To me, the morning walk is filled with loud noises and annoying people. To my son, the morning walk is just about the coolest thing ever.
I look up every five minutes, amazed I have this much time to myself. And I realize that I kind of, almost, a little tiny bit, miss the noise.
I’ve lived in France for nearly 10 years and my son could probably hold a more coherent business meeting than me.
I hated myself for feeling how I did. I would love a boy as much as a girl. Maybe I was just disappointed because the doctor had delivered the news so abruptly? Or maybe I was just being hormonal.
Each day I thought, “Today’s the day I’ll start exercising.” But when your days blur into nights and you have no more than 10 minutes at a time to yourself, how are you supposed to work out?
By Vicki Lesage. Seven years of living in Paris had been filled with wine, cheese, and late nights that turned into early mornings.