5 x 0 = 0

One of the most memorable lines from my mother's visit to Paris came from my husband's mouth. My mother was reading out-loud from one of those pregnancy books looking for facts to back her apartment remodeling agenda.  "Ahh ha!" she cried, "Here it says that a woman's nesting instinct is multiplied by a five during pregnancy. Mary, are you sure that you don't want to sort through the junk in the living room closet? Mathematically speaking you should be jumping at the chance!".

To this my dear husband says, "Yes Debbie, but five times zero still equals zero!"

It is true, for the time being I do not feel the slightest increase in desire to scrub our apartment with a toothbrush, alphabetize our piles of magazines or sort through my sock drawer. Maybe that will kick in later. If I play my cards right, it will kick in when I am too big to move and can simply art direct from the comfort of my couch.

While I have not felt the urge to clean I have had a very strong desire to create... stuffed animals out of old shrunken sweaters to be specific. That must mean something! Here is a picture of an octopus, an owl and a robot that I recently finished.

Vocabulary Lesson Part IV

We Americans are enthusiastic by nature. This fact is evident when you hear us describe things; our everyday vocabulary is bursting at the seams with adjectives and exclamation points! How am I doing today? I am great, fantastic, wonderful. What do I think of this quiche? Oh I think it is delicious, amazing, out of this world.  Do I like this music? Like it? I love it! I think this music is rockin-awesome! As you can see, when the adjectives in the dictionary no longer suffice, we don't hesitate to combine and invent even bigger better ways of expressing ourselves, rockin-awesome being a case in point.

In contrast, the French refrain from the casual use of adjectives to protect these precious words from loosing their impact when they are employed. Cautious use of positive adjectives and measured enthusiasm are two things that take getting used to as an American in France. We easily mistake their lack of enthusiasm for snobbery or indifference, which is actually far from the truth. The French are simply more honest and realistic than we are when describing things. It is true that an amazing quiche is actually rather rare. If a French person finds something that is mediocre, they see no reason to say it is great or even good just to spare your feelings. Instead they will frankly describe the quiche as fine or tell you they have had better; both likely true statements. This is not to say that the French never give out compliments or praise, they just wait until they find something or someone who truly deserves it. When a French person does run across something so extraordinary that it merits a strong adjective then it should be seen as a very special moment indeed that others should pay attention to and the person receiving the praise can fully believe and relish.

While on tour, one of my clients asked me how to translate the word 'great' into French. I paused. I know the literal translation of the word 'great', it is either grand or génial depending on the context. However I did not pass this information along right away, because if I did teach this man how to pronounce génial and set him free to point at things (like his dinner at a restaurant for example) and say géniale while smiling and giving the server a thumbs up, I would in fact being doing this man a disservice. Great is a strong word in French and if used too often or too easily, the person you are trying to compliment will assume you are being disingenuous, that you are mocking them, or that you are a complete fool who can't tell good from garbage. So I told him that the actual translation for great is génial but if he really wants to give a compliment à la française he would be better off saying pas mal, not bad, or one of the following adjectives...

Correct

Literal translation: Decent

To be used when an American would say... good, nice, fine, or lovely.

Pas mal

Literal translation: Not Bad

To be used when an American would say... great, wonderful, or very good.

Bon or Bien

Literal translation: Good or Well.

Side note: As a general rule bon is used when describing things that we can taste, touch or smell and bien is used for everything else.

To be used when an American would say... exceptionally good, far exceeds expectations, fantastic, amazing, or awesome/rockin-awesome.

As you can see, in the photo above these boys are enjoying a Monaco (beer and grenadine). Since they are drinking said beverage at a Parisian café,  they have resisted the urge to high-five the bartender and grin with pleasure as they sip their delicious drinks, instead they are making a classic French Face (I will write a whole separate post on that soon) and probably thinking, these drinks are made just like they should be, thus they are pas mal.

Bare Lightbulbs

My mother landed in Paris two weeks ago to get the lay of the land and see this baby bump with her own eyes. Her time here was very enjoyable and tad exhausting (emphasis on the enjoyable mom!). During the first few days of her visit all three of us were plagued with the stomach flu. Since you are mostly an American audience I will spare you the dirty details but suffice to say that it put a serious cramp in our stinky cheese eating, oyster slurping, wine sipping, walking all over Paris plans and resulted in a lot of time resting in our apartment.

The last time my mother was in Paris was in April of 2008, she arrived one day after we moved into our Montmartre home. At that time we owned two inflatable mattresses, two blankets, a couple of cups made out of cut-off plastic water bottle tops and a set of disposable silverware we kept from a take-out place. Since then we have fleshed out our apartment with some furnishings: a tulip stand record player from Germany, a cardboard stag head, an electric fireplace, a couch, a bed, a vintage rolling bar cart... but admittedly we still have a some holes....

