Forget Paris

It is pretty obvious that I am in love with Paris.  I had the opportunity to once again visit my favorite city a few weeks ago.  The trip to Paris was for work, and I went 2 days early to visit my friend Sara.  She, too, had recently become a mother and I was dying to snuggle her son.

This was not my first time leaving Matilda.  Prior to this trip, I had visited Amsterdam for 3 days.  I was sad to leave my baby but took advantage of 3 full nights of sleep.  Also, I brought back a disturbingly large amount of stroopwaffles to indulge in.

I had also been in Chicago for my Grandfather’s funeral.  Returning to Matilda was a bit more emotional because my feelings were very raw.  Those sad times really called for her cuddles and giggles.

So when it came time to leave for Paris, I felt fully prepared to spend time away from her.  I had done it twice before, why should Paris be any different?  Little did I know that Paris was about to be replaced by my new true love, Matilda.

Upon arriving to Paris via train, I was flooded with those familiar sights, smells and emotions that are so Parisian.  Fresh bread and cigarette smoke.  Fancy perfume and car exhaust.  People, people, people everywhere.  I quickly made it to my friend’s adorable flat in Le Marais and commenced cuddling her new son.  That was when the pangs of missing Matilda first started.  His baby smell, his baby sound – it made me yearn for her.  However his presence helped me push past those feelings to enjoy my weekend.


The next day, we took full advantage of the delicious Parisian food and the famous Parisian soldes (sales).  Everywhere we looked, there were amazing and stunning outfits, shoes, bags on sale.  Everywhere I turned, my nose filled with incredible smells, mixing salty with sweet.  On this gorgeous summer weekend, Paris was even better than I remembered.


But I also saw, on every street corner, a gray Babyzen Yoyo stroller.  It is the exact same stroller we have.  On the one hand, I thought – “wow, we must be cool parents considering every Parisian mom has this same stroller.”  But on the other hand, it made me miss my baby even more.


I was slowly beginning to realize that not even my favorite city could overpower being away from her.  I loved her so much that all I wanted to smell, mixed in with those great Parisian smells, was her baby skin.

At the end of the day, the trip was incredible.  I had so much fun with my friend, and per usual, she introduced me to exquisite restaurants.  Work that week was extremely productive and I learned a lot.  I also connected with many colleagues that I don’t often get to see in person.

But I could not wait to get home and snuggle my baby girl…..and model my new clothes for her.   😆

Forget Paris – I’m a mom!

Being a Mom

As of this past Sunday, I have officially been a mom for 6 weeks.  In the most cliche fashion, I can’t believe how time has flown.  My pregnancy seemed to drag on FOREVER (as have the nights Matilda is up crying).  However since her birth, I feel like the calendar has nitrous oxide under its ass like the cars in Fast and Furious.

As such, I have neglected my blog.  It’s incredible how such a small being can flip your world upside down.  And so, I wanted to take a moment to share what being a mom has been like for me these first 6 weeks.

First, there have certainly been the unexpected surprises.  Friends and family and funny YouTube videos had prepared me for most mom-related things.  But projectile poop?  Baby hair loss?  Stinky baby feet?   On one of the last days in the hospital, I tried a quick diaper change in my hospital room only to end up with yellow baby poop up and down my pajama pants.  It happened too fast to react, shooting out with the force of a cannon.

Second, time now has a mind of its own.  As I have mentioned, time has gone so fast, but that is overall.  The nights are far too long, and sleep is fleeting and slips through my fingers like water.  Matilda’s cries are long and loud and her smiles over within a blink.  In only 6 weeks, she no longer looks like any of her original photos and has outgrown 1/3 of her clothes.  One part of me wants to grab the calendar and shake it silly, begging it to pause.  But then my other half tries to take a match to that NOS tank to fast forward to Matilda holding her own bottle.  I’ve heard it said that in parenting, the days are long but the years are short.  I now completely understand.

Finally, that love.  That all consuming, indescribable, aching love.  It is the love that begins in your gut and radiates outward.  It is that feeling that comes from the part of the brain without language capabilities.  As much as my eyes burn or my stomach rumbles or my arm pits stink (showers are less frequent now), the love pushes me forward.  It is the love that all moms know.  I would do anything for her.

I guess that’s what being a mom is.

Until next time…