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Bus fare for the day=2 euros

After another long hard week, Thursday rolled around. Round 2 with the language class, and earlier in the week, I decided that I would meet with Lauren and her English assistant friends for lunch during my break. Jacques still wasn't back Thursday morning, so I had to rush a little to get all  my stuff together and get the kids ready and to the neighbors (I'm still not driving them to school and I don't think I will be for a while. I'd like to say that is by choice.) and then down to the bus stop. Lovely little ride into Drag, got to class right on time. The teachers decided to move me to another section. At first I thought it was a higher section, but after the first exercise (matching phrases to images), I was sadly mistaken. I ended up spending the morning helping everyone (1 Tunisian, 2 Moroccans, 1 Turk, and 1 Chinese-- all female recent immigrants) with their exercises. By break time, I was starving for both food and a common language. I wasn't quite sure how to get to the restaurant where I was meeting the English assistants so I went across the street to Aureline's store, L'Entrepot to ask for directions. It turned out to be right around the corner! Once I found it I felt a little silly asking for directions, but it was still nice to see Aureline and I probably earned mega-points in some aspect of this au pair thing by going to see her and asking for directions en francais. Le Bar le Commerce, the restaurant, was a lot bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside. Upon entering, a waitress immediately ushered me into the back room where I stumbled upon my new friends

FL-RB: Natasha, Joanne, Me, Vanessa, Anthony, Valentina, and Lauren

 The restaurant served mostly Italian food. I ordered a pizza, Marguerite of course. It was delicious. But I enjoyed the conversation the most. Finally having people my age to talk to was a a positive all by itself. Plus, with three Americans, two Brits, one French guy and an Italian girl, the language flying back and forth across the table was a wonderful melange of American English, British English, a lot of French, and some basic Italian. We exchanged phone numbers and are now all friends on facebook. I look forward to seeing them all again soon. Anthony is trying to plan a "booty shaking" night for February 5, I'll have to see if Jacques will let me go. Unfortunately lunch had to come to an end. My new friends had to go back to work and I had to go back to class.
For the afternoon, my teacher decided to give me something "more difficult"-- translating textbook passages from present tense to futur proche, passe compose and imparfait. Still too easy. Towards the end, he asked me to explain to everyone what a day is like as an au pair. I started off explaining what an au pair was exactly (again, no one knew). But this section didn't speak enough French to even understand what I was talking about anyways. I ended up having to stop after every phrase and explain what that meant, in French. I know it was probably a good exercise both for me and for the other students, but it was so bloody frustrating. And just thinking about what I had to go back to after class really brought me down from my lunchtime high. By the time I was finished, I felt and probably looked like I was ready to jump out the window. I was grateful that the teacher handed me an exercise about streets and directions as "something light". When I finished, it was 3:55 and I had to run to catch the 4:05 bus back to Trans.

Jacques got back last night, and compared to the rest of the week, today was a breeze. Now that the vacuum works, I finished my Friday chores by 10:30 and had the rest of the day to myself. I went on another run, this time the route that I had originally planned. When I got home, Jacques was making lunch and going through the US Polo Association collection that arrived today. I stretched and showered and joined him in a watered-down aperitif. Fish and salad for lunch. After I cleaned up, I went to my room and slept until the kids got home. Hopefully that won't affect my sleep too much tonight. Alexis had soccer, but I opted to stay home with Maxime and draw pictures. Below is a collaborative piece about dinosaurs.

