La Mom - an American mom in Paris

Joyeux Halloween

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Sat, 31 Oct 2009 16:05:00 +0000

Halloween used to be my favorite holiday back in the States. It’s still my fave in Paris – but not for the crisp fall weather or imported candy corn.

It’s a chance to get an up-close-and-personal look at the best real estate in town.

Trick or treating involves begging strangers for sweets. Let’s just say that’s something the French don’t really appreciate.

So there’s only one solution.

Host a party in a private Parisian mansion where there’s all the doors you need – and more.

You know you’re celebrating Halloween in Paris when:

- Kids use Chloé shopping bags as trick-or-treat sacks

- Moms give out individually wrapped Hédiard chocolate squares because “that’s all I had in the house!”

- An army of nannies/au pairs dole out the candy when the children come knocking.

- Mommy’s “treat” while the kids OD on KitKats with Pierre Hermé macaroons washed down with a flute of champagne. The “trick” is to pry the Fries away from the portable crèpe stand manned by the household help.

Let me tell you, it feels like a long way from the pumpkin patch back home...

Rendez-Vous with the Electric Tampon

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 15:51:00 +0000

I was waiting to cross the street on Rue du Passy when I noticed a woman scrutinizing me. I felt almost naked.

Wait a minute, she had seen me naked.

“Do we know each other?” she asked.

What I wanted to say:

Mais oui, Madame, we know each other. In fact, you might even know me better than Big Cheese!

Does the Electric Tampon ring a bell?

Non? Well, let me refresh your memory.

I’m L’Americaine who came in for pelvic floor physical therapy after the French Fries did a number on the minou. You got right down to business, snapping on latex gloves.

“But you have no tonus!” you exclaimed. “Squeeeeeeze!” No tonus – no kidding. I can forget about trampolines or jump ropes anytime in the near future if I don’t want to be shopping for the French equivalent of Depends.

“But I can fix zat with a little beet of biofeedback,” you said. And out came what can only be described as an Electric Tampon. “It will give you leetle shocks that will improve the tonicité of your pelvic floor.”

Time out.

You’re going to stick THAT up THERE?

And crank up the voltage?

“Mais oui, madame.”

OK, I’ll be French about this and go for the Minou Makeover. As long as I can skip the Depends.

What I actually said:

“Ummm, maybe we saw each other at the Parc Monceau?”

Diary of a Working Mom

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 19:40:00 +0000

What a fun first few days back at work. Here's how hard La Mom worked:

Day 1:
Morning: Star spotting
Went to an outdoor café for a break with visiting clients from Canada. Then I saw Prince. And his bodyguards. And his big Mercedes. They were going to the Chanel fashion show at the Grand Palais. Everyone in the café was taking pictures with their cell phones. Of course I wanted to as well so I could broadcast it on Twitter, but I had to play it cool with the clients.

Afternoon: To Tweet Or Not To Tweet? That Is The Question.
Spent the afternoon in a meeting in the same building as the luxury apartment Prince was rumored to be staying in. The meeting room was (what I thought) across the courtyard from his majesty's apartment.

I couldn't keep my mind on work because I kept seeing a man in his Calvin's coming to the balcony to smoke and talk on his phone. Very important thoughts were running through my mind and none of it had to do with the business at hand!

Is it Prince? It kind of looks like him. Do I take a picture and tweet it? Would I be a brat for posting a picture to Twitter of Prince smoking in his underwear?

Yep, I'd be a brat and that would be a total invasion of Prince's privacy. That's where I drew the line and forgot about Prince (plus I had to start focusing on the meeting!)

PS - It wasn't Prince.

Day 2
Champagne. Wine. Lunch. Wine. Dessert. Wine.

Not much to say here. "Business" lunches tend to be wine tasting events in this city. The upside of coming back to the office a bit loopy is that my French improves tenfold. The downside is that my attention span decreases twentyfold.

Day 3
La Mom's Faux Pas

Lunch at Cojean with the colleagues for designer sandwiches and crème brulée for dessert. The crème brulée was packaged in a jar with a packet of éclats de caramel attached to sprinkle on top. Mmmmm.

I sprinkled and ate. Much to the horror of my colleagues.

"Faut-pas faire ça!" they all screamed and looked on in disgust.

My faux pas?

Instead of letting the sprinkles sit on the crème brulée for at least a minute to give the crème a burnt appearance, I dug right in. Big faux pas. Only in France do you get yelled at for not eating a crème brulée correctly.

Working in France is going to be fun. Hey wait, I didn't work too hard last week did I?

She works hard for the money

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 14:20:00 +0000

That’s right – La Mom is now La Working Mom! I’m back in the saddle after an extended maternity leave.

The good news? Dish from the French corporate world!

And I still have my regular mommy groups, so you won’t miss life in the expat lane.

The bad news? I’ll be posting just once a week.

Stay tuned for tales from the trenches as La Mom juggles a career, the French Fries, and a new nanny!

