The first cut is the deepest

Well, it has been done. Aidan's hair has been cut. 20 months old. Yes, I am that mother who counts months. I said I would not be, but I am. It is only when you have children that you care how many months they are. No one else does, except other mothers. So, for anyone who is counting and his therapist in the future, he was 20 months old at his first cut. I have withheld the premiere coupe (first hair cut in French) hoping that he would have perfect thick, curly hair. But sadly, that has not happened. So, we embarked upon our first cut today. He was so brave, from mom's lap. Not a peep. No bribes, no candy, nothing. Just sat there perfectly. Who's child is this? For Jaylee's first cut my friend Farrah had to bring her a Cabbage Patch Doll. We tried to cut her hair inside, then outside, nothing worked it was a nightmare! So, with this as my history I was prepared. But, to my surprise, he was perfect! However, nothing goes completely smooth for me. During the cut a man walks up and asks me a question...
"McCain or Obama?"
Only my mother knows that a cold sweat was running down my back at this moment. During a beauty pageant in high school there was an interview process if you made it so far in the contest. Well, I made it in and to my surprise the girls question in front of me was..."What would you do if you were the President of the United States Right now?" Her response..."If I was Bush (who the hell is Bush? Remember I'm sixteen.) I would go in there and kick Saddam Husain's butt (who?@$$)." Let's just say current events not exactly my thing. Now, in my thirties, all I'm thinking at this point in my life is what does this room of men want to hear out of me? And which answer is going to get my son the best hair cut?

I should have known that today was going to be good when I woke up before anyone else! Also, after cursing the whole country of France for false advertisement on English speaking Doctor's, my day turned around. Once we got home, we put the kids down for a nap and I was determined to find a doctor. A bit of background for you all.
When an ex-pat moves to France you are given many books of literature. Filled with bilingual Dr's and Schools. You feel fabulous. So, taken care of. But, wait. Nothing is ever as simple as it seems in your mind. That great school, that sounds fabulous. Full. Oh, you are not on the waiting list? Didn't you know when you became pregnant with your now four year old, that one day you would move to France? No. Oh, that is unfortunate, sorry. I feel a curse word deep inside of me that wants to come out.
Now, on to the Doctors. Again, move to France, get a list of English speaking Dr's. Oh you silly fool. Should have asked for a list of French speaking bitchy receptionist that claim Doc does not speak English. Here is a little tip to the English speaking Pediatricians in France...hire a bilingual receptionist!!! If they cannot make an appointment in English take your name off of the English speaking list!!!! So, I call my friend Katie to vent and I get the name and number of Docteur Nancy Salzman. Guess what. Receptionist...completely bilingual. We have an appointment! So, if you ever find yourself in France and need a Docteur you can reach her by drsalzman@noos.fr She is a family Physician and has the nicest front desk in all of France!
Finally, after this day of phone calls I have a small confession. I might be a tad bit drunk while writing this blog. I blame it all on Katie! Actually, I will say it was the best evening in France I have had so far! We met the friendliest waitress in all of Rue St. Charles and I will post the name of the place as soon as I know it. Might, be a while, I feel a headache coming in the morning.

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