The voice of worry.

Once again, as part of Josie's writing workshop at Sleep is for the weak, I have chosen prompt #3: What have the voices in your head been telling you lately.

- So he wants to have her overnight, eh?

- I know but she keeps telling me she doesn't want to, she doesn't like going up there.

- She told him she wanted to.

- But she tells me the opposite.

- Who do you believe then?

- I believe her, I want to believe her.

- Why does he say that then?

- I don't know. Maybe she says that to him and the opposite to me?

- Maybe... So she's lying then?

- She is not lying. She's caught in the middle.

- So what are you going to do?

- I can only take her word for it. If she tells me she doesn't want to, I won't make her.

- You know what's going to happen then, don't you?

- I do, yes. Back to that dreaded place.

- That could swing his way. Like it has, most of the time.

- I know, but I don't want to force her to do something that will make her unhappy.

- What about asking the question, in front of him and let her answer what she really feels?

- That's an option, I don't want her to feel uncomfortable though. I don't want her to feel like she's being asked to chose.

- At the end of the day, it's about her not you and not him.

- I know. I would hate for her to say she does, but I would have to go with it.

- Did you talk to her?

- I did. I explained that, if she wanted to, I would ask in front of him.

- What did she say?

- She said she wanted me to do it and that she would be able to tell him then.

- Able to? Does she fear him?

- She might. I'm sure she remembers his temper.

- What if she says she wants to?

- If she does, I'll arrange it.

- Are you sure she's not going to say that she doesn't want to go because she doesn't want to hurt you?

- I told her many times that the only thing that matters to me, is for her to be happy.

- Is he going to accept if she says no?

- Probably not. If he doesn't, then it will prove that he is doing it for himself not for her.

- What are you going to say then?

- I'll tell him that I had thought about what he said the other day, and that the best way to know is to ask her because it's about her, not him, not me. She's the priority. Then ask her. If she says yes, then we can talk and arrange it. If she says no, then we'll have to see what his reaction is.

- He will say that you coached her to say it.
- He probably will. But I know in my heart, I didn't. If anything, I pushed her to say yes. I pushed her to tell us that she wanted to. That it wouldn't hurt us, or make us sad. Reassured her that if that was what she wanted then it would make us happy to see her happy. She hasn't budged though.

- Would she keep saying no if she wanted to say yes?

- I don't think she would. She doesn't know how to lie. I know her, she couldn't keep that up for that long.

- Is it the right solution though? Putting her on the spot?

- What do we have to lose? If she agrees with the idea and she is comfortable with it, why not?

- Are you sure you are not going about it the wrong way and creating some kind of psychological problem?

- I hope not. She says she wants to be asked. She says she misses us when she's up there. Is that not creating some problem, too?

- She's only 6. What would she know about what she wants?

- She is 6 but she knows her own mind. Why can't other people see that it is about her, not anybody else. Why do they keep saying she's too young to make up her mind? She isn't. In other countries, they would ask her even at that age.

- What about you? Are you comfortable with the idea?

- I am and I'm not. I am if it stops there and he accepts her saying no, if she says no. I'm not because I know he is not going to consider her opinion, he is not doing it for her, he is doing it for himself. Remember his words? When do I get to see her? I. Not when does she get to see me?

- Are you worried?

- I am. Of course I am. I want her to be able to say what she thinks, what she wants, how she feels and not worry about the consequences. She is a child. I don't want her to be forced into doing something she doesn't want to. She does already. But she understands that I can't do anything about it. The decision was made for us, and we can only go along with it. My stomach is in knots, I have that permanent ball in my throat, I can hardly eat or drink. My head is spinning. My brain is overheating. The house is warm and yet I'm cold inside. My heart is beating hard, not fast, just big thumps. It will all unravel tonight. But there are so many uncertainties. It is not the end, it will probably go on, go back to that place and risk it all again. I might have to make her do something she doesn't want to, just because some powerful person will say so. But we will cross that bridge when we get to it, if we get to it. In the meantime, it all rests on today, this afternoon, on what she says and then we'll see...

- Indeed we will see... And then we can start it all over again, when it happens again, because you know as well as I do, that it is not going to stop, not yet anyway...

Seven things you never knew about me...

