Mom's Thoughts on France

Here's my mother all bundled up for the bitterly cold winds that whistle through our stone-and-concrete streets. She was nice enough to take some time and write down her impressions of her trip to France, which I will post over the next day or two in chapters. To kick things off:

As we began our journey to this foreign land, we packed heavy- very heavy, for this was after all a Christmas trip. We carried not only our personal needs, but also quite an assortment of gifts.

We were the Santa delivery service for Emily’s parents, all relatives, and friends.

Having never flown abroad before, we tried to prepare ourselves for the unexpected- assuming the worse scenario. Our main goal was to land safely in Paris, find our luggage and meet up with the kids at the appointed spot (that being McDonald’s, a familiar landmark to all) we accomplished this without difficulty and sure enough they appeared right on time.

Our babies were right there before our eyes. It’s an awesome feeling being picked up by your child and swung around. Then you notice that your baby has shades of gray in his beard.

Suddenly the 15-hour flight had caught up with me. My husband and I breathed a sigh, and realized that at this moment we were now the ones needing to be babied – to be hand held in public. How could a trip abroad have aged us so quickly?