Transitions

As a parent, I am always amazed by the way my kids seem to mature in bursts. They start out as helpless blobs, then suddenly they develop a personality all their own. They're babies for a while, then suddenly they turn into toddlers with independent wills. After toddlerhood there's a sudden transition into being little kids. And then big kids. And now, both of mine have had another sudden lurch, this time into middle school-dom. 

It's a funny age, middle school. A combination of tweens and teens, starting to pull away from family bonds and transition into friends as their primary social connection. Independent in many ways, but still very dependent on parents and needing support for getting schoolwork done, managing their schedules, getting places, nudging them into good habits for hygiene and studying and time management. They're not really responsible adults yet, but they're not really helpless children, either. It's a time of transition. 

And the transition isn't just for them; it's a big transition for their parents, too. Suddenly I'm not as necessary as I was. My kids don't need me to manage their social lives; they'll head over to a friend's house unprompted or arrange a meet-up at the park on their bikes. I don't need to sit with them while they do their homework, I can just give it a quick once-over when they're done. Instead of me deciding they'll take gymnastics or dance classes or be in a play, they tell me they want to join a club or a team or take a class. My role as a parent, although even more crucial than ever, is transitioning into making fewer decisions. I'm no longer the drill sergeant controlling every move, I'm simply the overseer making sure tasks are completed and occasionally offering guidance when there's a problem.

Parenting, in many ways, is planned obsolescence. It's essentially training your children to take over your job. In other words, my whole job is to work my way out of my job.

As any parent will tell you, that letting go is not easy. It's like the first time your child rides a bike without training wheels: you have to let go, even knowing that a crash is inevitable once you do. Children can't learn independence without a crash now and then. The crash will teach them more than the training wheels will, or can. And if you catch them instead of letting them crash, or hold them back from the chance to crash, they'll continue to expect to be caught and they won't develop the confidence to ride unassisted. You need to let go so they learn they can do it on their own, even if it takes a few tries (and a few crashes). 

It's hard to watch your kids struggle, or make mistakes, or get hurt. Of course we want to protect our children from all that. But pain is part of how we learn, and pain is part of adult life, so without that pain, they'll never learn to navigate life on their own. The transition from being a parent who protects their small child from the pain that comes with life into the parent who allows their older child to deal with (and learn from) the pain that comes with life is one of the hardest parts of parenting. 

It is also one of the most satisfying. Because the result is children who can think for themselves, children who have the confidence to make decisions on their own, children who can cope with the difficulties that life throws at them. Children who make their parents proud. Children who become adults who begin the cycle all over again as parents who raise confident, competent, independent children. Children who we, as grandparents, get to enjoy watching transition through all those stages. 

Not a bad reward, that. 

Philpott Family Adventures, European Vacation 2023 (Part dix)

It's our last full day on board the Diamond, so we intend to make the most of it, including getting up early enough for our 6am sail from Bourg to Blaye. It was the first time we had seen any kind of waves, which the captain told us was because we were getting closer to the ocean. 

Friday, June 30th

It was a rare overcast morning, but the sky was beautiful and the light breeze kept the temperature comfortable. 

We set out on the coaches for our destination of the day, Chateau de la Roche Courbon, which means "Courbon's castle of the rock". We saw more beautiful scenery from the coach windows, including vineyards, hayfields, and huge fields of tall sunflowers (which are planted to refresh the soil when old grapevines are torn out) that turned to face the sun. It was funny to see such a riot of vivid gold when you looked forward, but only a sea of green when you turned to look back. Being near the sea, the area is known for oysters, fleur de sel (a type of salt formed by evaporating seawater), potatoes, caviar (from sturgeon), truffles, saffron, mussels (which are commonly smoked over pine), escargot, and garlic. 

 

The chateau had an impressive stone gate leading to the castle, which has a local nickname of "Sleeping Beauty's Castle," as it had fallen into disrepair at one point and a "prince" (or at least a wealthy gentleman) bought it and restored it, partly with his own funds and partly by writing a newspaper article to call attention to its historical value. Lovely carved details were everywhere, including a mascaron depicting Medusa (presumably to scare away evil spirits or unwanted visitors). 

