A Month

It honestly doesn't seem possible that a whole month could go by so quickly, but apparently it can.

France and I have been becoming acquainted over the past 31 days. And, like building any relationship, it takes time. 

I'm able to go to the grocery store and find the right ingredients for dinner on my own. Driving I can do without a problem, whether it's picking the youngest up from school, or driving 30 minutes through the gorgeous misted countryside to drop-off a handful of teens for a retreat.
But then somebody will try to talk to me as I'm wandering down a cobblestone street in Chantilly by the Chateau and suddenly I feel lost. I do my best to be polite and apologetic as I botch an accent and the pronunciation of "Je ne parle pas Français," but I walk away feeling entirely awful and like I'm going to be the reason France bars any future Americans from coming into their country. It's a bummer.

Sometimes it's hard to fight back tears when I'm reminded how inadequate I am for this mission. It can be really discouraging to feel like I'm not able to be fully present during my time here. Not that anyone has ever said anything to make that seem at all true, so I guess we really are our own harshest critic.

One of the best parts of my day is when I get to pick up kids from school. It's really nice to be greeted with big hugs and big smiles. Although they've only known me for a month, they like me. I love them. It makes feeling stupid go away, as I'm reminded that these children don't care that I can't speak French fluently. They don't care that I ask a million questions about what certain phrases and words mean. They don't care when I ask them to quiet down while we're driving through waterfalls of rain on tiny streets during rush hour. They care about if I like the picture they drew, or if I like the skit they made up. They care that I laugh with them, and that I will hug them and kiss a boo-boo. They want me to jump on the trampoline and tickle them. 

Yesterday was a big win. As I pulled into the parking lot to pick up the youngest from his school, I got really nervous. Will he be okay with me getting him, or will he cry asking for his mom? Will the teachers start questioning me and be wary when I can't answer? What if he cries and because of that they won't let me take him home? As my mind panicked through every worst-case scenario, I knocked on the door, and managed to explain who I was there to pick up. When the little guy saw me, his eyes lit up as he excitedly ran over and hugged my legs. Also, he called me Evie(Usually he calls me by his last nanny's name, but they sound similar so we work with it. :P ) unprompted for the first time. That was worth every bit of insecurity I've had up until that point.

As we worked together to get his shoes and coat on, he kept saying "Evie! Home!" and touching my cheek with his hand. Now, he and I usually get along just fine. But this was the first time where it really was clear he was cool with me, and that he recognized me as someone he could trust.

And that was pretty awesome. :)