La rentrée!

It's a big week this week. I will head off to Biarritz today from Pau ahead of a flight to Madrid tomorrow morning. I have a 2 day planning meeting with my new EMC team. I am looking forward to going back to work so I can get some peace and quiet. Whereas I used to say that being a stay at home mum was just as hard as any other job to ensure I didn't offend anyone, now I genuinely believe it. On my way back from Madrid I will pick up a Danish girl. This has been pre-arranged - it is not as if I am giving myself 48 hours to complete a ridiculously difficult adulterous task whilst in the Spanish capital. Kathrine is our new au pair and she will replace Marianne who returns to England on Friday. Thankfully Marianne has a few weeks of holiday left to get her energy back before she embarks on her second gruelling year of academic study (and nightclubbing) in London.....In addition to all this, I am actually only spending 2 days in Madrid (the meeting is 3 days long) because Thursday 1st September is la rentrée for Maxime - his first day at school. Both Sandie and I are looking forward to this big event, maternal tears are expected. In fact I am just back this morning from taking him to the hairdressers to make sure he is looking his best. The operation was a great success although it cost me the largest chocolate gateau known to man. A big week indeed.....

Welcome Back Mimi, All is Forgiven!

Our children’s nanny, Mimi, is back from holiday. As a consequence my holidays feel like they have really started now! Chants of “Long live Mimi” have been echoing around the stud farm where we live, although Sandie’s cries were slightly muffled by her annoyance that Mimi turned up 20 minutes late on her first day back. However after two days of riding horses, warm lunches, no cleaning up of cold pasta trampled underfoot, and afternoon siestas, I have completely forgiven her that little misdemeanor. It’s just a shame I have to start work again next week!

The.....Pis......ton......Cup

Monday was a tricky day. Sandie started work again and the nanny was still on holiday for another day. I was apprehensive about the day even despite having the au pair Marianne close at hand. In the event it was much worse than I feared. That said, at 9PM when everyone was finally in bed I rolled out my prayer mat and gave thanks to the great God of Pixar Animation Studios. I dread to think how many years of prison I would have been facing for child murder if it hadn’t been for their “Cars” movie; a DVD of which somehow appeared from nowhere into Maxime’s grubby little paw at about 8AM that morning.

Admittedly we had to watch it in multiple sittings because Maxime’s attention span didn’t last longer than 45 minutes (despite the fact it is a genuinely riveting story), but no matter, Lightning McQueen saved my Monday! In a gripping tale about the race for the Piston Cup, I learnt that racing (life) is about more than just winning. Unfortunately someone seems to have told that to my horse because we’re still waiting for the clear round and victory that has eluded us all summer and again this weekend in a competition at Pau. Grrrr.

You know it's love when....

An O'Brien is prepared to spontaneously share his mint choc chip ice cream with his son. All in all a good day with Maxime - horses, mud and Michel in the morning, falling asleep together in his makeshift bed in the second bathroom (don't ask) for an afternoon siesta, and then finishing the day with visits to the doctors and the best ice cream shop in Biarritz. (Neither of us really cared about the fact that it was raining).

Short back and sides with that sir?

Biarritz is overrun with tourists at the minute so that’s good news for the town. However it’s less good news for a father of three trying to get a quick haircut. It was only at the third attempt did I manage to find someone who could take me in and do the job. Rather uncomfortably it was next door to my regular hairdresser (a delightfully pleasant gay guy who loves to stroke my hand whilst shaking it). However I doubt I will ever become a subject of conversation between them because his neighbour couldn’t be more different – a short back and sides type old school barber. What was memorable was not so much the haircut, but the ridiculously populist economic debate that raged during the 30 minutes I was there. Whilst at times I was tempted to pipe up with the odd correction, economic theory or latest quote from Paul Krugman, I decided it better to keep quiet and so continued to quietly thumb my way through the latest edition of “Playboy” which had been thrust into my hands by the barber as I sat down in his large leather chair… I am currently undecided as to whether or not I shall be returning to that particular establishment.

