Dear son,

I’m sitting here drinking my morning tea (morning, ha, it’s currently 11am, did I mention you are a very nice baby?) and watching you putter around on your new tapis d’eveil from Doudou et Compagnie (I’m still not sure if you like it or not, you are still not crazy about being on your back, and you alternate between laughing and frowning at the toys hanging above you), and thinking about the weekend.

On Saturday, your papa sent me off to the grands magasins alone with his credit card. You see, you need autumn clothes and I need clothes, and I’ve been wanting to get you a few items, such as aforementioned tapis d’eveil, for a while now, as well as a wood toy from Nature et Decouvertes, but it’s a bit hard to do a successful shopping trip with a baby in tow, even if Galeries Lafayette does have this fantastic baby care station, behind Jacadi in the children’s department, that has chairs and footrests, changing tables, a microwave, rocking horses, toys, all with a splendid view of the rooftops of Paris. But even so, it’s hard to dash around with a stroller, plus you need topping up every couple of hours, so we decided that Papa would spend time with you and I would jet to the shops for shopping.

So I left with nary a small brown Longchamp purse in the crook of my arm and darted swiftly down the steps of the metro, dashing in the doors of a train as it was pulling out of the stop, and I put my iPod speakers in my ears, and felt weird. It occured to me, that the last time I took the metro all by myself, with just a handbag and my iPod, was Friday 5 June, when I crossed Paris from the thirteenth arrondissement up to Levallois-Perret, to the British Hospital, to what I thought would just be a routine prenatal checkup, but which I didn’t end up coming home from until eleven days later, with a baby on my hip. It was the early days of summer, and I was listening to a summer playlist I had made, with De La Soul “Sunshine”, Sublime “Summertime”, Blind Melon “No Rain”, Jurassic Five, etc. I had thought I would be listening to this playlist often in the weeks to come, but it turned out to be the last time I listened to it on the metro, as I don’t think it’s such a hot idea to listen to earphones when you’ve got a teeny baby that needs your attention.

So I ended up loading the list and listening to it on my way to the grands magasins. It’s still technically summer after all.

I bought you some pjs from Petit Bateau, and a couple of shirts for me, and a wooden toy, and the tapis, as well as some little booties with rattles in them, and a book,  and I stopped in Starbucks for a decaf macchiato. That’s another place I haven’t been to in a while as ironically I find Parisian cafes more stroller-friendly than Starbucks, and plus it annoys me that they don’t allow dogs. I also picked up on a whim some dark purple toenail polish, after being inspired by this boho mom with her nose ring and dreadlocks, which suit her very well I think but isn’t my thing per se, but I was in the mood for something that reminded me of when I used to dye my hair and dress in vintage 1940s dresses. And since I used to paint my toenails dark purple all the time, that is what I decided on. Not that dreads and purple toenails are by any means the same thing, but sometimes a little toenail polish can go a long way. They make me feel a bit less serious about myself everytime I look at my feet.
These days, it’s all about the little things.

And you had fun with your papa, and spent some alone time with him.


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