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Can’t Help Falling in Love

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 15:09:00 +0000

The birds and the bees start buzzing early here in France.

Maybe that explains how the French can go from surly to seductive faster than a car on the La Mans racetrack? It’s ingrained in them since birth.

In that case Big Fry's embracing his French roots, since he’s already engaged.

Here’s a rundown of our first conversation about l’amour:

Big Fry: Maman, when I grow up I want to marry you.

La Mom: Aw, sweetie, that’s nice. But what about Daddy? I’m already married to him.

Big Fry: Well, I guess I could marry Clémence. She’s my amoureux.

La Mom: Your amoureux?

Big Fry: You know, Maman, when you have an amoureux you fall on top of them them and then you get married.

La Mom to self: Fall on top of them?! I thought sex ed wasn’t until lycée!

Big Fry: Do you know how to say tomber amoureux in French?

La Mom: No, why don't you tell me.

Big Fry: It’s tomber amoureux!

Oh yeah, tomber amoureux means to fall in love. Although I guess several marriages do occur after the amoureux fall on top of each other.

What do they call that – Le Shotgun?

La Mom's Musique

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 08:24:00 +0000

Cute Frenchie alert!

What do old cars, beavers, and lollipops have in common?

They’re all a part of Cocoon’s “French Folk Touch” world. La Mom can’t get enough of this cutie-pie duo’s catchy melodies and pure harmonies.

Check out Cocoon’s hit single, Chupee, named after the ubiquitous Chupa Chup lollipops (Big Fry’s favorite!).

Does Cocoon have what it takes to win over American audiences? La Mom wants to know!

The Parc MOMceau

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 19:20:00 +0000

Did you hear the news? The Parc Monceau's name was changed to Parc MOMceau because it's the next best place for Paris fashion news after Elle and Vogue. It's the moms that make this park oh la la special!

Love those sexy stiletto boots in last week's Elle, but not sure how they'll hold up at the park? Head over to Parc MOMceau to see them in action. It's a safe bet that at least one, if not twenty-one moms at the park will be wearing them!

Don't have a subscription to Elle? That's OK - National Geographic is just as good for fashion news. In fact, join La Mom on a tour of the park to check out the Mommalia Fashionalius in their natural habitats. First stop:

The Snack Shack/Merry-Go-Round/Duck Pond
Native species: Mommalia Botoxfaketanalius

How to spot them: Aside from the frozen faces and fake tans, these moms are religious freaks. They doesn't leave home without a bible (Elle, Vogue, Grazia). See it peeking out of their handbags, stroller pouches, and diaper bags.

Signature accessory: A 7€ bag of popcorn from the snack shack for the kids to feed the ducks. Bringing leftover baguette isn't à la mode in this part of the park, it's all about conspicuous consumption.

The International School
Native species: Mommalia Moneybagsalius

How to spot them: They use the main entrance into the park as their personal runway with two fashion shows daily: 9am (drop-off) and 4:30pm (pick-up). Front row seats can be found at the benches across from the school's entrance.

Signature accessory: Anything with fur. Take the two moms I saw while jogging recently. At least I think they were moms. They were definitely twins. Both were dressed identically except for their hair color and handbags: Prada riding boots, leggings, long sleeve shirts, fur vests with matching fur headbands. Good thing PETA wasn't invited to the fashion show.

The Sandbox
Native Species: Mommalia Stilettus

How To Spot Them: These moms wear shoes that are totally unpractical for playing with the kids, building sandcastles, or pushing strollers; but very practical for a night on the town in the latest LBD from YSL.

Signature accessory: Stillettos (check out page 73 from last week's Elle)

The Grassy Knoll
Native Species: Mommalia Designercasualchicius

How To Spot Them: Sporting designer jeans (bought in the US because they're cheaper), Hogan sneakers, and tops from H&M and Zara. These moms aren't afraid to sweat in their designer duds. After all, looking fashionable is always important, but it's more important to be able to kick a ball around with your kids or bend over and have a picnic.

Signature accessory: The très chic Clorox Bleach Pen (also bought at home and in bulk at Target). It's hasn't been featured in Elle as one of this season's must-have accessories yet? Don't worry, by Christmas even the quintessential Parisian clothing boutique Colette will be stocking them!

Hamming it up with The Antiques Diva™

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 15 Sep 2009 17:00:00 +0000

The smell of ham mixed with hundreds-of-years-old antiques is in the air...It’s that time of year again when the Parisians' mouths begin to water in anticipation of France’s best brocante.

While in most countries “ham & antiques” isn't a natural combination, in France La Foire Nationale à la Brocante et aux Jambon is the country's largest antiques and gourmet food fair. It's back again this fall in the Parisian suburb of Ile de Chatou between September 25 – Oct 4, 2009.

La Mom recently had a chance to sit down with The Antiques Diva and chat about this fair, getting the inside scoop from Europe’s leading expert on Antique Shopping & Champagne!