La France que j'aime

It is official-- J'aime la France! The past few days have been, if not absolutely wonderful, pretty damn good.
It all started Saturday morning: Max barged in my room the second I finished getting dressed and wanted to play Roller Coaster Tycoon again. We had already beaten Forest Frontiers and Dynamite Dunes, so we finally got to play Leafy Lake, the one he had been dying to play so we could build the boat tour (we used all of our initial loan to build that thing!). We won shortly after we built the train. So then Max got out all his legos and cars and trains and we built a volcano out of boxes and yoga mats. While we were searching for things to add to the mountain we found a frisbee. Right then and there we dropped everything and went outside to play. After about an hour, a lost puppy wandered into our yard. The boys tried and tried to shoo her away but she seemed to take a liking to me. She was wearing a collar with her phone number written on it, so while I held her and scratched her ear, Alex called the owner. It was time for lunch but Alex and I decided to postpone to take the puppy home. That was probably the first bonding experience I've had with Alex. Both the boys love to play outside but Max will get tired, bored, or cold quickly. Alex and I could kick a soccer ball around, play frisbee, or walk the hills returning a lost dog all day. When we got back, Jacques had put our fish back in the oven so it was still warm. After a nice siesta, we all went out to Le Motte for Max's soccer game(s). Soccer is a little different here than in the US. For little kids (Max's age), instead of playing one game that lasts 45 minutes (including breaks), they play 3 games, each lasting 10 minutes. For goal kicks, one field player stays back and has to kick it to the goalie before the goalie can touch the ball. Also, there are no girls' teams and it is very rare for a girl to play soccer at all. Overall, the kids seemed much more team oriented but also shared a good amount of camaraderie with the other team. After scoring a goal, the whole team runs back to the goalie to exchange hugs and high-fives. After the game, without lining up or anything, all the kids just group together and shake hands. We got home, the kids showered and then Jacques' daughter, Aureline, her husband, and their baby girl joined us for Jacques award winning pizza.
Sunday, after sleeping in until 8:30am, I woke up a little nostalgic thinking that the day before had been a one-time fantastic day. I stayed in bed until 10:30 talking to Ricky, answering emails, hearing Max throw 2 tantrums and just not wanting to get up. Finally, I forced myself out of bed to take a shower. I went out front to find Max still adding things to his mountain and Jacques already preparing lunch. Delicious as always. After I'd finished cleaning up the kitchen, Jacques approached me and asked me if I wanted to take the kids to the beach. Of course I said yes. An hour later after convincing me to wear my Uggs instead of flip-flops to the beach and searching for a two misplaced boxes of boots for the boys, we were in the car on the way to Frejus. The second I got out of the car I wished I'd worn my flip-flops. Bright and sunny, it was easily as warm as a nice day in San Francisco. After the streak of under 40 degree temperatures we've been having in Trans, it almost felt like summer. We played around for about an hour and a half before heading back to the house. Soup for dinner and then time for bed.
This morning, Jacques finally left for work. He left the car behind for me to use, but he still doesn't want me to take the kids to school. So I got up, made hot chocolate for the boys, parfaitement, got them ready for school, walked them to les voisins, came back home, skyped Ricky for a bit, and then got to work. I started a load of laundry (one load takes 3 hours in the machine alone). I vacuumed again. About half way through, the vacuum really did lose suction. I took the entire thing apart and fount a pen stuck in the hose. It had caused a enough of a back-up of dust and hair that it clogged the vacuum. After I cleaned everything out, the vacuum started picking up everything and anything within a five-inch radius. The suction was so strong that the vacuum would stick to the floor and not want to move. I have to admit though, it felt pretty good to have figured that out all by myself and to finally have a dust-free floor! I cleaned up the kids rooms and changed all the sheets. Alex now has Olympique Marseille bedding ("Toute la France est pour Marseille" according to Jacques) and Maxime has spiderman. After that, I decided that I was finally going to map out a trail to run. I checked out a few different hiking websites, but ended settling for Google Maps. I had planned to just run down our street, up and around another street that would eventually connect back to Chemin des Suous. Somehow, whether it was because of my poor sense of direction, innate curiosity, preference for trails over roads, or the fact that I just wasn't thinking, I ended up turning too soon and took a horse trail all the way up over the hill, and then back down through several olive orchards and vineyards, a makeshift soccer field, past le Sacre Montmartre and into downtown Trans. I ended up finding another trail that took me back up the hill to des Suous so I didn't have to worry about the traffic on la Route des Arcs. Once I got back to the house, I threw a frozen baquette in the oven, stretched out, and fixed myself a salad. But the workday wasn't done. Dishes, more laundry and ironing and then the kids came home and the real work began. Crepes, homework, showers, and dinner before I could sit down and kick off my bumblebee slippers. After nearly 14 hours, I was exhausted. I let the kids finish their episode of les Simpsons and then got them ready for bed. Alex, always so cooperative, was in bed within 5 minutes. Max, on the other hand, comme d'habitude, wanted to say goodnight to papa. He had already called him twice that evening but got no answer and no call back. I let him try one last time before ushering him off to bed. Ten minutes later I could hear him sobbing and went in to try and comfort him. I figured out before Jacques came home that if I let Max sleep with the phone in his room, he'll usually go to sleep. Once again it worked like a charm and I kissed him on the forehead bon nuit pour la premiere fois!
So now here I am, contemplating my adventures from the past few days and all the adventures I plan to have while I'm here. I entered the Purefans contest for the Taylor Swift concert in Paris in March and I'm pretty sure I want to win more than anyone in the entire world. But even if I don't win, which, unless I come across some of that luck that scored me the Mickey Mouse t-shirt from the Disney Channel contest when I was six (luck is also known as my parents), I probably wont, I know I can make even better adventures out of some of the places I discovered today. I'll be sure to bring my camera next time.
*La France que j'aime is a book by Pierre Bonte that was featured in Le Grand Cabaret Saturday night and "is a stroll through the quaint and sentimental France."

