Inadvertantly on the Orient-Express! or, why I'm not having children for another ten years at least...
Salutations,
First, a note on the previous entry: my assumption is that Ron & Co. were doing pre-production for The DaVinci Code, which supposedly begins proper filming in May (with Tom Hanks). That would make some sense. Other note to Beth: ick! never that Opie! I hate that my mind will go there now!
Now, a sum-up to my weekend, which seems to have been a lot warmer and less snowy than most of y'alls! After my wonderful Wednesday in Paris, walking the Champs Elysees, taking in the city from the top of the Arc du Triomphe, and enjoying the most sumptuous macarons ever - thank you for the recommendation, Betsy, at Le Duree (also on the C.E.), followed by a brief interlude of conference and then my evening with Ron Howard, I was a good doo-bee and spent the next two days attending speeches, panels, schmoozing and making nice. Then Friday evening, I set out for Stuttgart to go visit my friend Cristen (from Delaware) and her 5 month old baby.
After evaluating several options - planes, trains, and automobiles, the most economical was to catch a train from Paris to Stuttgart - an unappealing 6 hour journey, but most direct at least. So, I asked the conceirge for the schedule, and after he sent me to the wrong station, the nice lady at Gare du Nord issued me a ticket for the next train out - from Gare l'Est, a 15 minute slag of baggage away. I was scooting down the platform looking for the correct 2nd class, hopefully non-smoking, wagon - and finally was directed to hop on one with the sign "Orient-Express" - calling, ultimately, in Vienna. How cool is that! I got on and the announcer kept calling it Orient Express in French and German and it just, well, tickled me. As I understand, they now have a cheesy fake version with white tablecloths and wood panelling designed to evoke the era of great train travel, but my line was the original - if you trace the lineage of this train route back more than a hundred years...kick ass. Once I got over that, however, it was a fairly laid back affair - not very crowded, and I could read and listen to my mp3 player and doze in peace until arriving in Stuttgart at midnight.
At which point I called my friend to tell her I'd arrived and was hopping in the taxi to head for the military barracks they live in - and she tells me that her baby has a 103 degree fever - her first real cold. Now, first I do recognize: poor baby girl! she was coughing and sneezing and couldn't breathe and was a bit freaked out. So were mom and dad - must be scary to have a little person that you are responsible for keeping alive. BUT all the freaking out led to a very long night of no sleep for mom and me - maybe 20 minutes of dozing here and there, but, man! The screaming - the fussing - the wiggling - the general unhappiness! Were I the mamma, I really might have just put her in her crib in another room and let her go to town. "All you wanna do is cry and nothing we do will make you stop? Fine! Have at it then! See what good it does!" Lucky for baby, Cristen is a much more sensitive soul than I (does it come with being a mother? I would assume so, but cannot be sure.) Thus, I do believe this is a sign that I am not fit yet to be a parent.
The good news was that after a normal night's sleep Saturday night, everyone was in a much better mood on Sunday, and we went to brunch (yum!) and a nice walk downtown looking at the palaces and theaters and shopping district. The baby was all cute and gurgly and loving me during the day - smiling and laughing and making big wet kisses on my face. Then I was thinking - well, maybe this isn't so bad...these little people are cute!
But then I saw breast pumping...
