We all slept past 8 this morning, hallelujah. I headed out on a solo mission at 9 to get some groceries, but the store didn’t open until 9:30. While waiting, I noticed a small boulangerie with a line out the door. So in addition to groceries I returned to our Airbnb with the best croissants of our life.

We had a slow start and eventually got out the door at about 10. After a brief, timeboxed stop to play at a park, we hopped on the metro and went towards Notre Dame. Nick had been wanting to see its restoration after listening to a podcast all about the process. The line was around the block but moved quickly.

As we walked inside we were met with beautiful choral music and the smell of frankincense and myrr. It was only then that I realized it was Sunday and we were now attending mass at Notre Dame.

Millie was enthralled. The music was beautiful and very intense. The pomp and circumstance of the men in their robes, walking up and down the aisles with big candles, was, to a non-church goer like myself, kind of silly. At one point Millie asked what they were doing and Nick explained the mass as “a performance”. I couldn’t have said it better myself.

She had a lot of deep questions as we made our way through. We sat below a large sculpture of Jesus and she asked me who he was. I explained that he was a man that a lot of people think is very important and special, so they use him for prayer. She asked what prayer is. I explained that it’s hoping and wishing, and thinking about what you want. She noticed lots of imagery of people doing “prayer hands” and asked why they did that. I said I didn’t know. I could see her little brain moving, trying to connect all the confusing pieces.

There was a lot of disturbing imagery that she asked about. I didn’t really have a great explanation for why there were carvings of men hurting babies.

The restoration was incredible. Everything felt vibrant and new, for better or worse.

From here we walked to Jardin du Luxembourg, the best park in Paris. Millie was losing steam at a rapid rate and had her thumb in her mouth for the whole time. A good gauge of tiredness is thumb-in-mouth time.

It was packed and beautiful. We finally got to the playground, which we had to pay €8 to enter. Everything in Paris costs money, which feels like a racket compared to London where all museums are free and there’s a playground on every corner. Millie got knocked on the playground while playing, which put her over the edge into the cry zone. As I was holding her and walking around, she started falling asleep on my shoulder. We spent about 20 minutes on a bench while she rested.

She got a small second wind when she saw other little kids riding ponies through the park. This was €10 we couldn’t say no to. We waited in a long line and finally walked her around the park on a sad little horse. She loved it.

While better than recent days, she still seemed tired and accordingly whiny. We decided to head back early to have a picnic dinner at our Airbnb. We picked up good bread and bits and pieces on the way.

Sunday movie night is becoming a tradition. Last week, in the English countryside, was Fantastic Mr. Fox. Tonight, in Paris, is Ratatouille. I can hear Millie and Nick and laughing hysterically as I write this post.