Les griefs

As of this past Wednesday, I have officially been here two weeks. Still undecided as to whether it is going by quickly or slowly. It seems fast when I think of time in how many days have gone by, but slow when I think of how many days I have left until I've been here a month (another 2 weeks from today). Then it seems fast again when I think that in 2 weeks, I'll be 1/8 of the way done. That's how I used to look at school and it always made it go by fast, especially when I would finally get so absorbed in my classes that I stopped keeping track of time and just let it happen.

As of right now, I'm hoping that the worst has passed and that it will continue to get better from here. This week has been especially difficult. Jacques stayed home all week, I think to help me get more situated before he takes off for the next 6 weeks. I don't think he's comfortable leaving yet but he is going to have to get going within the next few days to start selling the collection for next winter.

I'm in another rut of "what to do?" My self-consciousness continues to get the best of me while it is clear that Jacques is looking for all or nothing. Twice this week he has asked me if I wanted to go home. Both times I replied with a firm no. Okay, the second time was firm. The first, a bit tentative. But I am determined to stick this out despite the misfortunes of the past week.

Les migraines

It turns out alcohol gives me migraines. That is an absolutely fabulous thing to discover your first week in Europe. Doesn't put a damper on the experience at all. I'm thinking it has something to do with my concussions. But I seriously have not had more than one glass at a time and within an hour my head is pounding, the room is spinning, sounds are distorted, and the tiniest bit of light is like the sun and not even 1000mg of Doliprane will make it go away. I think Jacques actually got the picture after the 3rd migraine on Tuesday (which is when I conceded that alcohol was indeed the trigger). He hasn't offered me a glass of wine since and I haven't had anymore headaches. However that was also the first time he asked if I wanted to go home. The time where I was probably a little too hesitant with my answer. It's not that I wanted to go home. I was just shocked that he asked. And I had a migraine. Everything catches you off guard when you have a migraine.


Les Enfants

I know I've mentioned their terrible behavior since Jacques has gotten home but it doesn't seem to be getting any better. At least the majority of it is not directed at me (with the exception of a few Bart-Simpson-esque gestures). On the other hand, I don't know which I'd rather deal with, the kids behavior or Jacques' frustration. But at dinner tonight, Alexis squirted an orange in Maxime's eye because Max was using the knife to make designs in his orange peel and Alex wanted to cut a piece of bread. Boys will be boys? But I feel like that is an extreme. It's funny though. The second Jacques is out the door, they play perfectly together. My mom sent a book of foam gliders for them to make. I made one with them and the next morning while Jacques was at the gym they made the rest by themselves and played with them until he got back. Then it was back to the video games.

La conduite

So my mercedes benz 4x4 is an automatic. So much for all those stick shift lessons and driving up and over and down and three-point turn and up and over and down that one overpass out by Freeport. But none of those lessons could have prepared me for driving with Jacques anyways. I understand that his life, and his kids' lives are potentially in my hands, but that is no reason for him to be so nervous that he is ready to jump out of the car at a moment's notice. I pride myself on being a cautious driver. Except for that gosh darn curb, I had a perfect score on my first behind the wheel test and in the three years that I have been driving, I have never been in an accident (except for with that wood pole at Celeste's apartment). Yes, the rules for driving here are a little different (right ALWAYS has the right of way, even to oncoming traffic, and you can't turn left across traffic unless there are arrows that say you can turn), the roads are a little narrower, and you feel like you are going faster just because the speedometer is in kilometers per hour, but all in all, it's still driving and I still don't like it but I still manage to do just fine. Not according to Jacques, who, might I add, when it's his turn at the wheel, is the craziest most reckless (aka- French) driver I've ever seen. (The unwritten French rules of the road state that there is no such thing as a lane line or a speed limit and stop signs mean yield --worse than California, I swear.) Of course that's only when he's driving. When I'm driving, the speed limit is too fast, no matter how far away the next turn is I'm going to miss it and even after a four-second stop at a yield sign checking right, then left, then right again, I am not paying attention to oncoming traffic. It makes me so nervous that I do brake a little faster and harder, turn a little sharper, and when I'm coming up on a round-point it's like my entire body is in tachycardia. He needs to understand that yelling at me about black ice the entire ride to school and asking me if I'm sure I have my license does not help anybody. Anyways, I don't think he is planning on leaving me the car while he is away at this point. I'm not sure if I mind or not. While I don't mind not driving, I'd appreciate it if he had a little faith in me.


