ontological waste: eftinasrin: French Day: Faux traveling, a whole ...

I grew up the daughter of an airline family.? At various points in my life my mother, father, grandfather, uncle, older sister, two aunts and two uncles all worked for an airline in one way or the other-ticket counter, manager, pilot, management, flight attendant, reservations, you name it.? In the airline industry, you put up with a lot of stress in exchange for travel benefits.? So, we traveled.? A lot. I grew up with the expectation that every couple of months you take a long weekend or longer to Arizona, or Hawaii, or Disneyland.? Sometimes even on more adventurous vacations out of the country.? After graduating high school I was terrified of the prospect of losing that lifestyle so I went to work for the airlines myself.? But after a couple of years I realized, as previously mentioned, those benefits come at the price of lots of stress.? And, starting out, I made so little money I rarely could afford to go anywhere anyway, even with the benefits.? Skip forward, for this and many other reasons, I decided to finish the degree I had been slowly, spottily working on.? I figured I could get a degree and be able to afford to travel full fare anyway.? Voila, right?

Ha.? Years and years later and I still have the expectation and itch to go somewhere every couple of months.? I get very antsy if I don?t have some change of scenery.? I think that is also why I have moved so much, or constantly rearrange the furniture.? But it doesn?t work out that often, beyond visiting relatives by car-the most 5 hours away.? If we go anywhere that is truly a vacation, it?s every couple of years, and with my parents who we love to travel with, but makes me still feel like a child sometimes.? It requires carefully saving up money and miles. I know some people rarely go anywhere at all, and maybe this sounds snobbish, but it really is an uncontrollable itch.? Needless to say we, or more importantly, I do not scratch the itch as much as I feel I need to, whether the itch is rational or not.

As a parent, I look back on the experiences traveling I had as a child.? How it shaped me.? My travels stirred compassion, awe, inspiration, tolerance and awareness.? I wouldn?t be the person I am today without witnessing poverty in the streets of Hong Kong; the contrast of overcrowded industrial cities vs. the vastness of the desert or other quiet parts of the world; the colors of the Great Barrier Reef, the rich life hidden below the surface of the water, invisible to the rest of the world. The colors of the world.

I want that sense of inspiration and understanding for my children too, even if we can?t physically go far.? Not too long ago I read ?Paris in Love? by Eloisa James and was telling my children about Paris.? They were particularly impressed when I told them about all the yummy food and the typical meals there.? I had them at ?In the summer, sometimes French children eat ice cream for breakfast,? something I had read on the internet but had no idea if it was really true.? The response was ?Let?s go!?? We wished.? To let them down gently I said ?Let?s pretend to go.?? And so French Day was born.

The question was, how do you extract the essence of a far away place and infuse it into your home, a day in your very different life?? It?s hard to actually pretend like you are standing in front of the Eiffel Tower. ? We could attempt to build a model of the Eiffel Tower.? We could check out books at the library and study the country, learn the facts.? But that all feels so schoolish, and that takes the fun out of it.? This is no homeschooling, this is vacation, a kind of staycation.

We were just going to have to be French, I thought.? And what are the French about?? Fashion and food?? Well, I had little chance of luring the boys into the fashion world, but my boys are like men: the way to their hearts is through their stomach.

We would eat.? And through eating, we would experience.? So, I donned my fanciest scarf and skinny pants, a nod to the fashion part, and headed out the door one recent morning to Sweet Life Patisserie.? If the name has French in it, good enough for us.

If the French indulge in moderation, we would too.? We all chose one item, plus one extra, and shared.? A croissant, a cherry chocolate scone, a French cinnamon breakfast muffin, and the very French pain au chocolate.? The boys had hot chocolate and I had a cafe au lait.

Breakfast

We took our time, really savoring each delicious bite, enjoying the rare treat.? We discussed our opinions on which was the best.

Nothing compares to flaky pastries.

We went about our day, going to the library and even checking out some books on France to look at.? We cut these out and used them as a backdrop on our dining room table.

Paper City Paris

I made a four course lunch of a simple salad, beef stewed in red wine with a baguette, French cheese (mimolette-like a hard sharp cheddar -nothing stinky!) pears, a French red wine (it wasn?t very good so I won?t bother posting the name) and custard eclairs we took home from Sweet Life.? The paper city also provided some discussion prompts over our long, lingering lunch.? We ate for two hours.? But mimicking the French, we ate so slowly and moderately that after lunch I was pleasantly full, instead of stuffed.? It was nice.

We spent the afternoon looking at books and talking about France.? We looked at pictures of the art, read about the architecture, learned about it?s geography and it?s people.? We practiced speaking French with a CD from the library.? I told them stories my French teacher in college told me.? But really, for us it was all about the French art of eating.? The breaks between meals was intermission, with eager anticipation of what was next on the menu.

Supper was simple, simple for the French anyway: roast beef and crudite with French onion dip, a sausage and bean cassoulet with the last of the baguette, and more cheese, fruit and wine.? We took our time and I asked the boys what their favorite part of the day was.? Breakfast at Sweet Life was the star, and I admit for my sweet tooth as well.? I asked if they had learned anything about France.? They came up with nothing.? Which is ok, because for me I learned that this staycation was more than a vacation, more than experiencing a different culture, more than it?s food,? more than it?s language.? For me, the unexpected learning experience was that I learned a different way to be with my children.? I learned to give into indulgences with them, and to be fully present with them.? Our daily operating status, like many families I believe, is the kids are off playing or reading or whatever, while I am cleaning, cooking, or whatever I need to do to maintain our home, the chickens, the garden, the schedule.? As they grow older, I spend less bonding time with them.? French Day, our mini vacation, was not just a vacation into a different world, it was a vacation from how we operate on a daily basis.? We sat together at the table, talking for long periods of time.? We spent time looking at books and delving into our subject.? For a whole day.

Even if we were actually on vacation, if we truly were in France, my methodical and systematic mind would be focused on organizing our sightseeing, that days plan and the next.? I would be focused on the different awareness I adopt when traveling, in retrospect a rather cranky one, that focuses on ensuring I don?t lose my children in a foreign place and keeping them from making too much noise in a hotel room.

What I learned was how to be leisurely with my children.? Which is funny, because part of being French is leisure.

I also learned that they like expensive cheese.

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Source: http://wholeheartfamily.wordpress.com/2013/01/25/french-day-faux-traveling-a-whole-new-staycation/

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