OK OK… I’ve posted this elsewhere and of course I’m going to bother Facebookers and Twitter-rers all over again, but I am just so gobsmacked at how much my two kids look so alike as babies.
I have been very lucky over the weekend and on Monday to be supported by Thumpahs family. Taken backwards and forwards to the hospital to see Emma by Patrick, MIL, FIL and our friend Bernadette. In fact Bernadette came with me yesterday to the mairie in Courcouronnes as moral support for the “declaration de naissance”. The hospital no longer takes care of the paper work, so it is up to us to go to the mairie in the town of birth ourselves.
Only, since Rémy was born 3 years ago my name has never appeared as “père” in the “Livret de Famille”. As I am not married to Thumpah I cannot be entered on the appropriate page. So for the last 3 years although I have been recognised as père I’ve not been in the livret.
By chance at the mairie I happened to see the nice lady who had filled in our livret de famille over 3 years ago when Rémy was born. She was brilliant, very helpful, friendly and explained everything clearly…. unlike the idiots at our local mairie who are quite frankly, hopeless.
So now my name has been entered under the names of my two children. Although it isn’t on the page for the “père” – I am over the moon about it all the same. Felt like having a little dance as we left the mairie, although Bernadette pointed out that we should go down the steps first. 🙂
Martine, my SIL, had taken Rémy home with her and Rémy’s cousin Amélie for lunch yesterday then after school for the “goûter”. That left me plenty of time to do a few things at home (go through the fridge on the hunt for gone off food and fit the door handle onto the “porte fênetre” in Emma’s room), then visit Thumpah & Emma in hospital before getting all the official stuff sorted out.
Ironically, when I got home, the British Embassy had left a message explaining the ins and outs of the Livret de Famille following my letter to them.
Yesterday morning (upon Martines suggestion) I printed off a photo of Emma and wrote a note on the back in French, for him to give to his maitress. When we got to school I hung around until he gave it to her. She was so pleased for us, I gave her the thumbs up and she came over for a little chat. It is always a short chat because of the volume of parents in the entrance of the classroom getting their kids ready for class.
So this morning, another early start and another day trying to get Rémy to do what I want him to do within a limited time-scale. I can feel my hair going grey already! I insisted I got him ready in the bathroom rather than in his bedroom. I don’t think he was very pleased about it – but you’ve got to start somewhere. Then when I left him at school he didn’t want me to go! Kept wanting a hug and then when I said goodbye to him through the window he burst into tears. As I walked down the narrow path away from the school I could still see him crying even more as I waved to him. It was really heartbreaking.
No doubt when I go and get him for lunch he’ll be totally changed… I suppose it rekindles childhood memories for me, when my own parents dumped me at school.