A happy little family.
Gabriel adores Olivia.
When Gabriel started to consume solids I would say,
"Mmm, mmm, mmm, yummy for the tummy."
Gabriel started to say this too, especially when something was extra delicious.
He refers to being hungry, or wanting something to eat as, "Yum".
When Gabriel first saw his mother he let out a giggle, nearly leaping out of his father's arms
to get to his mother and his sister. He was very aware that a baby was coming referring to her as Papilotte.
After he kissed the baby he said, "mmm, mmm, mmm." in the sweetest little voice.
My heart melted with tenderness.
Olivia
(In French it is pronounced with three syllables and in English four I am told.)
Eight pounds.
Born October 21.
Chelsea had a natural, easy, speedy (two hours plus) labor. Amazing.
Breastfeeding.
Nobody guessed name, date, weight, and hair correctly in the guessing game.
Though some of you did guess the name, and a few the date, even fewer the weight...
Original I thought Ophelia, 10 lbs, October around the full moon and no hair.
Hours old.
Thank you for supporting our family with love and kindness.
Overload to happiness.
Gabriel enjoys drawing: people, the sun, and flowers. After school at the park, he carefully describes his art to Olivia while she holds onto her banana halves.
Chelsea sent me this photo of the artist and his admirer.
We spent the day together, just him and me.
We frolicked in the cold outside. Looking at birds in the trees, playing in the sandbox at the park, pretending to be dogs and cows, never kicking a ball, and then late in the afternoon sitting at the counter having hot chocolate at the nearby cafe.
Gabriel wore his soccer outfit with peach-colored leggings underneath with pink and yellow sneakers. Mix and match, with a pastel scarf tied around his neck and a grey stocking hat, pulled over his eyes. I don't know how he could see. Chelsea wasn't feeling well this day, so I think he dressed himself as a darling ragamuffin.
We went to the cafe to have a drink and waited for his dad to pick him up. Gabriel was timid to sit at the counter, I thought about putting him on my lap, but I was nervous about the hot chocolate spilling, so I stood by him instead. The melted chocolate was served in a cup, and a silver creamer had hot foamed milk to add. Gabriel did it himself and never spilled a drop. What charm.
When his dad arrived, we went to say our goodbyes. I bent down on my knees to hug Gabriel; seeing he was sad, I asked what the matter was. He said, holding back tears, "I love you and don't want you to go." He buried his head into my neck, and we held close.
And there, in the pathway to the cafe, with people coming and going, we shared a hug that lasted an eternity. I closed my eyes and soaked every bit of it in.
We have been with family at the wedding of our nephew Jack. The internet connection has been the only hiccup, so our time together has been flawless, though my blog posts appear when they want to and not when I post them.
Olivia started walking while we stayed at our friend Janet's home.
So much happiness jammed packed in a day, not by anything big, but simply being with those I love.
Of course, Olivia's first steps were big, as we were all there to witness the moment.
Photos by Chelsea and me.
One year old.
Little Sweetheart.
Gabriel woke up happily, anticipating his first day at school. Giggly with excitement, he went through his morning routine without a hiccup. Checked the boxes with ease:
Breakfast,
Brushed teeth,
Got dressed...
The day before, he said to his mom,
“...you know at school I have to run and play.
Because I have lots of energy!”
Yesterday, in France, marked “La Rentree,” Mandatory Preschool (starting at three years of age) up to University. Chelsea, Papioca, Martin, and Gabriel walked around the corner to his first day of the school alongside students who were doing the same thing all over France.
Gabriel knows the path to school as he has frequently walked past it on his way to the park’s playground. He hopped and skipped, gleefully holding his parent’s hands as they headed towards his new adventure.
But when he arrived with the multitude of parents and children entering the school, his eagerness suddenly turned a corner.
As Chelsea told me, he screamed, cried, threw himself to the ground, and had to be coaxed, held, and reassured... It was the exact opposite of his morning dreams.
...
Chelsea sent a video after his first day of school;
Chelsea asked Gabriel as he sat on her lap,
“How was school today?”
With exburence, he said, “Good!”