La classe
Yesterday was my first day of French class. I started off by introducing myself (Je m'appelle Gabriella. J'ai 19 ans. Je suis Americaine. blahblahblah). There are about 14 people in the class, about four boys and ten girls. They are all from Turkey and Tunisia, they are all Muslim, and they are all married. The age range is about 26 to 40. None of them no where California is. None of them knew what an au pair was. None of them want to visit the US because it is too dangerous. Maybe none of that should surprise me, but it did. I probably don't know where their hometowns are. And even They all hate Bush and think Obama is ok. The Turks sit at one end of the table and the Tunisians sit at the other end. They all go back and forth between their native languages and French and have fantastic accents. After my grand introduction, I took a few placement exams. I wasn't too pleased with how I did (I kept confusing my use of near future, simple future, and conditional tenses). But the teacher seemed impressed. After the tests, it was break time. I had planned on going down to the crêperie down the street for some food but the tests ran a little into my break time and some of the older Turkish women bring food to share so I got to sit with them. After break, the teacher (Stephanie) gave me a few exercises (all very easy dealing with basic verbs and phrases). She corrected my work as I went. Here and there laughing at a careless mistake or a slight misunderstanding ("No, no Gabriella. Ce n'est pas la vendeuse qui demande 'combien', c'est le client!"). Personally, I didn't think it was funny but she was British so that might explain it. If anything, the class is something to get me out of the house for a day. And for that, I am thankful.

L'aspirateur

a diagram of the vacuum. made in paint by me :)

Earlier this week, I think Tuesday, Jacques asked me to vacuum the house. I thought it was a little strange to vacuum a house that had no carpet, but no matter how many times I swept and mopped the first week, the bottoms of my feet would get blacker and blacker. So Tuesday morning, I went to vacuum the house but the vacuum would not pick up anything and I couldn't figure out why. So I resigned to sweeping again and told Jacques when he got home. He must have tried it out yesterday while I was in class and gotten it to work, because he asked me to vacuum again this morning. So again I turned on the vacuum and all it did was move the dirt around in circles without picking it up. So I took off the extension and the vacuum does have suction, it just wasn't reaching down  for whatever reason. I spent the rest of the morning crawling around the house on my hands and knees trying to vacuum. Eventually I gave up once again and swept the last two rooms. Jacques came home just as I was finishing and when I explained to him again that the vacuum wasn't working, we went over to the vacuum and he pressed a tiny button on the bottom of the extension and suddenly it worked. I was speechless, trying to stay composed after all the trouble it had given me. Jacques asked me if I had swept the whole house again and I couldn't take it anymore. I burst into tears sobbing that I had spent the whole morning on my hands and knees with the vacuum. He felt horrible and proceeded to console me and make me an amazing lunch even though I was going to eat it by myself since he was going out with a friend. Also, while Jacques was at the gym this morning, he found out about two American girls living in the area and got their phone numbers and email addresses. I emailed them both and heard back from one today. Lauren, a 25-year-old English Language Assistant from Florida, and I are going to have lunch next week. So in the end what started out as yet another stressful day ended up not being so bad after all.

déjeuner (G à D): baguette, Mont D'or fromage, une pomme, les pommes de terre (en petits morceaux), une petite barquette de salade, l'eau, deux côtelettes du veau

120 Chemin de Suous

The outdoor lighting on this could have been better but my camera decided it didn't want to adjust to the indoor lighting or record sound and then it died. I figured I'd get this up before I forget again.