La Mom: The National Fair of the Flea Market and Ham is held twice a year – in March & October. Can you tell La Mom readers why you think this is the best fair ever?

The Antiques Diva: What’s not to like? Ham and antique shopping in the shadow of the Tour Eiffel? Seriously, this traveling flea market is phenomenal. Over 800 vendors from toute la France bring the best assortment of antiques I have ever seen in one locale. As you said, it’s held twice a year – in the spring & fall - and The Antiques Diva™ offers flea market tours rain or shine!

What I love about this fair, aside from the plethora of antiques and an opportunity to eat ham like it’s going out of style, is that this market, like almost all French events, is a Parisian tradition dating back centuries! While I’ve always thought the odd combo of selling pork and antiques was a marketing ploy to get reluctant husbands to go brocanting, the fair’s origins date back to the Moyen Age.

La Mom:The Middle Ages? Are you kidding me? People have been antique shopping in France for that many years?

The Antiques Diva: It’s a great story. It started during the Middle Ages when, during Holy Week, pork butchers came to Paris to sell their products. One year an enterprising butcher decided that he wanted to “bring home more bacon” so he started selling not only braised ham but the equipment for making it as well, offering his clients “the taste of Chatou” (the Parisian suburb where the fair is held) all year round!

The other vendors caught on to the idea and started bringing more items, focusing on specialties from their region, namely furniture, pottery and antiques. Before they knew it, a festival celebrating both the flea market and ham was born.

La Mom: So we’ve got the Spring Brocante covered. But why does the fair occur in the Fall too if it originated in a Holy Week celebration?

The Antiques Diva: I’m not certain how this pre-Easter celebration became a twice annual event, but I have an un-substantiated theory. In August, tout Paris departs for their month-long vacation. This is another tradition which began in the Middle Ages when the stench from the annual cleaning of the Louvre’s moat forced citizens to flee until the gag-inducing cleaning was over.

I believe that when the Parisians fled to the countryside, they enjoyed the country life so much they didn’t want to return. Paris had to do something to repopulate itself, so they used the Foire aux Lards – as it was then called – as an olfactory pied-piper to lure les citoyens salivating back to Paris!

La Mom: Will the olfactory pied-pipers lure you back to Paris this year September 25– Oct 4?

The Antiques Diva: Indubitably! Though I no longer live in Paris (having moved to Amsterdam & then Berlin) I still return twice a year to shop at the world’s best flea market. And, in fact, I don’t shop alone... I lead tours of my favorite fair & favorite city!

Last minute readers can always sign up for a Fall Day Tour or, if you’re planning your Spring Travels to Paris, email me for French Flea Market Fair Details at toma@antiquesdiva.com. And if an email simply seems like too much commitment, visit my website to read The Invitation for this fall’s tour to get a feel for it & me, The Antiques Diva.

La Mom: Sign me up! Can you tell us about some of your purchases?

The Antiques Diva: A tour through my home finds souvenirs from Chatou in every room. From the €3 hand painted Russian tray hanging in my stairwell to the €1200 18th century berger in my salon, Ham Fair purchases dictate my décor.

In the winter I wear my €45 1950’s fox fur stole and dinner parties have me pulling out the set of €200 turn-of-the-century majolica knife rests where I sit my €75 early 20th century mother of pearl and sterling couteaux à poisson.

La Mom: Wow, the price range you’ve described is quite wide! From €3 up to €2000... is that normal?

The Antiques Diva: Prices at Chatou are not low, and sadly they aren’t as low as they were before the Euro. But in Chatou vendors expect to bargain. I always ask for a 30% discount and receive at least 20%. But if you hate bargaining, there is a magic question to softball pitch, “Est-ce que c'est votre meilleur prix?” Trust me, though the vendor might not “parler anglais” they will understand the question, “Is this your best price?” For those living in the Ile de France, the vendor will often include delivery in the purchase price.

La Mom: What if you live abroad? Will they still ship?

The Antiques Diva: For those unfortunate people like me who don’t live in Paris and have to travel to Chatou from afar the fair coordinators work with several shipping companies and they are happy to have things shipped to your homeland – for a cost!

La Mom: This has been a treat! One last question before we bid adieu... in my intro I mentioned you’re the foremost expert on European antique shopping & champagne. Can you find the latter at La Foire Nationale la Brocante et aux Jambon?

The Antiques Diva: Absolutely! In fact, that’s where you’ll find me, sipping champagne in the center aisle of the fair where all the food vendors have set up shop!

“Chin Chin!”

La Mom's Rentrée Diet

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 15:56:00 +0000

Most people get in shape for the summer, but that’s sooo not parisienne. With the social calendar gearing up as people come back from their holidays, I’ve got to shift the extra padding I put on in the States (merci, Krispy Kreme).

The only problem is re-finding my French will of steel after a month-long Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and Mexican food binge.

