Month: August 2016

What Was I Thinking? (Summer edition)

So I’ve been radio-silent because I went to France for a month. With my two sons. Where I was the only one who spoke English. In a house occupied by two 70-year-old people whose only tolerance for children has been one freakishly-calm French granddaughter for maybe 36 hours at a time. And I’m bringing two American boys, accustomed to burning a path of destruction everywhere they go. They break shit just to break it. Did I mention this was for a month? In a place where children are to be seen and not heard? On Instagram (that frustrating filter of fabulosity), I see big ol’ bloggers who must have been sponsored to take their families to the Italian lake district and sit around taking precious pictures of their perfect lives. This, that was not. I took my kids to the rural cousin’s house to be Daddy-Day-Camp-Counselor in order to avoid being Daddy-Day-Camp-Counselor at our own home. In the weeks before our departure, I started to panic: What have I done? What grown adult chooses to …