Jacques

Just when I thought I was finding my bearings and settling into a routine, Le Chef de la Maison appeared out of nowhere and threw me off balance again. All of a sudden I'm self conscious about everything I do. I feel like I'm being selfish and lazy if I try to take some time to myself to read or write or just think! I'm feeling antsy. I want to constantly be doing something. Jacques, on the other hand, does the cooking, makes Alex set the table, won't let me help Max put away his toys, and tells me to sit down when I start cleaning up after dinner. When I did get a chance to do the dishes, yesterday at lunch, it was no to washing them by hand and yes to the lave-vaiselle! Gone are the familiar tastes of the American style dishes I had been preparing for the last week. And even though I thought my mind and body were ready for the new and the exciting, my taste buds had the final say in the matter. I feel like I'm six again, with no appreciation for foods other than poptarts and corndogs (gee-whiz those sound amazing right now), wincing at my first sip of wine during shabbat dinner at Soph's. I actually have been eating everything on my plate even if I don't like it. According to Jacques, even that is not enough. If I walk in the kitchen while he is cooking he immediately makes me try whatever he is making and then proceeds to pull things out of the refrigerator, off shelves and out of cabinets that I didn't even know existed. Before I know it I feel like I've eaten a whole meal. Then the actual meal rolls around and I don't eat seconds and thirds and all of a sudden je suis sur un regime aussi. Roxy told me that this was a very food oriented family, but I don't think I could even begin to comprehend all of this.
None of this is to say that I don't like the man. He is very sweet and has a wonderful sense of humor. He is more rough with the boys than I thought he would be. Honestly, I can't say I blame him. Since he has been home they have become complete animals-- constantly crying and fighting and just being loud. It is obvious that they want attention from him, but he doesn't give it to them. I hope he finds a wife who has enough energy to take over parenting these kids. It seems to me that he is too old, too tired, too heartbroken  to really try anymore. It is very sad. He generally has a good disposition but every once in a while I'll catch him staring off into the distance and he just looks empty.
I wish that I had taken more pictures this weekend-- of all the food, Jacques, the kids, the family, the clothes, the car, the secret places I've discovered on the property! I'll have to go back through everything throughout the week once he's gone. This place is like a figment of his imagination. It is rare that we get to see this close into another's mind. You'd think that with the language it would be more difficult. But there are things that pervade even formal communication. Like the man who ordered me a coke on the plane in Galapagos when I wasn't feeling well, the German woman who talked to me through her facial expressions on the flight to Nice, Jacques is telling me his story through his house and his food.
This is what I like. This is what I want to learn more about: the humanness that we all possess no matter who  we are, where we are from, what we believe, or what language we speak. It is globalization at it's most basic level but also at it's finest.

Draguignan

It's hard to believe I've already been here a week. I'm still trying to decide if it feels like it has been shorter, as in a few days, or longer, as in a few months. I guess a week sounds about right. I'm leaning towards the shorter side only because it means that the next eight months will go by quickly. But I am finally starting to feel at home here; the jet lag is wearing off and I am finding my bearings both in the house and in the town. Yesterday, I put on my "big-girl pants," as Roxy likes to call them, and made the trip to Draguignan all by myself.

Halte St. Bernard, Trans-en-Provence-- a bus stop with a view

After missing the first bus (had to get the kids to school), the second bus (decided to start a load of laundry), the third bus (Ricky was on Skype), and the fourth bus (by 2 minutes), and then waiting at the bus stop for 53 minutes, I finally made it to the city. Draguignan is the closest big city to Trans, the former prefecture of the Var department, and a historic World War II memorial site, where the Americans parachuted in to liberate the South of France. But I was there on very official business. I needed to locate and register at my language school. I had spent a good part of the night before trying to find it on Google Maps, but Google doesn't do street view for most places outside of the US and as hard as I tried to mentally overlay the map of the bus route and the map that Google was giving me, I just couldn't do it. As a result, I had no idea where to get off the bus and no idea where to go after I got off the bus. But it turns out le centre ville de Draguignan, despite it's geographical, political, and historical importance is maybe 2/3 the size of downtown Sacramento. It is also extremely tourist friendly. There are giant maps of the entire city every two blocks on the main streets with clearly marked vous êtes ici labels. On the other hand, the streets themselves are not so clearly marked. I must have walked right past la Rue Georges Cisson at least 4 times, stopping to consult the corner maps in between, before I realized it was the right street. But finding the school, c'était pas de la tarte. 