Here’s what my diet looks like so far:

Breakfast:

Double Nespresso shot, no sugar. (Caffeine should jump-start the metabolism.)

Organic muesli with plain organic yoghurt. (Très, très healthy. Drawback: tastes like wet cardboard. Found an actual twig in the muesli.)

Mid-morning snack:

3 squares of Lindt Coeur Fondant milk chocolate with gooey center. (I needed a pick-me-up. Chocolate’s good for the skin, right?)

Lunch:

Mixed salad greens with tabouleh. (Très healthy.)

Added half a pack of Société Roquefort cheese (Merde.)

Afternoon snack:

End-of-the season mirabelle plums (Très healthy and très délicieuse – but who am I kidding? It's really just an excuse to see Jean-Luc at the local market fruit stand.)

Dinner:

Congealed Kraft Mac’N’Cheese that the Fries didn’t finish (Gross on so many levels.)

Grapes (in the form of two glasses of Bordeaux – resveratrol is definitely good for the skin!)

Midnight snack:

The rest of the Lindt squares. (Whoops.)

French women don’t get fat – but this Américaine better watch it before her ass lops over the Métro seats!

What are your French-style diet tips? La Mom wants to know!

Dogged

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 19:24:00 +0000

France.

A country with a long history of promoting Les Droits de L'Homme (human rights.) Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité.

Yet even I was surprised to see human rights fly out the window when it comes to dogs. It seems dogs have more rights that children do. At least in the 16th arrondissement of Paris. Case in point:

The French Fries got a bucket of sidewalk chalk from the US over the summer. We put it to use last week on our street. My little Monet and Manet were having so much fun scribbling Eiffel Towers, cars, and les soleils (suns) when an older lady walked up and tried to put an end to it.

Madame: Excuse me, but you shouldn't let your kids draw on the sidewalk like that.

La Mom: Oh it's ok Madame. They're just crayons made for the sidewalk and will wash away the next time it rains.

Madame: Well it looks like graffiti.

La Mom: I'm sorry about that, but the crayons are made for children to use this way.

Madame: It's dirty and it brings down the standing of the street. We live in the 16th arrondissement after all.

La Mom: (insert Parisian shoulder shrug)

Madame: We're not dogs living in an HLM (public housing).

Did she say 'dogs'? Of course La Mom took the dog reference and ran with it!

La Mom: What would you prefer to do? Walk down the street and have to look at scribbles or dog poop? Scribbles don't stink and if you walk on the drawings, they won't ruin your shoes!

Madame: Dogs don't know any better, but you do and you shouldn't let your kids draw on the sidewalk.

La Mom: If you want to clean up the streets then start with dog owners. Dog merde is bringing down the standing of the 16th, not my kids!

Back to School Daze

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 07:15:00 +0000

Back to school
Back to books
Back to teachers’ dirty looks
‘Cause my accent’s lame
It’s such a shame
But don’t make my kid take the blame!

It’s la rentrée. Parisians slowly shuffle back to work and school after a long, lazy summer.

But according to his teacher, Big Fry brought back more than souvenirs from his vacation in the States. He also brought back – quelle horreur! – an American accent.

La Maitresse de Classe: Bonjour, Madame. Did you have a nice summer?

La Mom: Yes, it was great. We spent a lot of time in les Etats-Unis – it was really good for Big Fry’s English.

La Maitresse: Hmmm…I noticed his accent has – comment dire – deteriorated.

La Mom: Deteriorated? But he’s completely bilingual! He speaks both languages perfectly. He never mixes French and English up.

Big Fry: Bye, Maman. Don’t worry pour moi. Je suis big this year. Je passerai un good time at l’ecole!

Merde. It’s going to be a long school year.

Making A List & Checking It Twice

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 19:38:00 +0000

It's that time of year when you'll see French parents roaming the Carrefour and Auchan supermarket aisles with lists, lists, nothing but lists in their hands!

You can spot an expat parent a mile away because they roam the aisles with very confused and/or frustrated facial expressions. You can bet they're checking their lists twice to make sure they've understood everything.

A shopping list would be too easy, a to-do list too practical, and a Christmas wish-list too early.

It's the dreaded back-to-school supply list.

La Mom mom dreads this one the way Big Cheese dreads visiting the US for a month and having to drink American coffee which he calls jus de chaussettes - sock juice. Nice visual, huh?

I dread this list because it's way too technical for moi and I need a translator to help decode the items. The list isn't made up of easy French words like stylo (pen), papier (paper), feutres (ink pens). I have to learn a whole new vocabulary like rabat, godet, timbale, and plastifiée.

Here's a sample of some of the supplies on the list this year:

-1 pochette en carton, à rabat (24x32), 6 à 8 cm d'épaisseur minimum
(A carton pocket with rabbit. 6 to 8 cm required thickness?)