“Did you have fun?”
“Oui”
“How was lunch?”
“Good!”
“Did you like your teacher?”
"Oui!"
“Was she nice?”
“Oui!”
“How were the other children?”
“Good!”
“Wow! A perfect day huh?!”
His demeanor changed.
Chelsea said, “Were you a little bit sad this morning?”
“Ummm, pas trop.” (Not too bad.)
“Pas trop?”
And with that, he drew her attention to something on the table.
The day came to an end; we went to say our goodbyes.
Hugs and kisses, full of thanksgiving, and memories tucked in.
Gabriel took my hand I bent down; he leaned in, kissed my arm, then said,
"Vavie, you can come to stay with me in Paris. We have many beds, but you can sleep with me. Okay, come!"
And that was the final cherry blessing on top of the delicious holiday in Ardeche.
Ah, three-year-olds. Talkative, loving, full of questions, energy, and frustrations, and soaking up everything at record speed, wanting to be with those they love all day long. Childhood is not wasted on me such a raw gift to be able to witness.
Gabriel was sitting on the couch, his little legs in a position I could not mimic, his hands on my knees as I told him stories of my dad. "My dad, named Vo, loved motorcycles. He had motorcycles to ride in the fields, on the roads, on uphills, and on racetracks," I leaned in close to Gabriel, "Vo would be impressed with your bicycle riding; you are so fast!" Gabriel listened thoughtfully. He asked, "Where is Vo?" I smiled into Gabriel's eyes; "Vo died long before you were born."
A little frown on his brow, "Why did he die?" he asked.
"He died because he was old." as soon as I uttered those words, his lip quivered as if his heart knew the depth of life, his heart, you could say, was on his sleeve.
I knew how Gabriel looked at me; he was thinking, "Do you think Vavie is old?"
With a child's honesty, he solemnly said, "Yes. Why aren't you dead?"
Looking into his sweet baby face, I grinned,
"Because it isn't my time yet. I am here, and hopefully,
I won't die so we can play for a long time."
His frown softened.
Chelsea added, "Do you remember what Mana (his other grandmother) said about people who die?"
"Yes, they go to heaven."
"Do you know heaven is?" I asked.
"No, it is in the sky. Do you know?"
"I want to believe it is love, a big happy love, love that holds us all together forever."
And with that, he said, "Come play with me."
And I did.
How do you say I love you in sign language?
I taught Gabriel how to hold his three fingers up.
Chelsea sent me this picture as they were on vacation,
I noticed that Gabriel had his three fingers held up.
Of course, a sweet baby smile speaks of love too.
and then again
When I realized the grocery shop would soon close
Gabriel decided to crawl?
6:30 rise and shining
Breakfast, then out to the beach.
Sand and salt
Balance along the wall to the park.
5000 steps later
Nonstop play
a cold shower turned into a water fun fest
A big creamy lunch with gnocchi
and fresh summer fruit
Two stories…
The longest deserved nap.
To protect your head wear a helmet:
Grab a pair of red boxer shorts
pull them down nearly covering your eyes.
Next, take a pair of socks, preferably a matching color to your “helmet”slip them on as gloves.
Not seen in the above photo, though an important part of the rider’s attire,
is to take off the protective chair leg felt pads and add them to your knees and elbows.
Then take your earphones slipping them on so that the head part becomes a shield for your eyes.
You are ready to ride.
Shoes not required inside.
That is how we roll.
On a blistering hot summer day
Gabriel decided to wear knee socks.
Because that is what three-year-olds do.
We watched a group of men jumping into the canal Saint Martin. It was very tempting, the splash of the water, the hot sun on the pavement, the lack of air… tempting.
We tried to stay cool.
We had ice cream.
France has a heat wave. As I grew up in the Sacramento Valley, hot days in the summer were very common. I wouldn’t say I liked those days back then, and I certainly don’t want them now. The only difference - my cousin’s pool - And that was a big difference, a wonderful difference, the memory-filled highlight of summer days.
But heat waves in France are uncomfortable, especially in Paris.
But not if you are three with knee socks and a teeter-totter.