For example it isn't easy to explain to one's mother why one doesn't own a garbage can, a rolling pin, a pot holder, a full length mirror or a single coat hanger... The excuse of 'we just moved in and aren't sure where to buy hangers in Paris' just doesn't fly like it used to. It was equally hard to justify why exactly we have a retro French faux bois Jazz wall clock in our kitchen that slowly loses time (which happened to be 93 minutes slow that day) as our only timepiece.

What sent my dear mother over the edge, however, was the bare lightbulb dangling from the bathroom ceiling. Unlike most American apartments, French apartments come with no light fixtures; just wires protruding from the walls and ceilings and if you are lucky a lightbulb. Such was the case two years ago when we moved in and sadly such is still the case in both our bathroom and entryway.

Why? It's hard to say.

Is it because we have trouble with commitment? Is it because I am married to a person who scoffs at most lamp shades and says things like "30€? Pfffft! I can make you one of those!'? Je ne sais pas.

These missing items, combined with an extended amount of time sitting on the couch feeling unwell, lead to a larger discussion of how we are going to prepare this petite apartment for our new permanent houseguest, the bébé!

My mother looked around, declared it a mission impossible and strongly suggested we move to (gasp!) the suburbs. Coming from her (long time suburb hater) I knew that to a non-Parisian the situation here does look a little daunting.

But not to worry! We have a plan: Since we only have one bedroom and I value my sleep and sex-life we are planning to put the little darling in the living room. I have the corner all picked out. It's going to be lovely. My crafty husband is going to put wheels on the crib so we can slide it over to access our only built in storage which would be otherwise blocked by the crib. Then when we need to do laundry we will just push the coffee table against the record player along the wall and fold out our giant drying rack. The kid won't need a mobile because Grégoire's bike hangs on the wall to save floor space and its spinning wheels will surely provide hours of entertainment to this little bébé. See? Piece of cake!

Parisians have adapted to living in small spaces by becoming expert jugglers and impressive contortionists. As you can see in the photo up top, this clever city dweller stores his bike outside his window. My imaginative sister in law uses her oven as a pantry. These fine people in the photo to the left don't have the space for a garden so they glued a plastic one to their windows. Until last week (when we took an admittedly much needed trip to IKEA to purchase a full length mirror) I inspected my outfits by standing on my toilet seat and bending over to look at myself in the cabinet mirror glued to the wall above our sink. Problem(s) solved.

All of this to say, where there is a will there is a way and Parisians have been cramming themselves into Paris for years! With imagination and determination we too will find a way to integrate a baby and all of its accouterments into our tiny Parisian home. I have no doubt.

Do NOT get fat

Not getting fat during pregnancy seems to be a major concern in this country. It is a topic that is not merely discussed amongst French women, but an issue that is addressed and readdressed by the medical community and by the government. It is as if there is a nation-wide fear that by encouraging women to have babies (a necessary evil in order to keep the population numbers up and support the tax burden) the government risks compromising one of France's main touristic attractions (tourism is a huge part of the French economy) beautiful thin women.

It's hard to say if it is truly a question of national economics or if it more of a issue of national vanity, but I can say that I am stunned at the amount of attention that is focused on this topic.

The following lines appeared on the State's guide to pregnancy and were repeated in about five different sections, "Pregnancy is a time for you to eat twice as well, NOT TWICE AS MUCH" and "Most women eat for two when they are not pregnant, so don't get any ideas about starting to eat for four just because you are pregnant."

My doctor's office also had a thing or two to say about weight gain. Their list of Dos and Don'ts clearly stated their position, "This office considers 'cravings' to be a myth and they will not be tolerated or recognized as an excuse for excessive weight gain."

Gotcha.

Thigh Highs and Garter Belts

One pregnancy related problem I am currently facing the struggle to find the right kind of hosiery to wear. This expanding belly of mine is either pushing my tights down in an uncomfortable bunchy manner or causing serious discomfort (not to mention an unattractive double belly fat roll) by coming up half way over my bump.

Last week I started looking around for maternity tights online and I quickly ran across a French forum for women that was discussing this very issue! The title of the discussion: "What does one do to keep their legs warm while pregnant and wearing dresses and heels?"

The French answer to, let's face it, this rather French issue was...

....not suggesting you buy bulging maternity tights.

....not suggesting that pregnant ladies should skip the skirts and heels and just wear sweats and velour.