A meme is going around called 'My seven'. I haven't been tagged for it and I don't know if you're 'allowed' to do so but I decided to participate. I apologize if this is not the proper etiquette but it just appealed to me. But now that I am sitting down to write it, well, I have to say that I am struggling a bit.. Emmmm, let's think

1) I'm fluent in Spanish. I studied Spanish in school and college. One day, my parents and myself tried to figure out why I have such an ear for languages and we realized that when I was young, my great grand mother used to speak only german to me (she was german and, in hindsight, probably suffering from Alzheimer's or such). Now, I do not have a word of German, but she probably instilled that love of languages in me and gave me such an 'ear' that now people here don't believe me when I say I'm french.

2) I wear a size 3 shoes. I am small and my feet and hands are tiny. It's quite a struggle to find nice shoes to fit me. I'm not a big fan of the glittery runners and other types of shoes you can find in the kiddies sections. And the search for an engagement ring was quite funny, the look on the jeweller's face when I put my hand out was priceless.

3) When I was 16, I was an extra in a film called 'Ma saison preferee'. I had the pleasure of meeting Catherine Deneuve, Daniel Auteuil, Philippe Noiret and Andre Techine, four legends of french cinema. The scene was cut in the end but I still have the payslip to prove it.

4) I am allergic to soap. From a very young age, I have had to use various potions and lotions. My dear grandmother took me on holidays once, when I was about 5, and refused to listen to my mum's advice when it came to washing my face. So she scrubbed with a big bar of soap (as hard as only a grandmother knows how to). When my skin was so dry that it started cracking and bleeding, I think she got the point that it might be true and not just some kind of tantrum. It looks like Noelie has inherited my skin condition too. Her skin is extremely dry and nothing short of diping her into the pot of cream all day long seems to relieve her dry skin.

5) I have 2 tattoos. One is a celtic symbol for eternity and the other one a chain of cherry blossoms. Mr Foodie has 4 himself and I decided to offer him another one for his birthday last year. So off we went to the tattoo artist. As there wasn't enough time for him to get the one he picked done, I got one instead. He is still waiting on his birthday present (ooops).

6) I talk in my sleep. To the point where I played Trivial Pursuit with my best friend while asleep, or asked my then boyfriend if he had seen a cow pass by. Apparently, my eyes were open too which makes it even spookier as I have no recollection of saying that whatsoever. I mean what would a cow be doing in my house? Oh and I managed to give out to Mr Foodie while asleep. Noelie has started babbling in her sleep too.

7) I have a phobia of lizards. They're wriggly and slimy and their tail grows back if it's cut off. That is not natural!!! I think I was traumatised by the series 'V' when I was younger. Mr Foodie was delighted that it made a come back last year but I put my foot down, not with me in the same room!!!

So there you are, seven things you didn't know about me. Feel free to gatecrash this meme if you want!

X
Foodie Mummy

My 10 Favourite things

First and foremost, a big thank you to Working Mama at Last of the mojitos for the tag. I can't believe that less than a month ago I had never been tagged, and this is now my third one.

This meme reminds me of a book I used to have, one of the many books I had to leave behind and never recovered. It is a french book by Philippe Delerm, a collection of 35 short stories, of no more than 1 or 2 pages each, all about The small pleasures of life (incidentally this is the translated title of this book, when the original french version is called La premiere gorgee de biere et autres plaisirs minuscules. In other words, the first sip of beer and other small pleasures). It also reminds me of the beginning of the film 'Amelie' (another translated title, but then again who, in their right mind, would go and watch a french film called 'The fabulous destiny of Amelie Poulain'). I think that we (by we, I mean French people) are somewhat experts at this, little pleasures, I think it is in our nature and culture. The French are often portrayed as people who know how to enjoy life and its little things (amongst other stereotypes). I often reflect on the little things that make me happy. So here is my (non exhaustive and in no particular order) list.



1- Watching my girls playing together. Noelie has developed a fascination with her sister lately. She will do anything to get a laugh out of her. She also has started to sit up and Marie seems to be less afraid of playing with her (not to mention, that it is a lot more comfortable).

