Adventures in Trilingualism, the Revived Blog

Welcome to our new lives in Paris, where we are on Day 10. Just when Malanga Baby/Toddler/GIRL was switching effortlessly between Spanish and English and begging to learn Turkish like one of her dear friends in the neighborhood, we whisked her away to France. No matter, she has embraced the change with her usual joie de vivre. Thanks to the millions of references to the Eiffel Tower in books like "Madeline" and even "Barbie: A Fashion Fairy Tale," our little girl's first question as soon as we landed was, "where's the Eiffel Tower?"

Despite the fact that the temperature at the top of the Eiffel Tower in January is probably close to what it is in Antarctica, Malanga Girl reveled in her visit, which included a trip to the merry-go-round across the street. I would venture to say that the view from the merry-go-round is the most charming one I've had of the Tower in all my visits to this city. At 3 Euros a ride, don't miss it, even if you won't be in Paris with a child.

Last Sunday, we went to the Musee en Herbe, a kids' museum on the Right Bank that was fun enough for a short visit, but would not constitute a day-long activity like some other children's museums we've been to in the past.

Monday marked the first day of school and despite all my apprehensions about life en français, we were greeted at the door by the one English-speaking teacher at the school. Accompanying her were two little girls who speak Spanish at home, so I couldn't have asked for a warmer welcome. Malanga Girl took to the new environment immediately. And lest I think no French-learning was happening, Malanga Girl surprised me in the middle of a very crazy, crowded department store last night (we're in the middle of the big after-Christmas sales) by suddenly proclaiming, "quatre, cinq, six..." I nearly dropped the 40% off Le Creuset pot I was clutching in my hands and asked her if she knew what "quatre" meant. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world, she responded, "quatre is four." I then asked her to say more numbers. The French people around us must have wondered why in the world I thought it was necessary to have my daughter recite "un, deux, trois..." right then and there, but I was more ecstatic than the sum combination of all the shoppers on all 7 floors of that department store who had found the bargains of their dreams.

And now I have to make the very difficult decision of which picture to post here. Shall I showcase the whimsical views of the Eiffel Tower from the merry-go-round? Upload a video of my very own Malanga Girl saying "un, deux, trois" in our living room? Or how about some shots from yesterday's visit to the Musee de la Poupee- the doll museum- a place that was absolutely magical if you have ever had an attachment to dolls yourself? Maybe I'll have to devote some posts this week to pictures only?