Aron and I had been talking about returning to Paris for years. For some reason, despite many visits as a couple living on the West Coast, we never made the trip once we lived on the East. By the time the opportunity arose, I was pregnant. And nothing sounded sadder than a trip to Paris (with its incredible wine, raw cheeses, and its laundry list of pregnancy taboos—like foie gras and steak tartare) while expecting. (You might recall that I faced similar dilemmas in Montreal, albeit the kind that that no one should really ever complain about.)
In hindsight, it might have been easier to travel to Paris while pregnant than with a toddler. Either involves some sacrifices, some compromises (to put it more glass-half-full)—the toddler perhaps more.
And here’s where I should learn to heed my own advice: Just go!
So to start…
I want to tell you the secret, magic tricks to having the perfect vacation in Paris—ah, Paris!—with a toddler. I really do. I just have to be honest: there was a night at dinner when Aron and I, albeit proud of our well-behaved son who was licking herbed butter off of escargot shells, agreed that if someone asked us whether to choose to go Paris with a two-year-old, we might say “non.” Keep Reading >
Our hearts are full with love for this sweet boy (in case you hadn’t noticed). All of the clichés about it getting better are true, and though the passage of time can seem bittersweet (too fast, too fast!), we couldn’t be happier to wish Hudson a very happy birthday today.
The photos above were taken in his first days and at 18 months, though the last time I posted a monthly photo with full details was at one year. I look forward to taking another photo for the series this afternoon—and hopefully sharing a full post next week.
We happened upon this charming food stall while in the Jardin du Luxembourg, in Paris this spring.
I was so impressed with how it all came together—all the atmosphere of the most charming bistro—and then just, poof, disappeared. You never would have known what lay behind those tightly drawn shutters. I regret not stopping for a soupe a l’oignon.
Oh, and don’t you love the universality of the scooter these days? I assume the mother with the babe in arms has another child out of the frame, but you can never be too sure.
