Father of the Year : france

An Absolutely Amazing Vacation

Trey — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 13:58:00 GMT

Though we were only gone for a two weeks, it felt like months. We all needed it. We're of course close, the three of us, but in Paris, and then in the South of France we were inseparable. It was hard to show them my favorite city in just four days but I tried. Besides the Eiffel Tower we took a bateau mouche along the Seine river and of wandered through Notre Dame...

Here are the kids out front. They haven't seen "The Hunchback of Notre Dame" yet but now want to:

What I will remember most about these two weeks, however, is how much we played together. On the beach we swam together or played paddle ball and I have to say that they would spend hours playing and giggling with each other allowing me to sneak off and write a bit.

I realize times are so hard and a lot of people are canceling their vacations but really think the rest of the year is too hard without a great summer treat.

How about you? Are you getting away this summer? You deserve it.

I'm Such a Cry-Baby

Trey — Mon, 14 Jul 2008 11:59:00 GMT

These almost two weeks here in France, just the kids and I, have brought us even closer. We are hardly ever out of each other’s site and I must say it’s been wonderful. Yesterday was the huge Bastille Day fireworks on the beach, four barges worth in the bay. We sat in the sand with hundreds of French and tourists, and watched the show (which started at 11:30pm. It doesn’t get dark till ten.) It was easily one of the most spectacular fireworks shows I’d ever seen. They’re nuts about fireworks here in France. Even on your birthday cake they stick in a roman candle.

What I also love about it here is how safe I feel for the kids. I was up in the village borrowing some wifi and the kids were complaining about how boring it was waiting for me. Ava asked, “Can’t we just go home by ourselves?” It hadn’t occurred to me but I thought about it and gave her the key. Watching the two of them march down the hill to our tiny little room all alone, rose vineyards and the Mediterranean glistening in the distance, I had to breathe so I wouldn’t cry.

I wonder if we’ll ever be closer than we are this summer. Maybe not. They haven’t made any friends this year so it’s just been the three of us. Our own tiny little team.

I think our closeness now will make it easier to start really blending my family with Amanda’s when we get back. Chet especially, needs to be reassured that he’ll always be my boy.

Special Guest Blog from My Girlfriend

Trey — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 09:23:00 GMT

It’s hard to feel bad for your boyfriend when he’s vacationing in the south of France, without you. I know he is missing me as he lounges on the beach with the kids, but the swell of sympathy just isn’t there. Plus my daughter and I are staying in his apartment, and I just stumbled across an underwear-only picture of his last girlfriend who also happens to be vacationing in the south of France. Get this, she met T for coffee in NYC a couple of weeks ago (while I was watching the kids) and asked if he wanted to fool around. He says they’re friends and throwing away the picture seemed “mean.” Maybe I’m overly sensitive because cheating was involved in my divorce. But T and I both have ex partners who are in our lives because of our children- and I say, that’s enough- it’s crowded in here. Am I asking too much?

Do you have ex’s as friends?

T invited M and I to France but we couldn’t afford the airfare and I’m doubled up teaching (remedial writing classes) this month.. Usually I work a lot but squeeze it in throughout the day, teaching odd hours, writing odd hours (writing-for-hire of the parents and women’s mag elk), and eternally working toward this or that degree. Chet, Ava and “Ava’s Daddy” (as M calls him) have been great at distracting M so I’m not a one-woman show.. Now we miss them! M literally looks under objects in the apartment searching for Chet.

Since I also write for a living, you might think I’d understand T’s blogging, but I don’t. I write about my personal experiences in articles, but I pore over what to include, what to leave out. The blog feels more intimate and immediate, like a public diary, disclosing info before I do. For instance, my mom called to ask: “So you’re leaving hair in his bed. Is that a good idea?” I also don’t know how long he can keep up blogging about the kids. T recently unblocked the computer to give them access to more sites and Chet excitedly showed me the google results when he punched in his dad’s name. He also tried typing in: “Trey’s girlfriend.”

"Papa, I Love You"

Trey — Mon, 07 Jul 2008 14:49:00 GMT

With the dollar so pathetically low I seriously considered not taking the kids to France this year. That was one of the very nice things about Ethiopia, it’s still a place where a dollar goes a long way. Here in Europe a dollar’s more an historical artifact than currency. But still, since I was flying us three over on miles and staying with friends I figured it was actually cheaper to go than to put the kids in some sort of day camp for a few hours each day so I could work. The day camp here on the beach in St. Tropez is surprisingly reasonably, about 15 euros a kid for a half day. That’s about $20. Manhattan child care is a heckuva lot more pricey. And the kids get to play soccer and ping pong and trampoline right on one of the world’s prettiest beaches.

Try as I might, they still don’t speak much French. They know how badly I want it for them and that’s exactly why they are so reluctant to try and speak. Ava, especially, has a pretty great vocabulary and a super ear but she’s soft-spoken even in English. In French she is absolutely inaudible. Despite all that I’ve drilled them with, “Je m’appele Ava et J’ai dix ans. Tu veut jouer avec moi?” (“I’m Ava and I’m ten years old. Would you like to play with me?”) We’ll see if she or her brother have the guts to ever say it.

Chet knows me too well. He was getting on my nerves, over stimulated and leaping over every and any obstacle that came our way even the ones in the middle of village traffic. I was just about to punish him when he said, “Papa?” like a proper little French boy. “Papa, I love you.” I shut my mouth and just let the warm feeling wash over me.

I’m such a cheap date.

And I promise to send photos but I've forgotten to bring the cable to upload from my camera. I'm working on it though.