Monday, November 18, 2013

My Baby is 9

   Youngest Child turned 9 yesterday. There are two things that I fret about on a regular basis. The first is what happens to all of  the trash, and the second is how fast time goes. Like many others, I clearly remember my mother preaching to me over summer vacations when I complained about being soooo bored, preaching the words: enjoy it now because time only goes faster as you get older. Well, now I am older and I can't stand how time disappears.
   All of my children will celebrate a birthday in France, or some other neighboring country of choice. I am the only who won't have an European birthday, so we will have to celebrate my half birthday which will come up in another month or so. Nonetheless, for youngest Child's birthday we went to the Camargue, a wonderful coastal area east of Marseilles that is famous for its wild, white horses, black bulls and pink flamingos. (And warplane sized mosquitoes, but luckily they were done for the season)
It is similar to Chincoteague Island, near where I grew up. The beaches were wide and sandy, the marshes were teeming with waterfowl, white horses were everywhere though I don't know if there are any wild ones anymore, and bull was served on many menus. Restaurants served fresh seafood and wandering the docks in the morning was proof of the plentiful day's catch. It is a gorgeous area that we vowed we would return to, before mosquito season starts.
   Youngest Child starting whispering in my ear about 4:00 A.M., wondering if he could open presents yet. The night before, we discussed having to wait until the sun was up. Considering this is the child who wakes the entire house anywhere between 2:00-4:00 A.M. on Christmas morning, I knew it would be challenging for him to practice patience. Lucky for him, he is so cute. He made it until just before sunrise, then just could not handle it any longer. We came back to our house after a really pleasant weekend voyage and shared a delicious cake with our wonderful neighbors who make us feel so at home here in France.
  Happy Birthday, Baby Boy.
From 9 years old and 93 years old
Jumping for joy...or just trying to stay warm
Opening presents in the wee hours of the morning

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