Labor Day

Dear Peach:
Tomorrow you will be 12 years old. How we got here so quickly, I have no idea, but you will forever be the Buddah Baby of your infancy to me. The baby with the quick smile, the unwillingness to sleep except in my arms, the silly little girl with a Cheerio stuck to your chin, or the toddler who wouldn't go to sleep until I sang at least 5 songs to you.

You've grown up so much this year - suddenly, you're nearly as tall as I am, you've developed a social poise that I didn't know you had and you've discovered boys. You've become someone whom I would choose as a friend, someone I respect and admire. You've worked really hard in school, both at academics and friendships.

While I know you want a cell phone, makeup and a ride to the mall, just know that you will always be my baby. My firstborn. The one we made all the mistakes with, the first miracle of our marriage. The one who had enough baby clothes for 10 babies, the one who scared us more than anything we had ever encountered.

Now you're nearly a teenager! My mama-bear instincts are still just as strong, but I trust you and your newborn judgement. You're smart, savvy and not at all afraid to go out into the world and make your place in it.

I love you more than anything else in the world. I would do anything for you if I thought it would make your life better.

And sometimes I like to go in your room at night to see you sleep, sweet as the baby who came home from the hospital with the bluest eyes and the sweetest smell..... and then I think to myself "she really needs to cut those bangs....."

Love, Mom.

Music From Another Room

He's listening to The Who again. He gave up on them entirely 2 Septembers ago when he saw the show at the Garden and really didn't like it. He didn't like the new album at all, either. And so many of the Who-heads had gotten, well, impertinent.

But he's listening again. I think it comforts him. I think it speaks to the young man he once was. And that he's comfortable allowing that person to be spoken to again is very, very good.

Only love
Can make it rain
The way the beach is kissed by the sea
Only love
Can make it rain
Like the sweat of lovers
Laying in the fields.

I love you, Jeff.

10 Things I love about Paris

Sometimes, this job does have its perks. I was asked to speak at a conference of people who do what I do for a living. The hosts of the conference flew me over, put me up in one of my new favorite hotels and have basically treated me like... well... a conference attendee. This, to me, is paramount of royalty.

Paris is such a beautiful city. It has been a while since I was here, but it always feels, smells and sounds the same. Some of the sights have changed (there are too many Starbucks here, and okay, I like the sparkling Eiffel Tower) but Paris remains the same as it was the first time I came here in 1979.

Ten things I love about Paris (in random order):

1. The Pharmacies. A remarkable thing about Paris - it is filled with hypochondriacs. No, not really.... it is filled with people who have very, very good health care. People in France go to the doctor more than any other civilized country in the world. These doctors write prescriptions (okay, the French do have a penchant for pills). So there are pharmacies on every street. I'm not kidding, if you can find a pharmacy in Paris from which you cannot see another, I'll buy you a crepe and a glass of wine! With the pharmacy comes the pharmacist. (S)He is everything from Nurse Practitioner to Jewish Mother. Advice (which always comes with the package), encouragement, guilt for overdoing it and taking 2 very long flights in 24 hours and not sleeping at all) and finally, medicines.

2. Scooters. I don't remember this as much about Paris as I do about other European cities, but EVERYONE drives a scooter! Those not on a scooter are on a motorcycle or bicycle. Is it the cost of gasoline or just that Europeans are greener than we are? It's fun to see a business man dressed to the nines popping along on his vespa.

3. The Louvre. I spent the WHOLE day there today. I did not get distracted by Musee d'Orsee, or any other attraction. I did what I said I would love to do for many years and spent the whole day there. I still only was able to enjoy about half of it.

4. The Eiffel Tower. Duh. Yeah, I know, it's obvious. But when I arrived at my hotel after a long flight, I swung open the windows of my hotel to see "where I was". There she was, in all her glory. La Tour Eiffel. And she took my breath away again. And I love the sparkles. I don't want to love the sparkles, but I do. So, okay, Mme Tour, you win. I like your bling.

5. Monoprix - think Parisian SuperTarget. But at about 1/10 the size. My new favorite place to "dine".

6. The Hotel Ambassador - I had never even heard of this hotel until this trip. It's a Concorde hotel, which is typically a very good choice, and it is delightful. From my windows (that open!) I can see the Opera House (the old one... there's a new, very modern one near Garde Norde. Ew.) and the Eiffel Tower. Within walking distance is Galleries Lafayette, Palace Vendome and the Louvre (Jardin Tuilieries, etc.), one Monoprix and 213 pharmacies. But only one with Bertrand, who was so supportive with my headache situation.

7. The Sacre Coeur. It peeked at me today when I was riding in a cab from the conference to my hotel. It said "hello! I am still here! Just like the first night ever when you were in Paris as a girl of 15, and you walked all the steps to greet me! I look the same as then, you do not!" So yeah, the Sacre Coeur is a little bitchy, but what French woman isn't?

8. The dogs. They're everywhere trotting faithfully aside their owners, waiting patiently outside of shops and cafes, and otherwise looking very happy. I have greeted more furbabies this week than in a month of Sundays.

9. The kitsch - there is a kitsch about Paris that no other European city has. The fringe, the sparkles, the ruffles.... it has it all. Strangely, though, French people lack the ability to laugh at themselves. Why is that?

10. Going home. After several days in Paris, it's always fun to go home to the safe comfort of my nest. Paris is such a busy, stylish, bustling city. I constantly feel that I need to be more stylish, do more, see more.... Plus, I miss my peeps in Plymouth! I'll be home tomorrow night! xoxo

San Francisco, with kids

The last time the Man and I were in San Francisco together, we were on our honemoon. April, 1989. Long time, and two lifetimes ago. This would be our triumphant return, if not a little hesitant one. Hesitation due to the fact that we had decided to bring our two lifetimes with us this time.

On the way to the airport, I picked up a copy of Frommer's San Francisco with Kids. I cannot recommend this book enough. Seriously. From places to go for great ice cream, to places NOT to go, because they're overrated, or just can't work with kids, this guide has proven to be a gem.

Today was a highlight day. We took a tour on an antique fire engine that took us over the Golden Gate Bridge, through the Presidio, through Pacific Heights and Cow Hollow and back to the Cannery. It was 72 minutes of sheer, unadulterated (albeit a little windy!) fun. Marilyn and the Captain, a 60-something couple, are your hosts. She sings and tap dances, he mugs and drives. If you're in SFO, and have kids (or just enjoy a good fire engine), this is a must see.

We also went to Alcatraz today... it was my first time there. I have been to the Bay Area at least 20 times in the course of my career, but have never, ever been to Alcatraz. It's very cool - and the audio tour is excellent.

Tomorrow, we're off to the East Bay to see friends, and enjoy some shopping in Berkeley.

Even the very bershon 12-year-old has pronounced this trip "cool". She smiled once, too. I'm considering it a victory.