Travel

Maisie and I are really sick. I have yuck in my throat and we are both coughing like crazy. We are also both grumpy and tired. Justin and I keep saying that it wouldn’t be Paris unless one of us were sick. It seems like our last year here someone was always sick. I guess that’s just life. So today I called Justin to see how the packing of our things were going (he went out to the countryside to pick up all our junk to bring it back to the city and either sell it or get it ready to ship back to the states). Justin told me that he had some bad news. Some of our stuff had been ruined while being stored. Rats. Or squirrels. Or something gross like that had decided to make a home in our things. Maisie’s little Moses basket (pictured below) has become…

Let’s just start this off by saying that if you can avoid traveling overseas with a one year old, then do it. Ew and a half. It makes me feel gross just thinking about it. I wanted to drug Maisie up so bad, but I didn’t. Just a little baby Tylenol for her teeth that are popping through. The flight was gross. She screamed for a while (which is a first for her). The only thing that stopped her crying was nursing. Ouch. There is only so much a nursing woman (whose child is almost weaned) can take before she feels like her boobs are going to fall off right then and there. But it was either nurse to the point of numbness or let her scream and disturb all the sleeping people. So my nipples paid the price for the sake of all to sleep. All but me. Paris…