Back home and back to Paris

I have let ten whole days slip by. Boo, hiss, throw squidgy tomatoes. I have a fine excuse – a computer so slow it makes Dad’s old Commodor 64 look racy, which is in the hands of my computer expert friend, Rosbif, and has been since last Thursday. I am writing this on my phone which is a tad painstaking, but seeing as I am on a train with a snoozing bundle of little boy on my lap, and thus am immobilised for a good hour or two, I may as well take my time and write something.

I have my little boy back. After two whole weeks of being in Paris while he was in the Ardèche countryside with his daddy, I finally got to sweep him up into my arms on Saturday morning. There they were on Montelimar train station platform, a tall, unshaven, and even sexier L’Homme than I remembered and a short, cuddly, woolly-hatted Tommy, clutching a red rose twice his height. He was wearing a little yellow jacket I’d never seen before and he looked so DIFFERENT, so GROWN-UP. He was grinning at me and at the same time he looked a little unsure of the situation. I kneeled down to give him a cuddle and burst into tears. I tried to smile and tell him everything was okay but I couldn’t stop crying. “Mummy okay?” Tommy asked me. “I’m crying because I’m so happy to see you and Daddy” I sobbed, but he didn’t look convinced and cuddled me even tighter. It was only when I managed to call him a Cheeky Monkey Banana that he started to laugh, reassured that I was still his same Mummy and hadn’t been transmogrified into a weeping, wet puddle while in Paris (although the last two days had indeed been exhausting and emotional but that’s another story).

So, we’ve just spent a lovely Easter week-end together at home, then we drove L’Homme to the station yesterday and got the train ourselves just today. We’re heading back up to Paris as I’ve got another couple of shows to do and Tommy and I have got some serious city stuff to do.. ie. metro, buses, fire station, Eiffel Tower, kid’s museum, “big boys” friends, boat ride down the Seine, and whatever else takes our fancy.

My right leg has got chronic pins and needles. It feels like my foot might fall off from a severe lack of blood supply. I’d forgotten how heavy a toddler’s sleepy head can be.


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