And cherries.
(Text and photo by Chelsea)
When you have a child, you inherit a visual gauge of life as it shows how fast time goes by and how a child can develop, grow and become. The visible gauge subtly reminds us to reflect, be grateful, and be aware of the time we have had.
Three years how can it be?
Memories of our plane ride to California came rolling in as we took the three hour plus TGV from Marseille to Paris.
We went back with Chelsea and the little ones as Yann had a meeting in Paris and we could help Chelsea with the children.
Three adults two children.
We all took naps except Gabriel and Papioca.
Then this one thought why not learn to crawl on a table in a moving train? Sort of felt like the story: Cat in the Hat.
Soon after Gabriel was born a beautiful handmade gift arrived.
Every single detail was created with perfection. The cards, the stationary, the
book with photos circled with lace and sweetness, a darling elephant... a
package of beauty, love, generosity and creativity.
Manuela Buisset created this treasure for Chelsea
weeks after Gabriel was born. It remains a treasure.
Made with vintage and antique textiles.
This divine book of photos that Manuela made using photos from my blog.
So unexpected, delightful and WOW what a gift.
My appreciation of this treasure continues.
How thoughtfully kind of you Manuela.
Thank you a hundred times over.
First Day:
Gabriel had a fever and slept most of the time.
Didn't eat.
Second Day:
Gabriel had a dry cough, less fever, and still wasn't eating.
The third day:
Still not eating, no fever, and a dry cough.
Nevertheless, he was playing and seemed happier today.
Except, Chelsea has a scratchy throat and a dry cough.
She took a covid test it was negative. She will take another one tomorrow.
Papillote is a French Christmas candy as popular as candy canes in the States. Though it doesn't look anything like a candy cane it is made of chocolate. You might think it is a bit odd that I am writing about a Christmas candy during Easter ... Though you will see my story doesn't have anything to do with Christmas except the name of the candy.
Since Martin and Chelsea did not want to reveal Olivia's name until she was born they called her, "Papillote" in the months leading up to her birth.
Gabriel understood this to mean Olivia had this name. From that moment on the name, "Papillote" has stuck with him.
When we arrived at my Mom's home Gabriel said his sister's name was, "Papillote".
My mother had a difficult time pronouncing "Papillote" so she asked Gabriel to teach her how to say it.
Gabriel would say, "Pap-pee-ought".
My mother tried and tried to pronounce it though she just couldn't get it right.
After the 100th time, my mother gave up and said,
"Okay, forget about it, I am going to call her, "Tapioca".
And she did.
The day went on with my mother singing and saying, "Tapioca" and Gabriel correcting her every time,
"No, Vavalinga it isn't "Tapioca", it is "Papillote".
But my mother shook her head adding, "I cannot pronounce it, so Tapioca it is."
By the end of the day, I don't know who said it first, the two names merged -
"Papioca"
and just like that, another nickname came to be.
So after running around, and around the park
following Speed Racer on his pushbike.
I asked if he would like to lay down in the patch of daisies? Instantly, and quite surprisingly, he got off his pushbike and walked over
to the wild patch of daisies.
In my mind’s eye, I imagined he would take off his jacket, and his pink helmet while giving me one of his sweetest smiles.
Nope.
He laid down and covered his eyes due to the bright sun.
Which gave me thirty seconds to take a photo and a small break
from running behind him on his pushbike.
When you learn how to make pies by the master.
My mom bakes every day- every day she makes cookies, or pie, or cream puffs, or something in that sweet order and from scratch.
And even though she can make those sweet things with her eyes closed and turned around backward
she still followed the recipe to the “t”.
My mom doesn’t take shortcuts, nor deviates from the recipe, her 86 year old hands move with grace.
My mother made a blackberry pie from blackberries that she picked last summer.
My mom freezes her measured blackberries in four cup bags ready to use.
Gabriel used the leftover pie dough to make his own little pie-
not quite the same but we didn’t tell him that.
Chelsea posted these photos of Olivia, all dolled-up in these various hats, on her Instagram.
And being that it is my birthday, I claimed them to be party hats, even if this cupcake lives seven hours away.