-1 box of paints, 12 godets, marque Lefranc-Bourgeois or Faber Castell
(Why can't Big Fry's school pick a brand of paint that every supermarket in France carries like Crayola? Must they require a brand that I have to hunt high and low for?)

-Chaussons rythmiques
(Rythmic slippers. Hmmm, what does a 5 year old need rythmic slippers for and where do you buy them? It sounds kinky, but then again I must be missing something in the translation.)

-1 box of 12 colored crayons dans une boîte métallique plate - marque Caran d'Ache
(Will Big Fry be sent home from school if he shows up with a box of 15 crayons in a cardboard box? Must there really be 12 crayons in a flat, metallic box, made by an obscure company sold at the Librairie that's a 25 minute walk from my apartment?)

So this was my third and final year of dealing with a French school supply list! Next year I'm taking control of the situation so it doesn't take control of me. My plan of action will be as follows:

1/ Scope out the local librairie or presse shop.
2/ Make friends with the manager (read: smile, flirt, and play up the foreign accent.)
3/ Show up with the supply list and say, "French is such a rich language with so many beautiful words, but these words are new ones even to me. What does this mean?"
4/ Stand back and watch my new little buddy do my work for me.

Voila!

La Mom's in the Market...

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 06:08:00 +0000

La Mom’s in the market for fresh summer fruit.

Market day is my favorite day, not so much for the sun-caressed cherries and nectarines straight from the French countryside.

It’s for the free samples.

From the mouth-watering Jean-Luc.

Like the season’s first Gariguette strawberries, Jean-Luc always surfaces at my favorite fruit stand sometime in early June. His smoldering eyes get me so flustered that my French flies straight out the window. At the beginning of the summer, I usually stammer something along the lines of “Moi want pêche now.”

But by the end of August, our conversations go a little something like this:

Jean-Luc: Bonjour, Madame. I have something special for you aujourd’hui. The most luscious melon you’ll ever taste. Venez, try a little.

La Mom: Mmmmm. It’s so juicy.

Jean-Luc: It’s in its prime. But attendez – the figs are even better. Let me open one for you.

La Mom: It’s divine!

Jean-Luc: There’s nothing better than a sun-ripened figue with just a touch of honey dribbled on top.

La Mom to self: Hang on – are we still talking about fruit here?

If anyone has any recipes involving 6 cantaloupes and 3 kilos of figs, let me know…

At the last market day, my eyes were bigger than my stomach.

Tanorexic

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 18:45:00 +0000

It's tanfest, that time when everyone in Paris comes back from their long summer vacations and competition begins for the best vacation tan.

I went to visit Big Fry's school to find out the teacher's name and bumped into "Tan-Sophie" (real name: Anne-Sophie), one of the French moms who looks tanorexic. Apparently, questioning someone's tan factor in this city is grounds for a full on tan-attack! Here's what went down:

La Mom: Hi there! How was your summer vacation?

(Sidebar: Note: you must ask this all important question at la rentrée. If you don't, it's considered impolite by the French.)

Tan-Sophie: Super! We spent a whole month in Sainte Maxime. Et toi? You don't look like you went on vacation at all. (Ouch! 1 point to Anne-So.)

La Mom: We went back to the US for a month then spent some time in Corsica. You, by the way, aren't very tan either for spending a month at the beach. (Rebound! Hit 'em where it hurts - the tan. 1 point for moi.)

Tan-Sophie: (Offended look on her face) Well I've been back in Paris for a week already! Of course I'm losing my tan. You know, le bronzage du sud (a southern tan) is orange and doesn't last very long. On the contrary, a tan from Brittany is far better because it's deeper, darker, and lasts a lot longer.

(Sidebar: Leave it to a Parisian to point out the fine differences between a Riviera and a Brittany tan.)

La Mom: Well I had no idea there are such important differences between southern and northern French tans.

Tan-Sophie: Excuse me for saying this, but you really should consider going a shade darker. You don't want your husband comparing you to tan French women do you? (2 points to Anne-Sophie for that snide remark.)

La Mom: You obviously didn't read the Journal du Dimanche while on vacation because if you had you would've seen the 2 PAGE ARTICLE on sun dangers and skin cancer. You know Anne-Sophie, those who don't tan seem to have fewer wrinkles in the long run. You may want to stop now before you reach the point of no return.

(5 points for La Mom! I just knew I'd be able to whip this out one day - I didn't expect it to be so soon.)

Hot for Teacher

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 16:09:00 +0000

Sing it with La Mom ~

I think of all the education that I missed.
But then my homework was never quite like this.
Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad, I'm hot for teacher.
I got it bad, so bad, I'm hot for teacher.

Oh oui, all the mommies were hot for our CPR teacher this morning.

Today's playgroup hostess had the fantastique idea of inviting le hottest doctor in Paris to give us a private CPR lesson while the kids played.

Before getting down to business, we shared a morning snack of café au lait and croissants with Dr. Hot.

