Monaco this week to investigate this fish pedicure a little further for ourselves.

le Quatorze Juillet

My morning began on facebook newsfeed greeted by a quote posted by someone close to me… "There comes a time in your life, when you walk away from all the drama and people who create it. You surround yourself with people who make you laugh. Forget the bad, and focus on the good. Love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living."

This quote is so true in so many ways.  I distinctly remember making a conscious decision at 24 years old to forget the bad and focus on the good.  To let go of all my childhood hurt and pain.  To forgive and forget and move into a new realm of lifelong possessiveness.  Then a few years later, I made a conscious decision to walk away from drama and people who create it.  I love the people who treat me right and pray for the ones who don’t.  LIFE IS TOO SHORT TO BE ANYTHING BUT HAPPY.  Falling down is a part of life, getting back up IS LIVING!!!

FYI, I posted some recent updates on: http://ourpregnancymindbodyspirit.blogspot.com/  if you are interested.  Enjoy!