(This hat was mine when I was a wee one.)
See, she is waving at us.
Don't all grandparents see magical things in their grandchildren?
I could not resist buying this polka-dotted hat.
Even though my children were teenagers at the time.
It has been in my scarf drawer for years.
I thought it was just too darn cute to stay in the shop.
Ina & Milo made this hat and a little matching outfit for Olivia.
Isn't it sweet? And perfectly made!
Gabriel's hand me down.
A monastic religious take on celebrating a 64-year-old's birthday.
Being shy.
An antique hat that I found years ago at the brocante. It still had its tag on it.
Our friend Big Christy,
as my children called her when they were little
as we knew two "Christys" and the one who made this hat
was the taller one.
Hence, Big Christy made this hat for Gabriel.
Olivia had to wear it for the party theme.
Little Red Riding Hood
Yann gave this hat to Olivia at Christmas.
Another hand-me-down from Gabriel.
Another hat I found at the brocante. I have many more.
But Martin doesn't like these old bonnets; he says they look like they are for a doll.
I said,
Well, she is, isn't she?
He said,
She is and doesn't need to be dressed up to be like one.
I smirked.
Dang, I cannot always get what I want.
So at least a few old hats got it.
And they do serve a real purpose
1) They keep her head warm.
2) They are great party hats.
3) It's my birthday.
4) I did not tell Chelsea to do this.
I love Martin and baby Olivia.
Ching gave this hat to Gabriel.
Vida made this hat an apple hat with a stem and a leaf attached.
The apple of my eye kind of hat.
Another old hat of mine.
Party Hats!
I think this should become a tradition for my birthday every year, don't you?
We are planning to go to California in March.
Chelsea wants to introduce Olivia to my mother and our family.
Hopefully, Covid might be a little less threatening...
Anyway, Chelsea had Olivia's passport photo taken today.
Olivia is the same age Gabriel was when he had his passport photo taken.
When we went to California from France Gabriel was five months old; he slept maybe an hour of the 22-hour trip.
That was before Covid, and we could walk up and down the aisle.
Now, I know that any of you who have cared for a baby knows the strange phenomenon
of trying to sit down with a sleeping baby in your arms:
They often wake up, no matter how carefully one tries to sit down while imitating the same movement.
__
It should be interesting.
At least I know what I am getting into.
I traveled to and from France to California every year sometimes twice for the last 35 years.
Every trip traveling with children has a story. Chelsea was an easy going passenger. Superhero baby traveler. Sacha was a Superhero traveler from the time he was three years old. But before that... well, calm-gentle-patient-couldn't-hurt-a-fly- Yann said regarding a trip with Sacha, "...it is a good thing these windows don't open otherwise I would throw him out."
I was so taken back by Yann saying that I started laughing.
It wasn't funny.
After that I had enourmous sympathy for parents of a crying baby on a plane - I feel for them! It is unbelievable the insulting looks people give parents of crying babies on the plane. As if a parent is purposely trying to make a baby cry.
We will see how Olivia fares on the long flight. Personally, I am more concern about Gabriel-
but then with that said today we walked nearly a mile hand in hand from his pre school back to his home in Paris.
We stopped at a cafe to have a crepe and something to drink. He was an enchanting little 2 1/2 year old.
Flawless. So maybe he will be the same on the plane.
___
Do you have a story traveling with a baby on a plane?
Nearly three months old.
Olivia sleeps.
Gabriel... well that is another story.
Two babies, two very different personalities.
Same parents.
When you have a baby you can truly see that they are their own person.
Olivia sleeps.
___
A red ball,
a blue sky,
green grass,
and a very happy little boy.
Olivia didn’t know she was in my face challenge.
Like most babies, I would say all babies who aren’t sleeping, Olivia makes many faces in a second.
Those muscles develop quickly with the multitude of expressions.
Due to the constant movement of babies' faces maybe that is why baby photos are taken when they are sleeping?
That might explain why my photos are blurry?
Olivia smiles often, then goes into a serious mode, tries to talk and rolls over.
She makes me laugh.
