Read Little Kids, Big City: Tales from a Real House in New York City (With Lessons on Life and Love for Your Own Concrete Jungle) for Free Online Page B

nakedly anti baby prejudice I experienced and the only time in my life so far I ever resigned from a job
    7. Alex - I literally cried with gratitude when Simon gave me an espresso machine for my first birthday as a mom
    6. We subversively took sleeping babies to as many non child friendly places as pos sible to prove the point that children can be seen not heard and not bothersome such as dinner at the Ritz in London the Sahara Desert shopping on Madison Avenue Underbar in Union Square and film festivals.
    5. Simon - I took three month old François to see kangaroos in a paddock near my mother’s house when we visited and let him grab their fur and even“ride” one Of course in photos it looks like I was trying to feed him to them
     

    Baby François = Wallaby Food?

     
     
    4. Alex - Screamed at my husband while he held me in a quasi headlock to prevent me from going into François room for yet a fourth time in the middle of the night after we’d both agreed to let him cry it out
    3. Simon - When Johan was born introducing François to his baby brother in the hospital He very carefully held Johan on Alex’s lap and whispered “Hi Johan Hi baby” The wonder in his two year old voice was clear
     

    Hi Baby! François Meets Johan

     
     
    2. We took one-week-old François out in the Baby Björn to see the New York Marathon as the route was one block from our apartment at the time It took us a moment to realize why no one was standing on the opposite side of the road where weʹd gone for a better view Of course once the runners started to clog the road we wouldnʹt get back across for an hour so we literally sprinted across the street with the baby just in time
    1. Alex - Did not even try to squeeze myself into pre maternity trousers for about a month—I continued to wear maternity jeans with draped sweaters and gradually eased myself back into pre baby clothes

Chapter 3
     
    The Screaming Kid on the Plane is NOT Mine! (This Time)
     
    Traveling with Children
     
    Alex
    Hotel Bartender Marrakech (HB): Ce n’est pas possible se d’asseoir avec votre bébé dans la bar.
    Moi: Pourquoi?
    HB: Parce que les gens fument.
    Moi: Mais maintenant il n’y personne a fumer.
    HB: Mais peut’etre c’est possible.
    Moi : J’attends mon mari et mes amis, juste 10 minutes peut’etre. Si quelqu’un entre et commence à fumer, je prendrai le bébé à l’extérieur.
     
    (The bartender, convinced that in the 10 minutes I waited for Simon and our friends in the hotel bar someone might come in and blow smoke in five-week-old François’ face, looked at me disapprovingly for the entire 10 minutes. Meanwhile, I enjoyed my glass of Champagne and François slept on, never knowing that he was in the bar to begin with.)
     

    Alex, Baby François and a Camel Drive

     
    We’ve traveled in every class of service since we’ve been parents, and on pretty much every type of aircraft imaginable, from the six-seater to the largest Boeings and Airbuses. Along the way there have been boats, trains, cars, limos and even a pickup truck or two. Both sides of my family are from Texas, and I grew up traveling between Dallas, Fort Scott (a small town in Kansas where I went to school) and the Caribbean where my family had a house. We’ve taken the boys to Africa, Australia, all over Europe and the States and many, many islands. We’ve obsessively taken pictures of sleeping babies in front of Big Ben, the Sydney Opera House, the St. Tropez Harbor and the Atlas Mountains as proof they were there, because of course they won’t remember the early trips. Our boys have been licked by kangaroos, sniffed by camels, placed sleeping in their car seats under tables during long dinners in France and have played in more than one airplane closet. Once the seat belt sign was off, of course. Maybe.
    The thing that really gets me is hearing parents complain about how hard it is to travel with young children. Guess what? They are right; it IS hard. It can be a