How to properly de-shell a prawn on Easter Sunday

There are few things in life that really make my stomach churn-- not roller coasters, not blood, not even escargots (though I really don't like escargots). One thing that I really can't take though apparently, is pulling off the head of a prawn and watching all it's insides drip out onto my plate.

To be honest, I didn't even know I ordered prawns. Wild Gambas, I guess, is giant prawn.  I suppose that would be a lesson to not order something if you don't know what it is, especially if it costs 18euro. But I really didn't want anything else on the menu and it actually looked quite delicious at the beginning. Now, just thinking about the word prawn is making me a little queezy. Amazingly enough, I did manage to eat the entire plate which was rather large for French portions. The service at the restaurant was terrible though. They gave us the wrong check and when I went to tell them it was the wrong one, they told me to wait and then helped people who just randomly walked up. The waiter apologized but he didn't even look at me. I suppose that is quite French; customer service isn't exactly a priority. That said, they're lucky that tipping is not a French custom, if I was in the States and that happened, I definitely would not have left one.

So I actually still don't know how to properly de-shell a prawn. I looked it up online and apparently I did it right. I suppose that means I have some amount of common sense, surprise. But I probably should just not order shellfish unless I know they'll have been beheaded already.

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This past week has been the first week of the Spring Holidays. I was really nervous at first; the thought of spending all my time with the two little horrors was actually another thing that made my stomach flip over a bit. But from the first day, they were actually really wonderful. Everyday this week has been marvelous. We've been going on walks and picnics and playing red light, green light and making pretzels and going to amusement parks and they have been so sweet. Always saying please and thank you, telling me that they like me and that I'm their friend, and hardly fighting even with each other. I don't know what brought on this change but I like it. I hope it stays like this forever.

Easter Sunday was yesterday, but the kids had their easter egg hunt this morning for some reason. They got so much chocolate! And Matthew doesn't like chocolate, so when they finished he poured his entire basket into Thomas'. Thomas has promised to share with me, and by share he means give me all the chocolate he doesn't like (which was actually a significant amount). My unrefined american tongue says chocolate is chocolate. I actually can tell the difference between the quality (French/European chocolate just has more substance), but I will eat pretty much anything chocolate as long as it doesn't have almonds in it or isn't more than 70% cacao.

One more week of holidays to go and then I've only a month left! Christine's parents are here right now. They arrived on Saturday evening and will be staying through Tuesday or Wednesday. I don't remember why I liked them the first time I met them, because they've only been here two days and they're really annoying me. Oh well, they're harmless I'm sure. Off to bed after a superdeeduper weekend :) Bisous

it could always be worse

"You're too laid back and the kids don't like you. If you don't shape up we're going to have to get rid of you. The au pair is supposed to make the parents life easier and with Beke and Lotte it was easier. You just make everything difficult. So get it together or you'll be going home early," Nigel warned me Thursday morning. It's safe to say I've been in a right state ever since. I spent most of Thursday morning crying my eyes out and since then I've just been trying to be perfect.

But over the past few days, I've come to realize that there isn't really anything I can do about it. I am laid back. I like to think it's part of my charm. I have endless amounts of patience that are only tested when there's a time limit on how long something should take or when I'm getting beaten to death by a 4-year-old. I'm not a yeller or a hitter or a fighter by nature and it really takes a lot to bring out that side of me.

So I've more or less just started being myself and not worrying about whether or not the kids like me or whether I'm doing everything absolutely perfectly. They're either happy with me or they're not. If they want to get rid of me then they'll get rid of me and I will figure something else out. Because that's the only thing I can do at this point. However, sitting, waiting, wishing for things to get better isn't my way either. I'm still committed to giving this my all, or as much as I have left of it for as long as I am here.

three months

So it’s officially been three months, which means I can start counting down without feeling like it’s gonna be forever until I’m home. 7 weeks ‘til Ricky gets here, 8 weeks until we embark on our grand adventures (Barcelona, Pisa, Florence, Rome, Venice, and Paris) and 10 weeks until I’m back in my bed with Coco cat. I’m already thinking about what I’m going to miss—my new friends, the beaches, walking around Saint Tropez, visiting a new town every weekend, driving stick with that barefootwhilecoveredinsandmylooooooonghairdowngoingwildwiththewindowsdownsunsinkinginraybansonsinginginfrenchwiththeradioskinthecolorofaspankinnewcopperpennyinapril feeling, knowing that I can buy alcohol at the grocery store even though I never do, the fragrances of the Riviera (fresh bread at the boulangerie, lavender and mimosa, the Mediterranean), meeting people from other countries, learning German, helpful French people who don’t make you feel like a complete idiot, going to the market, eating glace at the port, watching the yachts, all the weird looking bugs, Vogue Paris for 5 euro (at home it’s 16$), swimming in the Mediterranean (it’s so different from the Pacific!), running and biking through the country and along the coast, bisou greetings and goodbyes, the hilarity of watching giant groups of teenagers greet each other(bisous pour tout le monde!), forgetting to speak English after 2 glasses of Rose, and the like. And the things I’m not going to miss: French animals (cats and dogs), French children, American tv shows and movies dubbed in French, McDo, Wednesdays, my French cell phone, mean French people, snobby French people, ignorant French people, racism, homophobia, French hypocrisy, not being able to watch certain videos online because they are not available in my area, when people burn things for no apparent reason, pollution, people who smoke, smelling like smoke for days after going out even though I didn’t smoke and took like three showers, getting sick after going out, annoying men, walking past ritzy shops and feeling incredibly uncool, days when I wake up and can’t speak a word of French, thinking in celcius/farenheit and euro/dollar ratios, supermarches (hypermarche or regular marche is the way to go), the scary looking bugs, French accented english, etc. See why my love/hate relationship with this country is so complicated?

