and then we made it:
not sure whose brilliant idea it was to bring a toddler and a preschooler to Europe, but we've done it. Things are mostly grand: the kids have enjoyed sampling new parks and playgrounds, and they've tolerated the art and monuments. I've walked along the Seine and made peace with Nutella. And I've only had to clean up puke in one patisserie.
We're in London now, where we have friends and a bigger hotel room--both welcome changes from our situation in Paris. It's such a privilege to be able to see these cities, where I'd never been before, and at the same time such a challenge to be out of our "natural habitat." Besides the puke, we've had one brief lost-child episode, one hand trapped in an elevator door, one on-train diaper blowout minus wipes, and more tearful exits from museums than I care to count. Lucky for me, I have a good sense of humor about crises and meltdowns (the kids' and my own)--I only hope I can say the same for all the innocent bystanders.
But do you know what? There have been some beautiful moments, too. The ones where we stretched our arms and our vision. The ones where we stepped outside our area of comfort and into an area unexpectedly playful and joyous. The ones where we spent uninterrupted days in each other's company. The ones where we saw that home is around every corner, wherever we make it--wherever we look and find it. Those are the moments I want to remember, and those are the reasons we travel.
We'll be back home next week. Until then, au revoir and cheerio.