This time the Brit and I experienced Paris (and travel) as parents. Cobbled streets took on a new feel when pushing a stroller. Dining out was no longer a leisurely, multi-course affair with an aperitif and a bottle of wine. Now it was taking turns eating while the other one tried to keep the little half-Brit entertained. But it still felt like home.
Switching to speaking French was sometimes more of a conscious gear change rather than an automatic and fluid shift. But it still felt like home.
I'll try not to stay away so long next time... Paris still feels like home.