The L Word

So the French don't toss around the word LOVE quite like Americans do. For the last three months Zac has told me that he likes me alot. Whenever he is mad or frustrated with me, I will say "I know you love me."

Today I picked him up from school and had to drag him in a rush to the metro so that we could make his first swimming class. It wasn't too far away, but we had to hop on two different lines to get there. It's in the Champs de Mars, which is the park of the Eiffel Tower.

We got there and he began to get very attached. This was a new class at a new location with new people. When they began calling names, he grabbed my arm and said "I love you too much!" Melt my heart.

There were some issues with his registration so I had to sign him up again. The workers were incredibly gracious and helpful. I even met a mom that pretty much initiated me. Zac was emotional and didn't want to swim. She calmed him down by getting her son to play with him. I couldn't go to the pool with him because I wasn't wearing a bathing suit. There are extremely strict rules for pools in Paris. Zac has to wear a cap, goggles, and his little tight tiny trunks. This sweet woman, Susan, told me that I should sign up for a membership so that I could swim with her while the kids are in their lesson. I might do it. She was a native English speaker and said that her mother is British, father is Czech, raised in Switzerland, and now she's French by marriage. Nice family line.

It was a crazy and stressful day, but it's over now. Too bad every Monday will be the same. If I hear "I love you too much" every Monday, it will make things a little better.