Today was another Wednesday and a relatively good one at that, especially compared with last week. I had the kids in the morning while Christine did the grocery shopping. They spent the entire time putting me in “prison”, torturing me and trying to “electrocute” me with candles. They were amused at least. I went to sports with the boys and walked around Saint Tropez (comme d’habitude) while I waited for them to be finished. McDonalds for lunch and when we got home, Nigel had taken the pool cover off of the pool! We spent the rest of the day playing outside. Baths were pretty easy and Matthew still wanted to play with me afterwards!

Tomorrow, Nigel’s sister and nephew are coming. The nephew is 18 and is also named Thomas. I asked Christine why both Nigel and his sister named their kids Thomas. She said that she didn’t know Nigel’s sister at the time and Nigel didn’t even think about it. Apparently Nigel’s mother isn’t happy about it. Nigel’s nephew is staying for 6 months and he is going to be working with Nigel’s pool and garden company. I think it will be cool to have a guy friend to hang out with (if he wants to of course). The other au pairs seem to think so too. Beke had been telling them about it since before I even got here so it’s been a long time coming. I’ll of course only be here for another couple months, so they’ll have to figure out how to keep him around once I’m gone.

In the mean time, it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. It’s Saint Tropez, it’s almost summer, and while I can’t wait to get home, I’m focusing on making these next 7 weeks count.

Bisous

better things

Nothing is more frustrating than trying your best and still feeling completely incompetent.

Last Wednesday was a bit of a wake up call for me. By far, it was one of the worst days I've had in France. Second only to my last day in Trans. The kids were totally out of control and I put my priorities on cleaning up after them instead of actually watching them. Actually the day started out alright. We started setting up for a spectacle before going to Sports. Everything went downhill from there. Thomas broke his shoe, a semi-truck backed into me in the middle of Saint Tropez, I got a migraine, Thomas threw a tantrum because he didn't want ravioli for lunch, while I was cleaning up from lunch, the kids threw the entire contents of the living room behind the sofa, while I had been making lunch, Matthew put all the things from the spectacle in the shower and when I started cleaning up the living room, he turned the shower on, drenching all of his toys and soaking through almost every rug in the house. Then Christine came home and was very upset (who wouldn't be? the house was a disaster). She left again and I was stuck with my migraine, still cleaning up, trying to make sure the boys didn't tear anything else apart.

Since then, I've been trying my absolute hardest to be the best au pair ever. The only thing is, everyday something happens that confirms my belief that I am quite possibly the worst au pair ever. I know that it's probably not true, and I just take everything the boys and Christine say and do wayyyyy too personally, but it's hard. Back in the states, I'm so used to every child I work with whether it's at the pool, in child care, or babysitting practically worshiping the ground I walk on. They do whatever I say, they always are excited to see me and love to involve me in whatever they are doing. Here, it's the exact opposite. Maxime and Alexis were a little easier than Thomas and Matthew, but they still didn't really buy into me I think and it was really hard for me to be the doting compassionate creative loving child-watcher person that I usually am. Thomas and Matthew on the other hand are the worst. I could never have imagined kids to be like this, especially based on my previous experiences with kids (lifeguarding, swim lessons, child care, babysitting). They only want to involve me in something if it involves "killing" me or "making me fall asleep", but they spend most of the time just telling me how mean I am and how they hate me and I'm bothering them.

I swear if it wasn't for the location, I would have probably given up on this by now. Remember when I said that God needed to give me some sort of sign that there was a more heavenly place than here? Well he did, but it's right next door. Isabelle, the cleaning lady mentioned Cavalaire sur Mer in passing on Friday and I automatically said that I would check it out that day. Well I did, and after a few wrong turns that allowed me to really see the town in all it's beach-to-hills glory I can't imagine a more perfect place in the world. Cavalaire is located at the southern most point of the Riviera and has a beach that is 3km long! Since I've visited nearly all the beaches in the Saint Tropez area now, I feel quite confident in saying Cavalaire is the best of them all. Looking forward to more frequent trips there over the next couple months.

The other thing that is making this all worthwhile is my new friends! Luisa of course, and last weekend I met Kathy, an austrian au pair living in Les Isambres (a halfway point between Saint Tropez and Saint Raphael). At first she seemed a little hesitant to meet me. I think because some of the other au pairs have been saying stuff about me. But she warmed up right away and now she, Luisa, and I are really good friends even after only knowing each other for a weekend. We didn't even really do much to be honest. We met at the beach but it was way too windy to go swimming or even just sit. We made dinner at Luisa's place since her family was out of town for the weekend. Afterwards we went out to Port Santa Lucia and sat on the port for "pre-drinking". We ended up sitting there for four hours with our vodka and orange juice and rose. Then we got up and walked at least a kilometer to Saint Raphael where we tried to get in the ONLY discotheque without having to pay entrance. I dazzled the bouncers but the lady inside wouldn't budge. Tant pis pour nous. We ended up catching a taxi back to Luisa's.

I think with all the stresses of being an au pair it's important to connect with the others and create these bonds. It provides a healthy outlet and a good way to know if what is going on in your family is "normal". However, it seems that every au pair has her own woes and complaints about their families. You just have to get really lucky to get a family that you like the first time around or even at all. At least we have each other though.

At the end of the day it's not where you are it's who you're with. And even though this place is absolutely magical, if it weren't for these girls and the support I get from everyone back home, I don't know what I would do.