Having two teenagers in a tiny apartment in the middle of the Marais, is a challenge and dare I say a ‘joy.’ The quaint exposed wood beam ceiling, pirate stairs up to the mezzanine and the treehouse alcove, creates a chaotic environment for one to live in, yet suits my two teenagers and myself, almost perfectly.
There has to be rules-the first being- no sex- and then the usual: putting clothes away, washing dishes, tidying etc…general house rules. I think we have failed with every rule, except the first one.
I am not sure of the statistics in relation to population growth in France but I can assure you, the romanticised city of Paris, is hardly a place for a marital relationship with kids. It is ‘almost’ a good thing I am single with kids, as I have no idea how parenting couples manage their private lives in a Parisian apartment, unless they are exceptionally wealthy.
This is a blog about being single (and young), teenagers and Paris…and possibly the search for the a relationship in this ancient modern city, where there are cultural differences and language barriers to conquer as well as all the Americans, who come to write and follow Hemmingway, Fitzgerald and others and are searching for that charming, romantic Frenchman.