(Sidebar: Actually, nobody ate their croissants. Everyone held them in their napkins because we were too busy chatting up the hot Doc to eat. Truth be told, nobody wanted to take the chance of having crossiant flakes stick to our lipstick unknowingly - hate when that happens!)

Then it was education time. The room fell silent the minute Dr. Hot stood up in front of everybody with his baby mannequin. He had us from the moment he said, "Cardiopulmonary".

(Sidebar: Can playgroups get any better than this? I get to see friends for two hours, let my French Fries run around someone else's apartment and mess it up, binge on delicious French pastries, and then to top it off - stare at the cutest doctor in Paris?)

When Dr. Hot came to see the moms individually to check on our CPR skills, I'll admit it (even if the other moms won't), I pretended not to get the hang of it just so I could hang out with him a few minutes longer. Then we all broke into little groups of two or three moms to practice our resuscitation techniques.

What we were really doing was going into cardiac arrest and plotting to ditch our current docs in order to see Dr. Hot every time our kids get sick! In fact, my group's conversation went something like this...

La Mom: Dr. Hot is such a cutie. We need to have monthly CPR refresher courses just so we can see him!

Seattle Mom: I'm going to check him out on Facebook to see if he's married.

Miami Mom: Maybe you should poke him and say thanks for today's class.

Seattle Mom: Great idea, I will poke him.

London Mom: Oh just admit it, what you really want is for him to poke you!
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Beg, Borrow, or...Make it Yourself?

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 14:01:00 +0000

Who says craft time is just for kids?

Hermès is thinking of the little people.

You know, us regular moms who lust after Kelly bags but can't rationalize spending half a year's worth of grocery money on a purse.

(That said, can't Big Cheese and the Fries live off of bread, water, and love for 6 months?)

Now you can get some of that Hermès style minus the financial sting with a paper version of their collier de chien bracelet.

Here's La Mom's Wednesday afternoon activity with the French Fries:

1) Download the template

2) Give the French Fries some paillettes (glitter) and paint pens

3) Glue it all together

4) Hit the next playdate with my personalized Hermès bracelet!

Click here to download your own craft for the day.

A vos ciseaux, Mesdames!

I'm Cheating...

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 20:11:00 +0000

On my hairdresser that is.

And one of the expat moms told him.

I've been seeing Michel, my Mane Man, since I was La Single Girl in Paris. He's been with me through all of the milestones in life. He massaged my scalp during a big break-up and gave me a new lease on life with a great cut and sexy highlights. He's been with me through the fun stuff like marriage and French Fries.

Yet over the last year, I've felt my love for him weaken. Maybe its's because he doesn't give me fabulous massages anymore while washing my hair. Or because he offers free manicures to some of my expat friends and not moi. Or maybe it's because I'm jealous of him kissing everyone's derrière but mine the minute they walk in the door. I only get a kiss on each cheek.

(Sidebar: The derrière kissing is endless: Claire Chazal (France's equivalent to Katie Couric), the US ambassador's wife, Barbara & Lauren Bush when they pass through town, Saudi princesses, French actresses... Message to Michel: La Mom needs some lovin' too OK?)

So I started an affair with another hairdresser. He's filling my needs in between visits to Michel. My love tank is full again. He gives my locks the love and attention they need while shamelessly flirting with me and making me feel oh-so beautiful. Wouldn't you cheat too under these conditions?

Last week, my friend Jennifer happily informed Michel (then bragged to me about it) that I was cheating on him. Can you believe it? After all, I was the one who introduced her to Michel after she moved here from Dubai and was fed up with flying back to her old hairdresser there every 6 weeks.

(Sidebar: Honestly, I think her "hair appointments" were just an excuse to do some Duty Free shopping back in Dubai where her favorite designers were 30%cheaper than in Paris.)

So when I popped in to see Michel yesterday I told him that my four month absence in his salon was due to a long visit to the US. Michel winked at me and said, "Oh La Mom, you are lye-ing. Zjennifer 'as told me zat you are coiffing your 'air zomewhere else, you petite coquine."

Red face. Watery eyes. I almost cried! He knew I'd cheated and would shave me bald as punishment!

"But eet ees OK, I knew eet and I also knew zat you would come back to me zooner or later chérie."

Eh oui, I guess the French are so used to their spouses and lovers cheating so it's perfectly natural to assume your hair client will too!

It's Official...

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 18:37:00 +0000

(Photo courtesy of Le Journal du Dimanche)

France's Sunday newspaper, Le Journal du Dimanche
confirmed something that I've been thinking for years, with this front page headline:

FRANCE IGNORES SUN DANGER

The headline and two page article about skin cancer increasing and how the French are ignorant when it comes to protecting themselves from the sun was like having a big present wrapped with a beautiful ribbon dropped into my lap!

I just know I'll be refering to this newspaper article for...the rest of my life in France!

