Disneyland Paris with a 3 year old

When did they stop calling it EuroDisney?

Husband had most of December off due to the holidays (everything closes, Parisians leave the city).  I wanted to take advantage of his time and make M's first trip to Disneyland.  My logic was that we could easily leave and be home should the shit hit the proverbial fan.  I want to eventually get annual passes for M and I, but I knew my husband wanted to be there to experience her first time with her.  So, we chose a day and went.  It was December 29, and this is a pretty high occupancy day.  They open 30 minutes early (annual pass holders are admitted 2 hours early), not that we made it out of te house on time anyway, it was Frisbee style that morning.

We took the Metro 8 2 stops to the Opera station, and transferred to the commuter train, the RER, and rode for about 35 more minutes.  It's not easy getting a stroller through the stations, it just isn't.  There are no elevators, walking between train platforms is often filled with flights and flights of stairs.  Soon she'll be old enough to ride without a stroller, but, not today.

We packed some pastries and off we went!

It was really, really cold.  I dressed M in pants, tights, a turtle neck, her Minnie Mouse dress, hat, scarf, mittens, and coat, and a blanket in the stroller.  She was still cold.  When we arrived, we headed through the castle which she loved.  We picked up some fastpasses at the PeterPan ride and got in the long line to see Mickey.  He has his own little building with a line that is all inside, and there are Mickey cartoons to watch while you wait.  I think it was M's favorite part of the day.

Then we went to It's a Small World where we waited about an hour to see the Christmas theme version.  M loves singing Jingle Bells more than breathing, and they alternated Jingle Bells with It's a Small World in the ride.  It was heaven.

We left and got a spot for the Parades, Frozen, and then the traditional Christmas parade right after. Husband went to find us some lunch, it was disgusting, just like I remembered from our last visit.   Frozen was a dud.  the 2 princesses riding in a carriage, that was it.  Boo.  Did I mention how cold it was?  The Christmas parade on the other hand, was pretty good, M was into that.  There was a lot of pushing and shoving and jockeying for position, and this being Europe, there was even more of it than we care for.  Husband even tapped a lady on the shoulder to remind her that there was an actual child who would like to enjoy some childish things and could she please move her fat ass out of the way since we were there first and have been waiting patiently, unlike her, who had just waddled up?  Go Husband.

By now, about 3pm, all the Fastpass stations were closed for getting any new tickets.  So we rode our PeterPan ride and headed over to Walt Disney Studios to see the Ratatouille land.  Coffee, potty, and tantrum break, and we were ready.  It's a weird park.  It feels unfinished.  Ratatouille land was different though, it was typical Disney, perfect to the last detail.  We all loved it.  We waited 2 hours for the ride and then headed home.

Hooray for School!

School has begun, and not a moment too soon.  Husband received his assignment letter, FINALLY!  So yesterday was filled with activities that previously had been in a holding pattern.  We needed our birth certificates, passports, Husband's college diploma,  and our marriage license.  And, could you scan those right away please?  No problem.  Ok, now, where are those things...
Also, the property manager is coming over today to photograph our house for the rental listing, so could you please just make it look as if we lived in a hotel room, with every trace of us erased and every surface bare, and spotless?  No problem.  I have been meaning to sort through the 100 drawings on the refrigerator and the meaningless pile of junk stacked next to the printer.  Why are there toy cars and horses in the bathroom?  Who made a tower of books in the living room?  Why are there 600 hair bows in the corner?  How do I make my bed again?  She won't want to photograph the laundry room, right?  Oh what's that?  we've run out of time?  Just shove everything willy-nilly into the nearest drawer?  Yes, that.
Was contacted by a member of the spouses group through Husband's company.  She wanted to (1) welcome me and (2) ask if she could help find me a maid service.  Maid service is not exactly on my list of priorities, but I suppose it was a kind gesture.  Or she somehow knows what a lazy slob I am.
Husband and I began french lessons here, tonight is our second class.  French is hard.  I am old.  I paid $8 for a notebook from the drugstore.  WTF.

The thing about corporate transfers

My husband works for an energy company headquartered in Paris, with a substantial hub in Houston, Texas.  He has worked for this company since he graduated from college and loves it with a passion that I have never been able to experience myself in my career, or even begin to explain to others, it is rare that anyone loves their job as much as he does.  It's the reason we live in Texas, it's the reason we stay in Texas, it is the reason I can live happily here, so far removed from our family and friends.  Someday I will rehash our first relationship, but today I will just say that there was always a chance that we would be transferred, maybe temporarily, and perhaps permanently, but when you agree to marry a person working for this company, and often, any energy-based company, you generally accept a few things about the life you will live, and one of them is that no matter where you are, or what you're doing, there may be a chance that tomorrow you may wake up and get a call that rocks your very familiar, very humid, world.

We are moving to Paris.  Husband got a promotion, and we have a three year assignment.

"And you can't tell anyone," says Husband.  You see, the thing about corporate transfers is, nothing is certain until it is certain.  So, there is a lot of waiting, like, months of waiting for the grinding wheels of progress to confirm what we think is about to happen.  And the waiting is annoying, but no problem, if say, you're waiting for the deli to finish making your sandwich, or for your photobook to arrive in the mail, I mean, how long could it possibly take, right?  A long, freaking time.

While you wait, feel free to obsess to the point of hallucination about ALL THE THINGS.  After the initial unabashed glee at the prospect of living in Paris, oh my gosh, Paris!  Wine, cheese, chocolate, bread, are there any more important food groups as these?  Museums!  Real museums, with art!  Nice weather!  Perfect weather, with the walking and the strolling and seeing of the things.  After all of that, days later, the reality of the logistics begin to set in.  Although it doesn't, for me, detract from the idea of being Parisians, it is enough to keep me up at night thinking.  Where will we live?  How will we live?  Where will M go to school?  What is that going to be like?  Can we bring the dog?  What happens to my Stevie Nicks tickets for the December show?  Do they have peanut butter in France?  How will I see the final season of Mad Men?  Will all French people think that I am demented because I am fat, or just some?  How much do text messages cost to/from the US?  I'm only halfway through my braces treatment, what will I do?  We've already paid for so much of M's school next year, do we get our money back?  Should I send Christmas presents home to California now, 5 months early, or wait until it costs 6 times as much from Paris?  How in the world will I make it through a 9 hour flight with our two year old, and, oh yeah, I should learn French.

And so my friends, we wait.  Wait for the offer letter from the company, wait for further instructions from the woman that Husband is replacing, wait for all the things.