The entrance to the castle itself was a massive stone tower with an arched entryway leading into a large courtyard. Once through the tower, we could see the remnants of ancient walls around the dry moat. Behind the castle there was stretch of spectacular gardens with a system of ponds and canals. Our guide brought us up to a balcony that overlooked the gardens, and explained that when they were first planted, they kept sinking underwater because it was so marshy. But an engineer figured out how to prop up the whole area on hidden stilts, in addition to drawing off the water into pools and canals. One of the statues in the back garden can be seen to be listing slightly due to having sunk in the past. 

The listing statue

The view from the balcony of the castle

The grounds were filled with colorful wildflowers and roses in vivid shades of purple, red, and gold, as well as fantastical topiaries and neatly trimmed hedges. 

Wild white morning glories peek their way through hedges and other flowers, not only here, but everywhere in southern France. 

There were also plenty of stone statues and towers around the pond, which was being enjoyed by a number of water birds, including a sleeping swan. 

Looking back toward the castle from the gardens

We learned some interesting historical tidbits as we toured the interior of the castle. For example, did you ever wonder why it's called a "chest" of drawers? It's because the wealthy would travel from chateau to chateau bringing their clothes and furniture with them. Clothes were carried in a trunk, or chest, but it could be inconvenient to have to dig through layers, so chests began to be made with a front panel that dropped down to reveal two or three shelves that could be pulled out to access the middle and lower layers, and eventually those evolved into drawers. We also learned how old clothes and linens (bed linens, curtains, tablecloths, etc.) were recycled by cutting them into narrow strips, rolling them tightly, and weaving them on a loom to make carpets or heavy upholstery fabric. 

There were also elegant classical statues and gorgeous tapestries inside the castle 

After the house tour, we walked to the far end of the garden, which had a series of terraced reflecting pools that were filled by a waterfall. We climbed the stairs for a glorious view of the gardens and the back of the castle. 

Also at the far end of the gardens, we found a prehistoric museum with a display of human bones, teeth, and tools from various time periods found on or near the property. We had to climb a lot of steps (like, a lot a lot) to reach the museum, but it was worth it. 

The remains of a prehistoric human skeleton found on site

We admired the rose gardens and more flowering shrubs on our way back to the coach. The grounds were truly the most beautiful place we visited during the entire trip.

When we got back on board in time for lunch, the tide had risen so the gangway went directly past our cabin. Fortunately, we weren't one of the passengers who had left their unmentionables on their balcony to dry!

My penultimate soup: a delicious combination of Alsatian beer and muenster cheese, paired with a pate served with radish and horseradish cream.  

When we returned to our cabin, we were reminded that tomorrow was the end of our tour, because our steward, Ivo, had laid out mats at the end of our bed so we could pack our luggage and be ready to go early in the morning. 

But we had one final adventure still to go: a cooking class with Chef Orlando, learning to make French Onion Soup! The secret is using a combination of beef, chicken, and vegetable stock, as well as red and white wine and port. And simmering everything for hours. Using really good bread and cheese for the crouton helps, too. The bread was carefully baked to be a perfect fit for the bowls!

So scrumptious! After our lesson, we headed back to the lounge for cocktails before dinner. I had to try the salted caramel White Russian as the gang gathered for one last game of cards.

We headed back to Bordeaux one last time, passing once again this funky, glass-topped building with a rectangular open arch underneath, which we eventually learned was a new ecologically-forward apartment building built by Dutch architects called the Ilots Queyries. It has a ceramic skin! 

Despite the cloudy skies, it was a little muggy, so we hopped ashore to cool off in the splash pool by the quay one more time. 

Back on board for one last magnificent dinner, tonight's piece de resistance was a slightly spicy chicken breast over delightfully crispy "straw potatoes," topped off with a light but delicious dessert, "traditional Paris brest," which was a French cruller filled with a light coffee-infused buttercream and a little drizzle of caramel sauce. It begged to be accompanied by a cup of espresso or cappuccino.

Being our last evening on board, and since everyone was departing on their own schedule in the morning, it was a time for goodbyes to old friends and new, friends near and far, and passengers and crew alike. 

There was no other way to end the night besides dancing until (almost) dawn. I was impressed by how many of our friends could dance full out with a full wine glass and never spill a drop!

As sad as I am to see this wonderful cruise come to an end, I'm looking forward to our kids rejoining us tomorrow for the next phase of our adventure: Brussels, Belgium!