You see, La Mom and her expat friends have been on the receiving end of far too many smarty remarks about how ridiculous we are protecting our kids from the sun.

And then there's the passive-agressive approach witnessed by Texas Mom. Her kids just spent a month on vacation with grand-maman in Cannes. When Texas Mom picked them up, not only were their faces dark brown, but their noses and eyelids were still sunburned! While emptying their suitcase she found the bottle of SPF 50 pediatric sunblock she packed unopened and in it's original packaging.

French Mother-in-Law: 1, Texas Mom: 0. Can you say 'what the heck' in French?

Tanning is a national sport here. At la rentrée, when people come back from their long summer vacations, Paris turns into one big tanfest. Everyone - granparents, the local butcher, the newspaper kiosk salesman, French poodles, and even small children are all competing to hear, "Oh la la! What a nice tan you have!" The deeper and darker, the better.

So I've decided to do my part to help educate zee French! I'm going to photocopy this article and give it to all of my expat friends to whip out when we hear comments from the Frenchies like these every summer:

Why doesn't she just dress them in winter coats to go swimming."
(Muttered behind my back as I was dressing the French Fries in UV protectant swim shirts)

"You never let the kids do anything. Why can't they play in the sandbox? It's hot outside."
(Of course it's hot, it's 1PM and the sandbox has zero shade, why would I let them go out there even with sunblock on?)

"Why do you waste so much time putting sunblock on them? They don't need it. They're white, some color is what they need!"

"A tan is a sign of social standing. It's shows everyone that you've been on vacation."

"What do they need hats for? The sun is out, it's not raining."
(My point exactly)

And my favorite comment of all courtesy of my very own Big Cheese,

"Lay off the sunblock! I'm sick of being the only one who has kids coming back from vacation white!"

Looks like I have a long road ahead of moi, but education begins at home right?

Secrets

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Fri, 07 Aug 2009 20:25:00 +0000

ORIGINALLY POSTED OCTOBER 1, 2008

=======================================
What doctor does every mom in Paris have on her speed dial?

Dr. Hot of the American Hospital? Probably.

The pediatrician? Maybe.

The dermatologist? Possibly.

The phlebologist? Definitely!

A phlebologist is a doctor who specializes in veins and their diseases. Basically, a Vein Repair Man. I just call mine Dr. Vein.

Dr. Vein has become my new best friend since my hairstylist, manicurist, massage therapist, life coach, facialist, and personal trainer. I see her more than I see Big Cheese at the moment because she's saving my legs from looking like walking spider webs. Can't have a walking spider web on the beaches of Saint Tropez!

What does Dr. Vein do?

She spends a great deal of time inspecting my legs for red, purple and blue spider veins as a result of my pregnancies. She shoots them full of a solution and then traces over them with a laser in order to make them shrink and eventually disappear. My legs are on their way to looking 18 again!

In fact, having a phlebologist seems to be every expat mom’s little secret in Paris.

When you see that gorgeous mommy strutting up the main alley at the Park Monceau like it’s her own personal runway and you ask her how in the world her 36 year-old legs look so beautiful after having 3 kids, and she replies, “Sweetie, it must be all the walking I do around Paris that keeps them in shape!” Well, you know, she’s lying. She’s got the phlebologist’s number on speed dial in her Vertu diamond-encrusted cell phone tucked far way into her Chanel purse.

And she’s not going to share it with you!

It’s only when you start visiting your phlebologist on a regular basis and run into several moms from your playgroup and the park that you realize everyone’s doing it, but they just don’t want you to know they’re doing it.

Cheesy Porn

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 18:27:00 +0000

The French love cheese. And the French love beautiful women.

What better way to combine the two than with this "cheese pin-up" calendar?

You know you're in France when you're greeted by Mademoiselle Emma and her Tomme de Savoie in the bathroom of your favorite bistro.

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Bisous,

La Mom

The Queen Marie-Antoinette Mommy

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 05:40:00 +0000

Don't we all know somebody who acts like a queen?

Somebody who arrives at a picnic and hisses, "Let them (the nannies) eat peanut butter & jelly sandwiches! The hotel chicken wings, fries, goat cheese salad, lemon pie and pastries are for us."

Sounds like a French queen who supposedly said "Let them eat cake" when told the peasants were starving because they had no bread.

What happened to her? She was guillotined for her uppety behavior.

Profile du Jour: The Queen Marie-Antoinette Mommy

Uniform: Kitten heels (très practical for chasing the kids around the sandbox) and a Louis Vuitton Mezzo Bag (THE bag to have for all your park supplies: bubbles, balls, sandbox toys, snacks, sunblock, Evian water).

Hangout: The Chateau of Versailles of course! A weekend walk in the garden is all Marie-An needs to get away from it all. Plus a tour of the palace so she can be "inspired" when redecorating her living room (for the 4th time).

