So I have a wee announcement to make.
It's good news this time, I promise. Really, I'm trying to be easy on you guys with the level of cray that I've been throwing your way these past few months.
So without further ado, I'm proud to announce that...
I finally got a job! Like a real one with a CDI French work contract to start, health benefits, and what I have been itching to get my little hands on these past three years: ticket restos! Finally, I'm able to tap into all the goodies that come along with getting a work contract in France. I feel so official.
You thought that I was going to announce that I was pregnant, didn't you? As if! That's a blog post for like 2016!
So the big news is that I'm working now.
Is it something as glamorous as working in fashion? I'm sorry to report that it is not. I finally had to face the fact that French fashion companies don't want to hire me full time. Why? Who knows. I'm done trying. Moving on.
Is it my second dream job working at McDonalds where I can stuff my face with Egg McMuffins and deluxe potatoes to my heart's delight (and dismay)? Unfortunately, it is not. After all of your responses to my once in a blue trip to chez MacDo, I feel shame just by walking by one!
Is it the most original job for an expat with native English speaking skills to have? Pfff. Hardly.
Do I like it so far? Absolutely.
So what am I doing? Are you ready?
As of two weeks ago, I have been hired as an English professor....
..for French children. And all of my students are boys.
My boys have already challenged me by writing fesse on the blackboard, entertaining themselves over the idea that I don't know the word butt in French. They clearly don't know me. That was probably the first word I learned in French.
I've had one tell me that he thinks his mother is having an affair because she is always at chez Antoine, and life is hard because his boredom consumes him in waves. He's 3.
And I was never really on board with the blanket statements that seem to be all the rage in America, that French kids are better than American kids. Saying that, I must report that I had to give up my afternoon snack of raw string beans to my 5 year old because he told me he was obsessed with raw greens, and he just had to have them, s'il vous plaît. Maybe there is something to be said about French kids and their eating habits, or maybe the raw food movement is finally hitting the toddler market. I blame Gwyneth Paltrow.
This is an unexpected turn of events that I'm actually enjoying. These muchkins keep me extremely entertained with their side comments, tiny breathy oh là làs, and their reluctance to speak English.
So on to the next chapter of my life of bringing up bébé....en anglais.
If you're an expat in France or living abroad else where,
Bon week-end! What was happening a year ago today? Well let's just say I shook up the girl who robbed me.