2- The smell of freshly brewed coffee in the morning. Not instant coffee (that smells more like some kind of dirty socks having brewed overnight, tastes like it too). We bought a monster of a coffee machine recently and it just makes the best coffee. And it fills the house with the most wonderful smell.

3- Sitting outside and feeling the sunshine on my face. It doesn't have to be for long, just a few minutes are enough to recharge my batteries.

4- Having a long hot bath, with a good book and a nice glass of wine and topping up with hot water after a while (candles optional). The most relaxing experience.

5- Watching a film with all the family. We tend to do this on rainy Sundays. Mr Foodie in his chair, Marie with me on the sofa under a nice cosy blanket. Mr Foodie and I are big film lovers and we want to pass this on to the girls.

6- A walk with the family on a nice, sunny, cold and crisp winter day. I already wrote about this in a previous post but there is nothing like wrapping everybody warm and heading out. And nothing better than coming back into the warmth of the house afterwards.

7- The smell of an old book. As a girl, I used to love reading (and still do) and I used to raid my grandmother's library anytime I got a chance. Some of her books were quite old, the pages yellowed by time. When opened, that smell would draft from them, musty, ink and old paper.

8- Getting into a nice warm bed on a cold night or alternatively, getting into a nice cold bed on a hot night (although it very rarely happens here that the nights are so hot that you can't bear to sleep with any covers on whatsoever).

9- Sitting at the terrasse of a french cafe, watching the world go by. One of my favourite pastimes. I could sit there for hours, sipping coffee.

10- Cooking and baking of course. The smells, the tastes, the textures and the sense of pride and pleasure that comes with seeing the plates emptying in silence. Not because we have nothing to say or are just to hungry to talk, but because it's so good that everybody is engrossed in just that, the taste, the smell, the textures...

And so many other favourite things that I haven't listed but are equally up there, little things that make life beautiful (and more bearable at times). I will now pass this meme onto the following great mummy (and daddy) bloggers:

• Josie at Sleep is for the weak


• Tim at Bringing up Charlie


• Jen at The king and eye


• Young Mummy at Young and Younger


• And last but not least, Northside mum

Happy blogging everyone!


X

Foodie Mummy

Thank you...

This week, I chose the following prompt from Josie at Sleep is for the weak : Write something to say thank you to some who has made a difference to your life, whether from your past or present.

There are a lot of people I could say thank you to, but then it would feel like an Oscar acceptance speech, thank you Mum, thank you Dad, thank you Brother, thank you JD the hamster (RIP), thank you the World in its entirety etc.. (although I have to say Marion Cotillard's one for La Vie en Rose was great!).

So here goes:

I barely knew you, yet I trusted you.

Work colleagues, were me and you.

Same company, different location.

Had never met you, but a friendly connection.

You listened to me pouring my heart out,

Telling you how I couldn't see a way out,

That I was trapped and I was scared,

That my little girl too was there.

Your kind and friendly words gave me strength,

I realized it couldn't go any more length.

The time had come to make a decision,

We had to get away from all of this poison.

And so I said: That is it!

Then you, or I, suggested we meet.

It was a sunny day and you waited for me,

sitting on a step, yet I could not see.

You were there when things turned violent,

And you became my shoulder to cry on.

And things just moved on from there,

Secretly at first, then out in the open air.

Marie took to you like a fish to water.

You accepted her as your own daughter.

Your bond is such she calls you Daddy now,

And, me? Well, I could not be more proud.

Then we found out we were pregnant.

I couldn't have received a better present.

Our little bundle of joy arrived,

And of love, she'll never be deprived.

I know, at times, I can be difficult and moody,

but it never lessened your love for me.

You, too, sometimes are a bit crazy.

I'm afraid to say some of your jokes are not so funny.

You are my knight in shiny armour,
My best friend, my companion, my lover.
We did go through a lot together,
Yet those hard times just made us stronger.

So for being there for us, then and now,

for the future and for the present,

for the support and strength you give me,

I really want to thank you, Mr Foodie.

Love always.

Foodie Mummy.

