"For You O Lord are a shield about me, You are the glory and lifter of my head. Psalm 3:3

"For You O Lord are a shield about me, You are the glory and lifter of my head. Psalm 3:3

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Paris is Waiting

Paris is waiting for me.

By now, I thought you, Beautiful City, would know me.  I thought I would have discovered all you have to offer. But you don't.  My feet have never stepped onto your soil in quest of travel and experience.
We had glorious plans for a trip to Paris for our 5 year anniversary.  That was 2 years ago.  Instead, we had a baby a week after our anniversary.  One night, while nursing a babe and watching another lovie learn to hold crayons, my husband said to me Remember that one time we were going to go to Paris?
Yep.  I remember.  Could you grab me another diaper?

Some would say the streets of Paris, the view from the Eiffel Tower, the taste of the Le Grand Ve'four creations, and the masterpieces on display in the Louvre, all pale in comparison to the mundane agendas of the life of a stay-at-home-mom.
Some days, I would agree.

But on most days, I think my Paris is better.

Our view.  It isn't always fabulous.  Like this week, we're living out of our laundry baskets and therefore the living room is decorated like this.

The view near our house is one I realized I love a lot.  I probably see it 5 times a day.  In the fall, it's a row of deep purplish reds and oranges.  I'm looking forward to it.  It's the first thing we see leaving for a day of errands.  Maybe there's no plan at all but just being together.  This view brings him home to us after a day at the office.  It's no Arch of Triump, but it's our daily view and we like it just fine.

The tastes.  Around these parts it's whatever we want it to be.  Our little hands can whip you up some goodness on a platter.  For real.  They tap, tap, tap until the eggs are broken.  They measure off the vanilla extract just right. This week's dish, Cheesecake Bars.
We forgot to pre-bake our graham cracker crust.  I bet that doesn't happen in Paris.  
And I cheated.  I think bars are easier than cake and you can skip the warm water bath around the pan.  
Cheesecake Bars
crust: half a box of graham crackers, 5 tbl. melted butter, 1/3 c. sugar
1.  pulse the daylights out of it in your food processor
2.  mash it into a 8x8 parchment paper-lined pan sprayed with Pam
3.  bake @ 350 for 4 minutes
1/4 c. sugar
8 oz. cream cheese (at room temp.)
2 tbl. milk
1 tbl. lemon juice
1 egg
1/2 teas. vanilla extract
1.  beat cream cheese for 30 seconds, scrape sides
2.  throw everything else in there, beat for 30 seconds
3.  pour into crust in pan, bake @ 350 for 25-30 minutes
(cool on wire racks and then chill in refrigerator)
Sophie suggests a drizzling of chocolate with chocolate chips.

Emma prefers raspberry sauce. (pint of berries, 2 tbl. lemon juice, 1/4 c. sugar; smash and simmer)

The masterpieces.  There's a range of art on display in this gallery and my little artists keep it comin'.
Emma learned a little bit about pottery, courtesy of Michelle.

They dream and let their imaginations guide their little hands.  And I get to watch.

Rose, very calculated and methodical in her presentation.
Baby Lynn, purely impulsive, messy, and scattered.

And then there's the tapestry He weaves, the showpiece no canvas can hold.
The workmanship of family, of marriage and sisterhood, being crafted daily by the Creator.

Some days my Paris is taking babies to the grocery store, maybe cheering her up with our Get Well basket when she's feeling yucky.
Some days are hard.
We have good days and we have days of grace.
basket of goodies to follow littles around the house when they're sick
Go ahead Beautiful City, age 20 years, I won't be there on your streets anytime soon.  Maybe some day when babies are grown and gone.  And maybe not.
Maybe I won't smell fresh baguettes baking each morning or taste fresh cream outside the Notre' Dame chapel. Nor hear the bells and feel the wind on my face at Versailles.
Because until today, I had long forgotten about you, grand Paris.
Mamas can dream and this mama has a storehouse full of them.  But things change.
And for now, she is my cobblestone street, lined with shops and bakeries.
The sweet sounds of their voices are my cathedral bell chorus.
The treasured moments when we snuggle up under cold sheets in quest for the perfect afternoon nap, that's my unforgettable adventure I will one day look back on with gratitude.
And even though there are days when the mundane overwhelms along with the laundry and dinner gets burned because she needed a time-out for the 20th time, I'm right where I want to be.

Paris.  Maybe we will meet one day.
Until then, you're just a dream on a coffee cup.  A picture on a post card.
Because my dreams are coming true.  And there's 3 of them, all tucked in, dreaming their own dreams and waiting for tomorrow.
Salut grand Paris'.  Don't wait up for me.


  1. oh... how i love your heart. how you describe your family; how you capture each small facet that tends to go unnoticed. you inspire me. i love you, dear friend... so much.

  2. This made me cry and that's not easy to do Megan! Such a beautiful perspective on your life and dreams. Each time I get a piece of knowing you better, I love it. :)

  3. Sure do love this one Megan!!!! Pictures and comparisons to Paris are so creatively expressed!!!! By the way.....the dessert looks fabulous too!!!!!

  4. megan this is absolutely beautiful! thank you for sharing!