Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Oui Oui Oui All the Way Home

At least everyone cries in the same language---I decided I had this going for me as I sat alone in a deserted gas station parking lot, unsure if the crazy French machine accepted my credit card or wondering if I had just stolen 50 Swiss Francs worth of their overpriced gasoline. With scenes of Brokedown Palace playing through my head and no idea how to navigate home, I went ahead and gave in to an overdue meltdown.  My backseat, eerily absent of baby babble as Amelia slept soundly at her first co-ed sleepover so I could take my sick, lethargic husband to the emergency room, looked like a better place than ever to lay down and the let the Swiss know, in no particular language, how an American girl cries.

The only thing worse than having OCD while your husband sleeps in a germ infested hospital room is having OCD while your husband is quarantined in isolation in a germ infested hospital room.  Since progressively worsening upon his recent return from Egypt, Matt was admitted at four in the morning symptomatic of everything from E Coli to the Plague.
Poor Hubs

Between the half nude gypsy clan in the waiting room and the staff’s inability to understand broken French and sign language for “my husband’s about to hurl,” it finally happened. Since first arriving in this new, confusing, breathtaking world, I felt profoundly and devastatingly homesick.

Taking a seat next to gypsy chick and trying not to stare at her exposed gargantuan nipple, I closed my eyes and thought of all of you, my friends back home, and what you were doing on your side of the pond.  I recalled old inside jokes and wondered about all the new ones of which I’d never be a part.  I thought about all the bachelorette parties and the stories told over margaritas and I could almost hear all your laughter. I recalled our game nights and trips to the casinos and tried for the life of me to figure out where the time had gone. I thought of all the babies being born and the vows being made and the newest Britney Spears' songs I would miss on my ridiculous French radio…and there, right next to a vagabond’s nipple, I silently wept. 

Life eventually returned to its new definition of normal as Matt is back to his usual self. After being hospitalized for two days, he was diagnosed with a severe case of food poisoning and dehydration.  He never quite learned to walk like an Egyptian, though he sure learned to puke like one. 

As for me, I pass the time reading and taking in all the sights with Amelia---the castles, the wine vineyards, the unparalleled Lake Geneva and its Swiss Alps’ backdrop (though secretly, I would trade it all for a day on Lake Decatur with a Salty Dog Cooler of Bud Light and my favorite people in the universe). 

My new, amazing friend Kate eventually made it to the deserted gas station with my rested baby and the assurance my petro was paid in full.  I dried my tears, followed her home, popped Britney’s first album into my European car’s CD player, and sang at the top of my lungs in my infamous Brit Brit voice. I wanted to show them how an American girl laughs. 


  1. Without Switzerland, there would be no Blogs! Hang in there and keep us laughing as you cry :) Three years worth of blogs and you'll soon be home.

  2. There are times I would like to sit down and cry too. I find myself tearing up over the silliest things, like something on television; yet not crying when there is really something to cry about. I need to cry about my Dad, but I guess it will either come in time or not... The laughter will definitely have to wait.

  3. I have a 20 year pregnant bride to be and the 18 year old is about to leave me for school plus I work full time at a crazy job. Talk about wanting to cry. But you my dear make me laugh. Thanks to your mama for posting new blogs.

  4. YOU, are a survivor Stef. These are the building blocks of your remarkable life. Thanks for sharing your life in script. Keep breathing....and laughing! Love ya.

  5. Awe my Stef I wish I could give you a big hug

  6. that's the funniest story I have ever heard...wish I was there.


  7. Awww Stef! It'll get better with more time. You'll still always miss home, but just think of what an amazing life you're getting to experience for awhile! It's a real life adventure! I'm going to visit, and we're going to drink way too much wine at those vineyards you mention :). Love ya.