How To Spot Her: Marie-An has two kids, but you'll never see her with both at the same time, "I just can deal with deux! I want someone to cut my head off when I'm with them both." She's the one who's nanny plays on the other side of the park with one kid, then drops off the first and picks up the second to take back to the other side of the park to play. Repeat.

Profession: Queen. Being the daughter of Le Big Boss of the grandest hotel in France has it's privileges. Marie-An considers herself Queen of everything and rules her subjects (i.e. the hotel staff) with an iron fist.

Natural Habitat: 5-Star hotel suites, gyms, spas, and jewelry stores around the world.

Vacations: Hong Kong, Rome, Madrid, New York. Prefers to vacation sans enfants and has been overheard saying to the moms at dinner, "What's the point of going to New York if I have to take the kids to the park everyday?"

Children's Names: Boys - Louis, Joseph; Girls - Charlotte, Therese.

La Mom does L'Amérique

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 12:14:00 +0000

La Mom is heading back to the homeland for summer break. I’m going to enjoy some real sunshine (au revoir, Gray Paree!), catch up with family and friends, and give the French Fries a crash course in American culture. I always seem to slip back into old familiar ways pretty quickly – until I do something Frenchy like eat pizza with a knife and fork.

Keep checking in over the next few weeks for new posts and La Mom Classics!

You know you’re back in the States when…

…No one makes fun of your accent.

…McDonald’s doesn’t serve San Pellegrino or Strawberry Crumble Sundaes with a touch of mint.

…Big Cheese asks why people wear pajamas (translation: track suits) to the mall.

…there are 3000 different kinds of cereal at the grocery store.

…cheese looks like bars of soap.

…people look at you weirdly when you ask for a glass of wine in a “family restaurant”.

…everyone is so gosh-darn friendly!

…flip-flops are appropriate footwear for an evening out.

…EVERYTHING (and I mean everything) is super-sized.

…Iced tea is neither carbonated nor comes in cans.

…the guy at the passport checkpoint says “welcome home”.

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Which Parc Monceau mommy is a long lost relative of one of France's most famous queens? Check back Friday to find out!

The Gr8 Escape

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 05:07:00 +0000

Some people have problems like losing their jobs in a bad economy and facing foreclosure on their homes while their marriages disintegrate.

And some people have *real* problems like how to smuggle their illegal alien nanny on vacation to Italy with them for two weeks.

During the G8 summit.

When security at the Italian border is beefed up molto grande.

Florida Mom was in a pickle recently as she tried to figure out a plan for her nanny's great escape into Italy from France.

Since the nanny doesn't have legal work or resident papers, she couldn't take a plane or train and face passport control. That left only one option: smuggling her into Italy by car from the south of France. You see, any other time of the year this would be no problem, but before the G8 summit the Italian police were going to make Florida Mom's life a little difficult by increasing security checks at the border.

Florida Mom: So we've figured out how we're going to get the nanny out of France! We're going to drive to the south and when we get to the border we're going to make her hide under a blanket with the kid's toys piled up on top of her!

La Mom: Oh my god, what are you going to do if you get caught nanny smuggling?

Florida Mom: We're just hoping that border patrol won't peek into the back seat of the car and start poking around and find her. Hopefully the kids will keep quiet too.

Maine Mom: What will you do if your nanny gets caught?

Florida Mom: We're not going to tell her the plan until right before we get to the border and if she gets caught we're just going to leave her with the police.

Maine Mom: Florida Mom, that's a horrible thing to do!

Florida Mom: No, what's horrible is that if she gets caught then I'm out of a nanny and on my own with the kids for two weeks. THAT'S HORRIBLE!

Update - I guess Florida Mom & her nanny made it safely across the border. Nothing's been reported since the G8 summit of nanny smugglers being held by the Italian or French police. Luckily for her she won't have to be alone with her kids for a month.
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La Mom will not be blogging next week. Vacation starts! Rendez-vous the last week of July. A bientôt!

Let's Celebrate France

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 11:54:00 +0000

It's July 14th - Bastille Day in France. Here are 14 things La Mom loves about France:

1. Croissants
2. Wine
3. Champagne
4. Daddy Sarkozy
5. The Côte d'Azur
6. Big Cheese and my French Fries
7. Paris
8. All those holidays
9. Cheese
10. Cafés
11. Food
12. Post-baby pelvic floor re-education
13. Nationalized health care
14. The French!

Et vous? What do you love about France?

International Relations: G8 Breakdown

Lamom.paris@gmail.com (La Mom) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 11:22:00 +0000

When in France, do as the French.

President Obama knows the value of international relations. He's really getting into French culture as he checks out the rear view of junior G8 delegate Mayora Tavares.

Obama: Whoa, I'd like to sign a treaty with that one!

Sarko: Oui, she ees not bad. But Carla 'as more, how you say – “junk in zee trunk". Ecoute, I take you to St. Tropez to see ze real belles, d’accord?

Obama: Well, if it's official state business, d'accord.