I cry

Today I broke down, in tears not once but twice. Now, if you ask Mr Foodie, he will tell you I cry... a lot. That's probably one of the things I'm best at. I cry in front of anything, movies of course being one of the biggest triggers. I cried the morning after seeing 'Schindler's list', over breakfast, while telling my parents about the film. I cry reading books, I cry listening to music (Raglan Road used to get me crying my eyes out when I was pregnant with Noelie, just the first measures and I was gone). I just cry. Not the one tear that rolls down your cheek cry. The big crocodile tears cry, heaving and all. I can't help it. It starts as a heaviness in my chest, then moves its way up to my throat. And once it gets to the eyes that's it, I'm gone.

Today I cried twice. Once explaining to Marie about the Haiti earthquake and all the devastation it caused. I told her that I gave some money to help people of there, to help give them food, water, shelter, medical help, whatever the meagre amount I could give would provide. And if it saves only one life, at least I did something. She said that she would give the contents of her piggy bank too, that she doesn't need it. I was so proud of her, it made me cry. I was crying for the people over there and I was crying at the beauty of Marie's gesture. She is very sensitive and started crying too. In fact, she started crying first. Is she too young to understand? I don't think so. Should I have left her to her ignorance? I don't think either. I think it is a good thing to get our kids to understand that there are people worse off than we are, and that, if you are in a position to, you should help them. Using words they can understand, without too much drama. But explain it all and let them make their own decision as to whether they want to help or not. And I believe in leading by example.

You see, Marie and I, to our developed world standards, have been in a position where we lost everything. At some stage in my life, I decided that possessions were not as important as our safety and our happiness. And I took Marie, and whatever I could carry and left it all behind. But I was always able to provide us with a roof and food and heat and water. Yes, I lost my house and my car and countless material things, sentimental things and she lost her toys and was uprooted. But some immaterial things are paramount. Anyway, this is all behind us and we have rebuilt our lives, thanks to Mr Foodie and others.

I also cried this evening, watching the french news. I have to point out that it was the french news, and not the Irish ones as the angle at which they approach the whole Haiti disaster is completely different. A lot of French people adopt children in Haiti. At the moment, there are between 1200 and 1500 files for adoption in Haiti by french parents. Those people are struggling to find out the fate of their children and pleading with the government to fast track the adoption process, remove the red tape so they can be brought to their new homes in France. It seems that this is now going to happen. Tonight, on the news, they visited a devastated orphanage. A little boy , Jerry, 3 1/2 years old, had been pulled out of the wreckage. He had a head wound and a broken leg and was lying on the dusty ground with no medical assistance whatsoever. The director of the orphanage told the journalist that she was going to give him paracetamol to bring the fever down, that there was nothing else she could do. The reporter (a woman might I add) was very professional and still you could hear in her voice that this was hard on her. She told the woman that the poor child was going to die. The director looked at her with a emotionless look yet a sad look and said that this was all she could do. She had lost 53 children so far to the deadly shaky ground. By chance, a team of civil defense members arrived, sent by the french embassy. One of them was a doctor but they had only been sent to check what the needs were and didn't know that there were injured children, and they had no medical equipment, no ambulance, no escort. They tried to get an ambulance, to no avail and the poor little boy's condition was getting worse. So they took a decision that might land them in trouble, they took the reporter's car and drove Jerry to the hospital. It was touch and go. That was yesterday. Today, the reporter visited Jerry at the hospital and the doctors told her that he was going to be fine. She managed to get people to contact his adoptive parents in France and it was the first news they had managed to get. I had to leave the sitting room. I went into the kitchen and broke down. And Mr Foodie was here once more to pick up the pieces. I'm fine now.. Just about...But we have to help, no matter how little we can give, it will make a difference.

Recipe Friday: Childhood Memory

I realized today that I haven't talked about one of my favourite things in a good while: Food. So I have decided to reinstate Recipe Friday.

During my parents' visit last week end, we ended up being snowed in (nothing new so far). So I spent a lot of my week end cooking for everybody (and to be honest trying to impress my mum with my cooking skills). On Sunday afternoon, after a snowball fight and the building a snowman, we decided to do a bit of baking for an afternoon snack. Marie and myself had baked some cookies on Saturday and had frozen 2 thirds of the dough for future use. So, in the oven, went the cookies. And in comes my mum. I have to say she is an expert at reusing leftovers and reinventing dishes. Although you might be eating the same ingredients two days in a row, it never feels like you are eating the same thing.

