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Spring Cleaning

April 24, 2011

I dare you to tell the weather gods that it’s actually Spring because they seem to be blessing Paris with freakishly warm weather and summer-like sun.  Café terraces are jumping, sandals have made their appearance, and Parisians are rushing in droves to the parks.  People-watching in the city has hit an all-time high.

But in any direction I look I can’t seem to see anything but pregnant women.  Some are even pushing these gigantic strollers with two or three seats in a row.  How is it possible?  Where do these ladies put this many children in a city where 50 square meters is a big apartment?  More importantly, where do they put these huge strollers?  I’m imagining that they fold up into the teeny-tiniest little bundle of metal and rubber that is slipped into some sort of Ikea under-the-bed contraption.

In the midst of all of these bellies and buggies I keep thinking about the scene in Bambi where in the Spring all the mother animals frolic around in the forest with their animal babies while poor Bambi is alone.  For me, it’s like the reverse.  All of these Parisian mothers and mothers-to-be and I’m Bambi’s Mom without her Bambi.

Let’s not joke around, I’m totally fine without my a little fawn, but I do feel sort of out of place and closed in by all these family women.

I’m not the only one.  A French friend of mine, guy actually, was venting the other day about the never ending list of friends expecting children, remembering names and birthdays, attending baptisms and, and, and… But he referred to all of these cases in a way that made me smile and breath a sigh of relief.  He called them rangés, which in French means organized and put away… like on a shelf.

I guess my life is still an open book.  And that’s ok.  I think I’ve got more stories to tell and more places to see before organizing myself on that shelf.

And who wants to maneuver a three-seat stroller on a public bus anyway?

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