Oh no, mes amis. Their answer? Thigh highs and garter belts! Not only can you wear them after the pregnancy but they keep you looking sexy and fabulous during your pregnancy without cutting off your circulation, causing unflattering bunching or compromising your femininity.

Only in Paris.

The Dos and Don'ts of a French Pregnancy

One of the most interesting and amusing aspects of being pregnant in a foreign land is comparing the list of dos and don'ts you get here with the list you grew up hearing about. When you are pregnant (much like when you are a bride) advice comes at you from all angles, charged with personal experiences, political bias and hearsay. Today I want to share some of my favorite dos and don'ts given to me by french colleagues, doctors and official websites...

Do not under any circumstances lift your arms above your head! I wasn't sure what our accountant was talking about when she told me this, so I started to move my arms and said, "What? You mean like this?" Before my arms were at breast height she reached over with both hands and clamped them to my side... "Yes, exactly like that. Don't do it! This means that from now on your husband must scrub the tiles." While I am a wonderful homemaker, I am terrible housecleaner, thus I am honestly not sure what tiles she was referring to... my shower stall tiles possibly? She seemed so insistent that I nodded, looking grave while I assured her I would let Grégoire scrub all of the tiles in our home from here on out.

For those addicted to smoking, up to ten light cigarettes per day is permissible. Whaaaat? And this little tid-bit of advice was on the list of dos and don'ts that my doctor's office gave to me!

Consumption of alcohol is unacceptable, wine is acceptable. This was also on the list my doctor's office gave me. Now, last time I checked wine contains alcohol so reread the sentence... and read it again (consumption of wine is a topic near and dear to my heart) and I then determined that by alcohol they must mean hard liquor. So manhattans are out but a nice glass of red burgundy is apparently fine. What does that mean for beer you say? Well that is clarified in the following rule.

All sparkling beverages should be systematically avoided, especially during the later months of pregnancy. Now in real life (as in when I am not pregnant) I really only like to drink three things: wine, coffee and water. That is it. When hard pressed I will have an Orangina or a ginger ale but I otherwise do not enjoy soda. So what's a girl to do? Two out of the three beverages I drink on a regular basis are shunned by the American pregnancy community and the French have banned fizzy drinks.... A girl can only drink so much juice.

Avoid ingesting dirt or anything that a cat may have peed on. All joking aside this apparently is the most important rule of all for French pregnant ladies to follow. Over here toxoplasmosis abounds and while it has little to no effect on the mother it can kill or seriously hurt your fetus. One way of getting this bacteria is through cat excrement... many French cat owners lodge their cats during pregnancy or add the cat box cleaning duty to their husband's list of chores along with tile scrubbing. Another way of getting the toxoplasmosis bacteria is through dirt that is clinging to your vegetables, some say a good scrubbing is fine others go so far as to say no vegetables or fruit should be consumed in their raw form, especially salad. I am still trying to sort this whole toxoplasmosis thing out, for the time being I am required to do monthly blood tests to confirm that I don't have it... so far so good.... but I can't help but eye restaurant salads more carefully to confirm those black specks are pepper and not dirt sprinkles.

Unpasteurized milk products and undercooked meat must not be consumed. France and America seem to agree here, which is nice. In the US importation of unpasteurized milk products is illegal, so you really have to go out of your way to eat them but here they are everywhere! As soon as you want to eat a fancy bit of fromage or an organic yoghurt they are almost automatically made with raw milk which makes them delicious but which also makes them dangerous for unborn babies. When it comes to meat the French strongly believe that the optimal way to serve it is rare. Restaurants and their staff are so sure of this that when you order it any other way, you are likely to get a look and a lecture on how the meat would be better if you order it, at the very least, medium rare. For me that is apparently not an option. When confronted with the temptation of order a rare piece of steak (both because that is my preference and because I hate being lectured by servers) I conjure up the image of my doctor and her shoe. The day she presented me with the list of rules my she took off one of her brown leather high heels and pointed to the sole saying, "You need to ask for it well done Mary, it should be cooked so tough that you might think you are be eating shoe leather!" Great.

Three reasons....

Three reasons why having a baby in a 350 square foot apartment in Paris (contrary to popular belief) is in fact going to be great!

1. No need to buy an expensive and complicated baby monitor... I am fairly certain that we will be able to hear our child from any corner of our apartment.

2. The age old argument over what color to paint the nursery will not be an issue for us as I doubt either of us will want to paint a corner of our living room yellow or blue or green or what have you.

3. Once our child learns how to roll or crawl or walk there is absolutely no risk of them falling down the stairs... we don't have any! Ha!

I heart Google

For obvious reasons I LOVE this spot for Google.

http://creativity-online.com/work/google-parisian-love/18839