Olivia is two and a half of a month old.
Olivia the easy birth baby.
who sleeps eats, poops, and repeats.
Cries rarely.
I have only heard her cry twice, once was right before these photos
were taken and that is why I am laughing, as it was so surreal to hear her cry...
What? Is she ...
"A real baby?"
Four weeks old.
As one can imagine I am gaga over this new little person.
When comparing the two loves
One seems extra tiny and the other oversize.
Everyone is doing well.
Olivia was born in a bathtub at a natural birthing clinic in Paris
where Gabriel was born.
Chelsea's birth story can be summed up like this:
Fast, painless, unless you count two contractions hard, came home a few hours later, and hasn't missed a beat.
Four days old.
o-li-via in French
Photo by Chelsea
Climbs up the wooden playground structure.
Takes it in.
In that sponge-like brain, he soaks it in
Sound, color, elements, people's expressions, he feels the energy, processes, absorbs.
Because every second is a learning moment and play is important.
Content.
Safe.
Check.
Turns around and goes down.
Then we went and ate a crepe.
Not everyone was invited to the dinner
of peas, pasta, fish and yogurt.
Only a selected few.
Cinnabun, Baabaa, Aaron’s stuffed animal that somehow did not make it back his home, Chien, Bear, Panda, and Bun.
A rather large group of introverts were scooped up, carried haphazardly to sit on the table.
Water and being outside are two things most children love.
The fountain at the park was hard to turn on for most of the little hands there so Yann decided to hold it on for them.
Gabriel, as you can see doesn't like wet clothes, hence he was in his diaper.
Once the children knew that someone was holding the water on the lineup was continuous their pails, and water bottles were filled and dumped in the sand box.
carefree, barefoot, playing with water and sand at the end of summer.
The parks in Paris are full of children I am discovering more parks than brocantes, not really but sort of.
photographs from Gabriel’s Daddy Martin x
We spent the day wandering around Arles.
As any of you who have had children know that when you go anywhere with a toddler you spend
most your time wandering after them.
We knew that
and the day went as planned.
Wandering.
Chelsea took this photo.
Ask me how many times we raced and I will tell you...
Enough where he was winning at the end.
So far they are enjoying the RV lifestyle they started in Bordeaux, went along the coast,
and now they are in the Pyrennes. Their one-week adventure is to test the waters
for a future longer trip. Yes, they both can work remotely, for the most part, they have been
since March 2020. Gabriel is a happy camper.
Baby's first bite.
Discovering taste, and texture.
First bite.
Chelsea and Martin steamed the vegetable until it was very soft so that it would be easy to swallow without much chewing. They are following a movement that lets babies feed themselves (self-fed) by letting him discover texture/taste by grabbing and manipulating his own food rather than have it pureed and spoon-fed.
Sounds good, fun and messy to me.
Notice the plastic covering on the floor, a spoon, a bowl, and a bib and a carrot.
At his check-up at the doctor's today, he weighed 10 kilos. Gabriel is nearly 7 months old. No teeth yet.
Breastmilk has served him well and will continue to serve him well.
Chelsea's Nickname for Baby Gabriel "Love Love".
Refraining from eating him in one bite is becoming harder and harder to resist.
Though with that said holding him longer and longer is becoming harder too, he is a chunk.
All that sweetness.
Such a beautiful dream come true.
The latest video of baby Gabriel showed him doing something new.
Devouring his father's nose.
No hungry wasn't an issue.
Maybe it was a sign of affection?
Though he hasn't mastered gentleness he was chewing mostly.
Nevertheless, I find him adorable !
I know to whom these belong.
The morning started with Gabriel and I sneaking out with the strollers for croissants, pain au chocolates, apple turnovers, and a baguette. Not even the scent of freshly baked goods could wake up Gabriel so I walked around the village: Baby bundled up in a stroller, whiffs of buttery croissants, a blue Provencal sky, bumpy cobble stones that I never noticed before, falling leaves and one happy Vavie (my Grandmother name that was the same name as my Azorean Grandmothers and my Mom's grandmother name, and now mine too.)