See that little white rectangle below the big black one? That is the business card for the school and the only marker indicating that it is there. I don't know why I thought it would be more obvious than that. According to Roxy, this was a big WTF (welcome to France) moment for me. But there are places like that in the States too--the French Consulate in San Francisco, for example. Anyways, the first few times I walked by it I thought it was just a lawyers office but it turns out it wasn't just a lawyers office it was where I was supposed to go. So I opened the door and it is pitch black inside-- the kind of place my mother would tell me to never go into by myself. So what did I do? I turned on the light. It was then that I knew for sure that I was wearing my big girl pants. I walked up two flights of stairs to a well-lit and clearly marked door and went inside. The head of the school is British so I got everything taken care of quickly and easily. It turns out they are full everyday of the week except for Thursdays. So I'll have to do all my hours for the week in one day. I asked if there were very many other au pairs in the program and there are not. Most of the students are immigrants in their 30s and 40s from the Middle East and Africa. So much for making a close friend with whom I can talk about my infatuation with Karl Marx and how American pop music is destroying western civilization over a baguette or two and later convince to move to Southern California with me and dress up as Che and Castro for Halloween. Tant pis. Speaking of that making friends, the au pair agency finally responded to my email about other au pairs in the area. They're all German except for one Macedonian girl and one Mexican girl and they're all in Marseilles. I might try to make contact eventually but that's 2 language barriers to cross. It would be nice to have none. But I always have Roxy whom I have been talking to every night since she left. And I love hearing from everyone back home. What would I do without the internet? Or without Max who is currently running around the house pretending the toy train I gave him is a rocket ship? Or Alex who loves all the food that I cook, especially the brownies?

Back to Draguignan. If I could count the number of times paradise has been paved by a parking lot. The Nartuby River used to run through there. While it was diverted long before the parking structure was there, last June the Nartuby flooded Trans killing 20 people. Since it is such a small down, funds to repair the damage are scarce. Community places like the soccer stadium are covered in silt, weeds, and trash washed up from the river. As devastating as a flood can be to a community, nothing hits home like a war. After checking into the school I had some time before the next bus so I decided to head over to the Rhone American Cemetery.

 

I have never been one to cry in the face of death, not at funerals, not in passing. But this cemetery was so moving that I couldn't help myself. Upon entering, I really felt as though I was absorbing not only the history, but the lives of the soldiers buried under my feet as I walked along the rows and rows of crosses. Of all the movies and books I have watched and read about World War II, none of them could ever come close to making me really feel what it meant for the world.

"We who lie here died that future generations might live in peace"

 That really says it all. Unfortunately when I walked behind the memorial, I interrupted a young couple's romantic afternoon. I don't know about all of you but nothing turns me on like a cemetery*note sarcasm*. A brief désolé and I was on my way. I'll have to go back another time. There was also a lot of construction going on, a lot of orange tape everywhere which was admittedly a bit distracting. After I left I made an appearance at the local cemetery but I was starving and needed to get back to the bus station by 1:30 so I didn't stay long. One thing I noticed though, as I was walking back through town was that there were suddenly no cars. Another WTF moment. Everyday from 12:30pm to 2pm everything shuts down- the cafés, the boutiques, the services, except for the one bus back to Trans at 1:35, everything. The locals call it the Provence Siesta. And it blew my plans for lunch but I had plenty to eat at the house. Once I got back, I was exhausted from walking all day. It is very hilly here. But I look forward to more adventures in the town. I'll return to Draguignan for my first cours de la langue next week and all is well.

Le cauchemar

I don't even know what it was really about-- satanic rituals or something, but I woke up screaming. Sure enough I woke up the boys. How embarassing? When considering a position as an au pair, maybe someone would think about what to do if a child has a nightmare. I didn't for sure. Of course these positions aren't usually full time like mine is, so dealing with nightmares would probably be left up to the parents. But what do you do if you have nightmare? I sleep with my door closed so I had to get up to make sure Alexis and Maxime were okay; they were. I on the other hand was still shaking while they looked at me like I was crazy. I was finally able to go back to sleep. At least there was no school today, so the boys could sleep in for a bit.
Another thing you should think about as an au pair is what to do if a child starts crying. That one is more obvious and easier to deal with in my opinion, as long as you understand what the problem is exactly. For example, Max burst into tears this morning after breaking his favorite toy. Luckily it was an easy superglue fix and I let him play his drums while he was waiting for it to set.
Showers and homework were easy as always. I did partner reading with Max and he made fun of my accent. Alex reassured me and said I sounded fine. He also sneaked half the brownies I had been saving for Max's party tonight.
There is so much food in the house. Ger keeps bringing food over for dinner even though I told her what we were eating for the rest of the week. She also keeps warning me that the food will go bad if we don't eat it soon. I threw a bunch of stuff away this morning. Leftover lasagna from last night, the rest of the pasta from lunch, mushy pears and carrots from the bottom of the refrigerator.
The boys are at the party now. I think I'm a little surprised that I wasn't invited. I mean for gods sake, I'm doing everything for these people, the least they can do is take me bowling one night. At the same time I'm sort of glad that I got to stay home. I'm not being constantly bombarded by children who don't understand why I need them to repeat themselves slowly, I can take a little break, catch up on my reading and things I need to do for school, plan my day for tomorrow, and of course (the top priority on every au pair's list) grate parmesan.

