One of my favorite Colette positions.

The squatting monkey.

Age appropriate.

A little visit to our favorite shop and John made Marguerite's eyes shine. Who has horses like this? Only one man in this city.

And for Pork Chop, Xavier found contrasts that make her eyes wider than they should probably get at this age...can staring to this degree be healthy? (Xavier pointed out the flexion in her foot here - shows the intensity).

Tulips and a sling.

Are these tulips for real? It was an NYC promenade of tulips and their blaze overawed me.

What else has been making life grand lately? The sling my sister Julie made for me. It makes little Colette a portable packet (a quiet packet too - she sleeps like a wee cherub the minute she is properly bundled) and all the streets of the city are mine again. (We were temporarily estranged, New York and I, when I was certain Colette would catch some strain of hepatitis on the subway and that we would definitely risk baby upset and much worse by wandering too far from home. [No, I did not expect any of that - evolutionary powers are stronger than I ever acknowledged]. That was month one. Now I am feeling pretty normal again. The subway isn't dicey...and Colette can basically be fed anywhere. New York + babies is viable. People love babies).

Peau d'Âne & Cotelette.

Magical moment. To walk into Marguerite's room to find Peau d'Âne sitting there, ho-humming away. And then we have little Cotelette (as we like to refer to her = cutlet, lamb chop in French) just wasting away the days, lying about, waving her fists - all 10 pounds of her (80th percentile in weight - she gained 3 pounds her first month. Her French father is concerned. Her American mother is bragging).

My family...

The others still need to meet her, but about half have now come to breathe in the folds of little Colette's neck.

One month.

Heliotrope.

Sisters.

We have been waiting for this moment since Colette was born - the arrival of sa grande soeur, Marguerite. It is official: they like each other.

My mama.

Colette's birth and the post-birth experience have been denaturing for me. I mean, I've been changed - down to a cellular level. I guess that is it - a baby changes you fundamentally and being changed like that is incomprehensible until a head is coming out of your body and then the thing that was inside of you is suddenly a creature in your arms. (She is a creature - almost a baby, but not quite yet. No one really made that clear about newborns before she came). This creature made me cry every time I looked at her the first week (= love so fierce I couldn't take it). The second week, she made me worry with every grimace and howl. I have always been a care-free person - to the max, but I suddenly found myself hunting online for the disease that must be afflicting my little baby (= gas) and calling my pediatrician for her opinion (= baby Colette does not have colic or any deadly diseases).

My mom arrived and brought me assurance and confidence that has healed me. I was still dealing with the emotional pain of a traumatic delivery and my baby dismay was probably the expulsion of some of that. When she says Colette is perfect, I believe her and not just because she had eight babies. She looked at her, took her in her arms, and I knew she knew exactly what happened to me when Colette came and changed me.

The Park.

Colette's kisses.

Colette loves to give kisses (no mind that it is actually just the newborn reflex rooting).

When we go outside for a walk and Colette is asleep, she squeaks when the wind blows.

(Photo credit goes to Xavier, who has a knack for noticing those tiny baby postures and details that are so infatuating).

Sequestered.

Occupy Wall Street? The French take proletariat strife to new levels. Recently, in a French company, exasperated workers just locked the boss up. It is apparently a trend among disgruntled French workers (at FNAC, Siemens, Caterpiller, Molex). I love the title of one article analyzing the subject in Le Monde: "Les séquestrations de patron sont-elles "efficaces"? (Is boss confinement "effective"?) In clear doubt is how the term "effective" is being employed (or better, why?). I appreciated Xavier's take on the approach when he read the article and chuckled: "Don't they get it? A poorly performing CEO or boss should be kicked out, not retained." Sacrés Français.

Our street this week...

Looks like this.





My house looks like this.