As the cookies are baking, she asks me: 'What are you going to do with that stale bread?'. Panic sets in: 'Emm, emm, I, emm, give it to the birds?'. Obviously, wrong answer. She says: 'Have you got some milk, one egg and some sugar?'. Staples, I mean, unless you're allergic who doesn't have milk, eggs and sugar?. 'Yes, I do'. 'Right, get out of the way, I'm going to make something you haven't had in years'. And how right was she. She produced in less than 10 minutes the most wonderful snack. She was right, I hadn't had it in years and why, oh why did I never make it before. It is so simple and tasty. And it brings back memories of winter Sundays afternoons, coming home after half freezing to death watching my dad play football. For a moment, after I took that first bite, I was 10 again. I only got to have one slice though, as Marie fell in love with it and ate the whole lot! The smell of vanilla, the crunch of the sugar on top, hummmm, so good I made some today, just for myself. And cheap as chips too. So here is my mum's recipe for making 'Pain perdu' (Lost Bread or French toast as it's called here). Well, I can tell you, it's not lost on us!!

- Slices of stale bread (a couple of days old)
- Some milk
- Some vanilla sugar (if you have some, normal sugar will do though)
- 1 egg.
(I am afraid my mum is as bad as I am with measures).

1) In a pot, heat up the milk and sugar.

2) In a large bowl, beat the egg.

3) Heat up a bit of butter in the pan.

4) Dip the bread in the warm milk (letting it soak up some of the milk but not too much or it will fall apart).

5) Dip it quickly in the egg.

6) Place on the pan.

7) Turn around when golden.

Sprinkle with some sugar before serving.

Eat hot or cold.

And there you are, Pain Perdu! Hope you get to try it, and love it as much as I and Marie do!

X

Foodie Mummy

Favourite photo meme

First off, a big thank you to the wonderful Working Mama at The Last of the Mojitos for tagging me for this meme!

People would probably expect a picture of myself or of my girls, or even the family but, not unlike Hot Cross Mum, as a rule, I do not want to put pictures of the girls on my blog (or even myself, wouldn't want to scare readers away now, would we!). The amount of pictures I have of the girls and the family would put Helmut Newton to shame (well at least in quantity, not so sure about the quality though).

My dad is photo mad. We are not talking mobile phone photo, we're talking proper photo, no digital cameras or automatic zooms or gizmos like these. Proper photo as in films (choose from colour or black and white), as in different lenses, as in coloured filters, as in around 1000 photos for a one week holiday in Italy. I remember some fair few years ago, when he used to turn the bathroom into his own dark room. You were either in from beginning till end or you were out from beginning till end. I remember him changing the light bulbs to those red ones, so that the pictures would develop correctly and blocking all light coming in from the window (funnily enough the only one in the whole house that doesn't have shutters). The equipment was put up. The his and hers sinks and the bidet (yes, we do have one of those, although never used for its intended purpose but rather to wash smelly feet and babies, not in the same water though), were filled with various chemicals. A line was put up over the bath to hang up the developed pictures. My mum had no interest and my brother was too small to stay around all those chemicals, so I would sometimes be allowed in to help (or get under his feet). I used to love that uninterrupted time I got to spend on my own with my dad, just watching him and discovering his beautiful pictures. As a child, it felt like such a long time without being able to open the door, in reality, I don't know how long it could have been. Maybe an hour or two at the most probably.

For his birthday last year, we offered him a gadget that allows him to transfer all of his negatives and slides (which are gathering dust in a press and get taken out just about once every 5 years) to his computer. He is retiring next year and this promises to be taking much of his time (that and playing golf of course). So I probably will have to wait for a similar meme to come around again sometime next year to pay a better tribute to his beautiful photographs.

In the meantime, this is the picture that graced my work computer for years. It is my mum and dad's back garden on a frosty morning. It reminds me of home and those childhood's winter mornings.

I would now like to pass the torch to another 5 fabulous bloggers and I can't wait to see what their favourite photo is:

• Mumtalk


• Celtic Mamma Chatter


• Taz


• Mandie Dempsey


• Northside Mum
  

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

X

Foodie Mummy.