How to make brownies in France

You would think baking and cooking in France would be a wonderful experience full of adventure and different tastes and textures and trust me, when what you're making turns out the way you want, it is.

I started out with an extremely basic brownie recipe: . 

2 sticks butter (or 1 stick plus 1/2 c. Crisco)
2 c. sugar
4 eggs
1 1/2 c. flour
4 tbsp. cocoa
1 tbsp. vanilla or almond extract

Set oven at 350 degrees and grease a 9x13 inch pan. Blend butter and sugar; add eggs one at a time and blend. Stir flour and cocoa and add to above mixture. Add vanilla or almond extract. Pour into greased pan and bake 20 minutes. This is light cake type brownie--center should be moist.

But, French ingredients are very different from their American counterparts. The flour is a lot lighter, the butter a lot softer (better in my opinion). And depending on what is in your kitchen, you may have to substitute somethings and/or improvise others. One thing to keep in mind is that you HAVE to convert the temperature to Celsius and if you have an oven like mine, which doesn't have temperature markings but gas markings instead, you'll need to figure out what each mark means on your own. I found this temperature conversion site that is helpful but not exact. It makes a good guide for beginners, but it is probably better to get to know your oven. For example this recipe calls for 350 degrees Farenheit so I turned my oven on to the 4 mark. That actually worked well for me. But when I checked the brownies after the 20 minutes called for by the recipe, they were still runny in the middle. I ended up leaving them in for about 35-40 minutes which is what most brownie recipes require anyways and they turned out just like the recipe says-- cake-like and very moist. The recipe also called for nuts but I don't like nuts that much. I still wanted a little texture so I took two chocolate bars, one milk chocolate and one cacao and broke them up in to small pieces and mixed it in the batter. They're not quite Ghiradelli Costco mix brownies, but they are still good and I'm sure the kids will love them. If you're feeling lazy, they do have  prêt à cuire or ready to make brownie mixes at Carrefour

L'anniversaire de Maxime

After spending nearly all day cleaning the house and getting ready, Max's birthday turned out to be quite the success. I didn't get to make cookies like I had wanted because there is no such thing as baking soda or baking powder here. While I was a little disappointed about that, it was one less thing to do and I didn't have a moment to spare. The house, while it looked clean, was filthy when I started. I swept and mopped the entire house, I cleaned the bathrooms and the kids rooms, I cleaned the kitchen, and I cleaned all the windows in the front part of the house, both inside and out, and dusted le salon.  

I finished just around the time the boys came home from school and Tantie Ger seemed happy with everything that I had done. She kept asking me how everything was going and if I was ready for tonight and if I needed anything. Finally she left but then she came back and asked me what I was making for dinner the rest of the week. She was even more surprised when I had an answer: tuesday- lasagna, wednesday- chicken, thursday- spaghetti, and friday- porkroast. Then of course she was like so you need me to go grocery shopping again and I said. "Non, Roxy et moi deja faison la commision aujourd'hui." She inspected our purchases in the refrigerator and finally said ah bon, a happy à demain and she was on her way.

Then I started the boys on their homework. Max had reading and Alex had none. For not being fluent in French, I do an awfully good job helping Max. All he has to do is read the words off the page but the pronunciation practice is good for both of us. For things like that, it isn't necessary to know the material as long as you know how to teach the material. And it works. After I finished with Max I had to get the boys into the shower, the one thing they are always reluctant to do. I guess when it's cold the handheld shower head isn't much fun. I still think it wastes less water and therefore is more efficient, economical, and environmentally friendly.

Next on the list was to prepare the snacks for before dinner. Several different drinks including coke, sparkling water, cider, and a nice bottle of Bordeaux blanc, shrimp cocktail, lays potato chips, Bonne Mama butter cookies, and biscottes du fromage. 

Once everyone was there, the shrimp, chips, and bordeaux were the only things anyone wanted. I still have a whole plate of the Bonne Mama cookies on the counter (minus one). Roxy recommended them and I obliged. I didn't think they were that amazing though. They are too crispy. I really have to say I am not extremely impressed by the French food I've been exposed to. Except for the bread. Baguettes are to die for. But tonights meal, prepared by me, was probably the best I've had so far- Veal blanket and rice. Even though the word veal makes me want to cringe, eating it is pretty plain. Eating cow is one thing, eating baby cow is another. But the highlight of the day is the French birthday cake. It is more of a pastry cake than a cake cake. That might be because there is no baking powder or baking soda. So it's a glazed pastry with little chunks of fruit inside, like a fruitcake. It didn't taste bad but after two slices, I'm adding birthday cake=fruit cake to my very short list of reasons I don't want to be French for the rest of my life. 

