One foot out the door

Our last week in Paris has not been quite what we might have expected. We might have pictured long sentimental strolls along the Seine, visiting our favorite spots, and reminiscing. That would be nice. Instead, we are both fighting off the most horrible migraine inducing flu ever, spending countless hours packing, and passing every remaining moment worrying about Papa and the day care. Moving home from abroad seems to take almost as much effort and coordination as moving abroad in the first place (hopefully there will be no carte de sejour to run after once we get there, though!) so our minds are already very occupied by Ohio and are starting to feel somewhat removed from Paris, even though it is still outside our window.

Jonah had his last day at the creche on Friday. His teachers gave him a royal send off. They had gotten him a book (Les Petits Blues a Paris - about a little boy who gets lost in Paris and finds his way home via Paris' landmarks with the help of a pigeon named Nestor), and each teacher had signed it. The notes (which must be heartfelt, because French people don't fake this sort of emotion) called Jonah "the nicest boy ever" and "the Prince of Montmartre" and were very touching. Collette gave Jonah one last "gateau" for the road (a daily tradition at the creche), and they sent him off with hugs and a few tears. This week Jonah is going to stay home and "help" us pack.