stumped
Contrary to popular opinion, I love my kid. I really do. But what I realized is that I love her WAY MORE when she’s isn’t on vacation with me.
Let’s just say that my 3 previous visits to Paris minus Maya were quite different from this one. But since I’m thrilled to be in Paris regardless of the fact my kid won’t stop asking why there is no CPK on the Champs-Elysees, I’ll shut up and let the pictures speak for themselves.
Tea time at London's Fortnum & Mason. I won't detail the resulting stomach ache from ingesting large amounts of gluten.
"Feeding" the swans at London's Green Park.
On the balcony of our Paris hotel. Messy hair all around.
At the top of the Eiffel Tower. Moments before Maya dropped chocolate all over her Burberry coat.
It took no less than 10 shots before we got the Eiffel Tower in the middle of us.
Room service at our Paris hotel - 5 mornings in a row. My dad is at home in Los Angeles shaking his head in disapproval right now.
Shopping with my mother-in-law at Galeries Lafayette.
Okay, we all knew I couldn’t leave it at that…
If Maya doesn’t stop…asking the French-speaking waiters why there is no kid’s menu…telling me she needs to go potty when I can’t find a 20 cent coin for the bathroom anywhere…losing her train ticket over and over again, I am dropping her off Charles de Gaulle so she can hop on the first flight I can find. To wherever it may be going.
To all you moms out there who are able to effortlessly juggle 4 kids while on a vacation (and you know who you are) – I am stumped.
the second shoe
Things were going well. Too well.
Traffic to the airport was great, we boarded our flight to London with minimal delays, and after a glass of orange juice, Maya changed into her pajamas and fell asleep before we even took off!
Maya before...
I remained vigilant though…for fear that things could take a turn for the worse. That the second shoe would drop.
But 2 hours later Maya was still sleeping soundly and Ali – not having Internet access – was steadily eating his way through the 11 hour flight. Rocket salad with tandoori chicken at 11 pm anyone?
“Ameena, you are so dramatic,” I berated myself as I turned over to go to sleep. “Traveling with a child is a piece of cake!”
7 hours later I woke up well rested and to the sounds of flight attendants with charming British accents asking me what I wanted for breakfast. And to a 6-year-old who was a very scary shade of green.
Maya minutes before she threw up...everywhere.
So the moral of the story is…never let your guard down. And keep barf bags (note the plural) near you at all times. Oh, and the second shoe?
It always drops.
bonjour paris
I spent the weekend tracking down the following:
For Ali: a 10-pack of undershirts, 12 pairs of socks, and a travel-sized everything – from Scope to shaving gel to 2 tubes of Crest Complete.
For Maya: an endless supply of travel-sized carbs, a new (presentable) wardrobe, a DVD-player and matching earphones, and several non-TSA-approved Ziplocks to catch the inevitable vomit that will result from motion sickness and/or too many carbs.
And seeing as I’m about to face a 10-hour journey to London/Paris and 11 nights in close quarters with the two messiest people on the planet, I tracked down my acupuncturist to get a little something for myself.
“I’m getting on a long flight tomorrow and my kid won’t stop asking me questions like ‘Do leprechauns know how to spell?’ Can you stick an extra pin in me to help me out in the patience department?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” he nodded. “Of course I can.”
8 needles (including one especially painful one in my right ear) and 45 minutes later my patience level hasn’t increased one iota. So either Dr. Lu is the best salesman in the world or one must be patient when it comes to seeing results from acupuncture.
Am I the only one who sees the irony here?
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 