Les deux tantes

On Friday, I seriously thought I was going to die if I didn't get out of here. So I called the American aunt, Roxy and she drove from Silan and was here in time for dinner. Since she has been here I have been so happy. It has been great to have someone to talk to and she actually does stuff with me. On Saturday, she took me to the bus stops and I took pictures of the schedules so I could take the bus into the neighboring towns if I wanted. On Sunday, we took the boys to the park and played with their RC helicopters and un peu du foot

.

 Today, is Max's birthday so we have to go into town to get a bunch of things for dinner and to make cookies. Apparently the French adore chocolate chip.

Roxy has been a lifesaver. I feel so much more confident and comfortable with being here now. I'm a little worried that I will get lonely again when she leaves but now that I know the town a little better I'm sure I will be fine and I will have stuff to do. Plus it should be sunny for the next couple weeks and that will brighten up the place a bit more. The only thing I am really worried about is the other aunt-- Tantie Ger. She has always been nice, or at least what I have percieved as nice, to my face. But apparently she has been going around telling the rest of the family that I can't speak French and that I can't cook-- both of which aren't true. I only speak French around her and yeah, I'm a little rusty but I speak enough to communicate with both her and the boys and that should be plenty for anyone. As for the cooking, she asked me if I wanted her to cook one night and I said yes because I was tired. But I spent the whole time watching her and helping her so I'm not sure where she got that idea from. Anyways, since I invited Roxy, Tantie Ger has had a bit of an attitude. Roxy says it's because they don't get along but I think it's more or less that she wants to be in control. I didn't mean to offend her by inviting Roxy but I really needed someone to help me adjust to life here. I'm a little nervous for dinner tonight but I think everything will go swell. I might need to spend a little time on google translate to prove to everyone that contrary to what they've heard, I can indeed speak French. Sort of. Anyways, I've got a lot of work to do for tonight. Wish me luck!

deux

The days here don't end; they melt together due to the fact that I haven't slept since I left Sacramento three days ago. I'm exhausted. I hate it here. The kids are the only part of this that I am even remotely enjoying. As a result I feel terrible because it is not their fault that I am not enjoying my time here; it's the situation. And yes, it has only been three days but the transition has been terrible. A warning to anyone who wants to be an au pair: make sure you are well aware of what you are getting into and make sure you are prepared for it; ask questions and don't be afraid to say no or to let the family know that you are not okay with the circumstances they are setting. I should probably take my own advice on that matter. I did try to tell the father on the phone last night that I was having trouble sleeping. Maybe I was flustered, tired, or maybe I just can't speak French despite the fact that I've taken 5 years of it in school, but he just kept repeating himself over and over again until finally I gave up and said that I was sleeping well. I feel completely hopeless and alone and I have no idea how to resolve this very very big problem. I want to go home so badly. For now, I will settle for a cup of tea. But I have officially given up the "everything is going to be perfect mom and dad" facade. I am weak. Je sais.

Bonjour!

I arrived in Trans-en-Provence last night around 8. The trip from Sacramento was long and exhausting totaling more than 24 hours including driving to Sac International and to la maison from Nice. I was very tired. Actually, I still am. I hardly slept last night but I did get a little nap in this morning and I might try to sleep again this afternoon.
It is beautiful here except for the cold. Right outside the house there is a wilderness area! I intend on going on some adventures once the sun comes out. According to weather.com, Saturday will be a sunny 54 degrees. It is warm inside the house-- 26 degrees Celsius. But unless I have the light on, everything is dark. It is daytime now but with the outside cloud cover it might as well be late evening.
My French skills are incredibly rusty. I have no idea how I managed top marks in high school. It might just be that I am so nervous and tired and admittedly a bit of a hermit. If that is the case, I know I will open up eventually and it will get better.
I miss almost everything about California. My friends and family, the amazing water, the sun, everything that is automatic, shower curtains, etc. I have to admit though, all this manual stuff (the cars, the stove, the shower) makes so much more sense and is so much more efficient. It's just a little inconvenient for someone who is used to microwaves and falling asleep in the shower.
I am slowly settling into being here although I feel extremely out of place now. In 8 months I'm sure I'll be a pro at all things French. But until then I need to try and let go of the California in me