A Rubik Cube of Round Pegs and Round Holes?

It came pretty much out of nowhere but earlier this week I had one of the most useful conversations I’ve had with Sandie in a long time. We tried to articulate what we require to make us happy in our daily lives. For me it was spending time with Maxime, doing some sport (either riding horses notably Pich or riding my bike), eating well and having a clean house. For Sandie it was doing something as a family of five, making sure she’s up to date on her sleep, seeing her family and the odd girly beauty treatment or two. Now the trick is to fit all the parts of the puzzle into a normal working week…

Descartes, A Family Man?

“I am married and have three children therefore I no longer have any independent identity and only live for the requirements of others. Discuss.” It feels like being back at Oxford facing a tricky essay question on a Sunday night (wouldn’t that be bliss!). I suspect it is all part of the inevitable passage of life, but the transition is frustrating all the same. Now I’ll just have to slowly get used to the idea of a pot belly, permanent bags under my eyes and no hair. On that note, I am now going to head off to the hairdressers…

Holiday Postcard 1

We’re well into week 3 of my holiday and here’s a postcard style summary:

Numbers that are too high: the number of nappies changed and toddler meals administered, the number of points I amassed during the Agen show jumping, the number of hours of housework already completed, the number of days of rain in the first two weeks of being off work, the amount of outstanding emails I still need to respond to. Numbers that are too low: the number of times I have ridden a horse this week, the number of show jumping competitions I’ll be doing in August, the number of hours sleep I’ve had since this holiday started, the number of times I’ve been out on my bike, the number of hours spent on my new iMac computer, the number of outstanding Economists I need to read and the number of books I have completed.

Wish you were here!

Nous? We’re All Going to............Agen

When I say “All” I actually mean me, Maxime and a 12 year old English girl who regularly baby sits Maxime when I go and ride Pich. We’re off to a 3 day show jumping competition tomorrow without wife/mum/(genuinely) responsible adult. Sandie is nervous, I am somewhat excited, Maxime has no idea yet. That said I did have a chat with Abby’s mum tonight (who has the advantage of having had 7 (yes, seven) children), and although I wouldn’t necessarily say that I am starting to think that I have bitten off more than I can chew, I am definitely thinking about investing in some toddler reins tomorrow afternoon. I just have to make sure his “Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité” French mother doesn’t get wind of my plan.

No Kids Cliff

I am in the middle of my extended holiday between jobs. Compared to last year it is going well because I haven’t yet fractured my arm in three places nor has Sandie announced the arrival of any multiple pregnancies. That said I am also very quickly realising that holidays today are very different from holidays in the past, even those of last year……

Over the last few years at work I have realised that becoming more senior simply means that you have less time to deal with more topics at a more superficial level, and that the buck stops with you (especially if you live in Bangalore). My most recent realisation is that this piecemeal approach to work is really actually designed to help you deal with life with a young family. Holidays today mean that you get an uninterrupted 9.2 minutes to read half an Economist article, or to clean one riding boot, before you get the opportunity to come back and finish things six hours, four dirty nappies, three bottles, two spilt yoghurts and one stroppy wife later.

I now realise that Cliff Richard’s excessively happy look during his “we’re all going on a summer holiday”” jingle was largely because he didn’t have any non toilet trained toddlers knocking about at home.

40 Euro Flagellation

After having played football for so many years things are rather simplistic – you either win, lose or draw. It seems I have taken this uncomplicated view of the world into show jumping – you’re either clear (no bars down) or you’re not; as soon as one bar is down then I sort of don’t really care about the result because it’s almost guaranteed that you can’t win. As such maybe I was a bit hard on myself after Blaye – I just found out today that I had done better than I thought on the last day and I even won 40 euros. Admittedly that probably only covers about 3 horse shoes or 4 days of food for Pich, but it was a nice reminder that not everything on the equine front is bleak!