Coming back to earth with a bump #SmallFry'sadventures #Superoma

When Oma turned 60 we created a little powerpoint presentation to be played at her birthday party. In it wanted to thank our mum for being her and acknowledge her role in our lives: that our mum has also been at various times our nurse, lawyer, gardener, doctor, nanny, bank manager, couturier and plenty of other things besides.

I got another taste of that this week. Is there anything Oma cannot do? Over the past week she has provided at least 20 hours of daytime child care for 2 energetic and talkative kids; permitted four evening sorties for their parents; done all my ironing (there was a lot); my gardening (buying me new herbs, planting them, and making tea with them); sewn buttons on clothes and used needle and thread to fix a child's push-chair; glued a child's favourite handbag together; made and played playdoh; done mounds of washing; numerous baths; made pizza and pie with the kiddies; completed untold amounts of cleaning and sorting; cut Small Fry's hair for crying out loud; and been a great companion in stinking hot weather (see below) while we've trotted around various parts of Paris; given me wee moments off by myself each day; and all with a happy smile on her face and assurances that she actually wants to. 

This was inside Small Fry and Fingerling's bedroom at bedtime, just when Small Fry said 'mummy, I'm cold'.

Talk about SuperOma.

Homemade playdoh submarines, a snake, tortoise, dolphin and Pingu

Turns out that even 37 year olds need their mums.

What worries me is that one day I'll have to come up with the goods, and frankly, I'm not sure if I can (I'm 25 years younger and I can't even do now everything she's done this week). 

But we did find one flaw. There is one thing Oma cannot do. It turns out that she cannot change Clark Kent-style into a super woman outfit with a rippling red cape, swoop down out of the sky and catch the falling child right before he hits the ground: in this case, her grandson.

He slipped while he was climbing a tree in the park and fell from 1 metre up on to the ground, and landed right on his schnoz. He didn't hit either his forehead or his chin, but did graze the end of his nose and pretty quickly it started to bleed.

Right after the initial impact: starting to get a thick nose but mostly concerned about the bleeding and grazing

We went straight home and put ice on it, but it quickly swelled up and I was pretty sure he'd end up with at least one black eye. By the next day I wasn't too worried as he was really on good form - slept well, ate well and was breathing fine. Still, he was developing quite a shiner.

By the next day, the swelling was starting to partially close his eye and his nose was beginning to show many colours of the rainbow. We just so happened to have an appointment that afternoon with a dermatologist (for a heat induced rash that developed on Fingerling when we were in Corsica) and she suggested we get an x-ray, just to be sure. She even gave us a prescription which meant we could bypass A&E and go straight to the Centre for Imaging and X-rays, which is handily just around the corner from us.

While we were standing around outside the metro making the appointment for an x-ray that afternoon, a man walked past and spotted Small Fry's black eye and his keen interest in a Formula One race car that was on sale for €4.99 in the adjacent kiosk. He asked us if he could buy it for Small Fry and then asked a bit about his black eye and told us a bit more about himself - he has lived in the south of France for over 40 years and was just passing through Paris on his way back there after spending a week with his daughter on the island of Svalbard in Norway so that she could see the midnight sun (he is Norwegian - which figures because a) they are the loveliest people on the planet and b) a Frenchman would never randomly buy a kid a present like that). He has a little grandson and took pity on Small Fry and decided to cheer him up. We travelled on the metro together for a bit before our lives took us in different directions, but thanks to him Small Fry had a super duper new toy to play with as we waited for his x-ray. I never even found out his name, but I reckon he was an angel. 

 And the results of the x-ray below. Nothing broken and today we had a follow up with our local paediatric GP who confirmed that it's nothing serious, even if it's colourful.

Sorry, upside down!

So Oma might not have x-ray vision and she might not be able to save us from all the consequences of our actions, but she is still SUPER! Thank you Oma!

Truly sunny, sandy, seay #Brittany #Holidaypart2 #Totallyspoiled

And as 2 weeks of sun, sea and sand were clearly not enough, we ploughed on with yet another week at the beach, this time 1700 km to the north-west in Brittany.

And in theory that distance should make quite a difference, but it really didn't for the first 3 days.

On our way!

We spent one night in Paris en route to repack (I was thinking jumpers primarily) as well as collect Tante Helga, Onkel Frieder, Oma and Tante Margret (who flew in directly to Brest).

On the day we arrived it was already 29 degrees, and it just kept getting hotter, which might be normal in Corsica, but in Brittany it was an absolute shocker. What was I going to do with all those jumpers?

It got so hot that I actually wanted to go swimming...in the Atlantic Ocean (a full 18 degrees). Still, that's about as warm as summer gets in Scotland, so I wasn't complaining.

While in Corsica, Small Fry had started to ask lots of questions about lighthouses and El Puma pointed out that there was just one up the road from Abuelo and Moon's house in Brittany. So we took him on his first visit, and mine too, even though it's only about 10 minutes away.

Here it is, the Phare de Saint Matthieu (St Matther's Lighthouse) - a beautiful specimen, set on a unique spot beside the ruins of an old abbey. It now only sends out a white signal every 15 seconds, which directs vessels towards the entrance to the port of Brest (rather than a red danger signal warning vessels of rocks).

Small Fry, continuing his current lack of courage phase, refused to climb it even though the views were especially worth it on such a sunny day.

View from the top

Memorial to those lost at sea

 And then it was finally time to get our toes wet, down at the local beach. 

 So that was successful then.

Never mind, they have a few more years to learn how fun it is to swim in freezing water.

The next day we again did something else that I hadn't done before: visited Brest Castle and the Maritime Museum that is located there. And that was also well worth it. I'm pretty sure I've been missing out on being a tourist.

 And that sort of thing continued for a couple more days, apart from the excitement of:

double skinned knees!

playing with the cat!

Helping (by trying them on) mama put old (i.e. too small) clothes into storage!

helping Moon celebrate her birthday!

Group shot at Tonton Le Druz and Miel's home. Yes, home.

 ...and the second funniest event of the week: watching a nude Fingerling follow the cat into the rose bushes. (More on the funniest one later.) 

A sunset coastal drive (children not included)

And on our final day, we went to visit the Fort de Bertheaume...again, not even 5km from Locmaria-Plouzané, and again, never been visited before by yours truly. Again, another stunning location. It turns out that Brittany is quite beautiful. Especially in the sunshine.

The fort is built on a tidal island (which is now connected by a foot bridge) and guarded the entrance to the port of Brest further along the coast. 

Looking from the island to the coast

Looking from the coast to the island

And of course, that funniest moment: El Puma put his foot into his shoe where a ma-HOO-sive wasp was already residing. She gave him a great big sting right on the end of his big toe. Abuelo got straight to work mixing 3 different types of leaves and eventually used heat to draw out the venom. I provided very sympathetic noises for at least 5 minutes and then got the camera out.

And then just like that it was over. Although the kids kindly let the holiday drag on for an extra hour or two while they slept simultaneously in the train.

 But, you know, there's always someone wanting to play...