Happy Thanksgiving!

Overheard last week in Zurich:
Happy Turkey Day!
It's Turkey Day?
I mean Happy Thanksgiving.
Oh, I thought you meant it was Turkey's (country) national holiday.

Yep, we're not in the U.S. any more. Further evidence included the fact that I worked on Thanksgiving, Chloe had school on Thanksgiving and stores here moved straight from Halloween merchandise to Christmas.

But we celebrated anyway in our own way on Friday by inviting our friends over (one family of 6 and a friend of theirs, and our single guy friend) and eating all the old standbys. It actually felt exactly like Thanksgiving when we all piled into the house, toys were flying by, kids were in every room, food was everywhere and there was barely enough room at the table for all the people and food. Chloe went to bed at 10 p.m. if that is an indication of the good time we were having.

Oh, and tonight is all about leftovers...so frankly, it feels just like home.

Holiday Tourists

This week, I made two visits to the Swiss Embassy to get a work visa since I'm spending so much time there. The easiest way to get there was the 414 bus - and online, it said it was a 40 minute ride. That didn't sound too bad - I thought I'd end up reading the entire way. But within seconds, I was car sick, so started watching out the window. And frankly, it was a lovely trip.

I passed the history museum with a winter ice rink and merry go round out side. I passed the Victoria Albert museum with holiday decorations outside. I passed Harrod's, and felt like a child, enthralled by its lights that made the huge building look like it glittered. I passed Hyde Park, where they are holding a Winter Wonderland. I passed the huge arch in the middle of the city (can't remember its name!) and then Marble Arch. It got me so excited again that I live here, so on the way back, I got off at Harrod's and walked around for a few minutes - and the effect is dizzying. I hadn't been in Harrod's yet - amazingly - and I can't wait to go back when I have a day to get lost!

The next day, I had to take a different bus back from the embassy, to head to the office, and it took me down Oxford and Regent Street. Again, the lights, the stores, the people - it was fantastic.

So, this weekend, we scrapped plans to go to the National Gallery Museum (it was too nice a day anyway!), and we headed to Oxford Street. Chloe is doing a little play at school soon, and is a duck, so needed some specific clothes. We shopped - along with a million other people - our way along Oxford, had a wonderful lunch in the middle of it all, walked through Mayfair (likely the poorest people there!) and ended up home late in the afternoon exhausted from being holiday tourists. It's a lot of work!

But, we're not done yet. I have an extensive list of holiday activities to get in before we head back the states - a visit to the Hyde Park Winter Wonderland, a visit to Covent Garden for reindeer petting, ice skating in one of the many places around (once Chloe's new double-bladed skates are delivered)...

But first, we are going to celebrate Thanksgiving on Friday with some friends. The turkey is ordered, the ingredients for the sides are purchased and we hope to overeat - American style.

Zurich

Since I spend about half of my working hours in Zurich, we thought it was a good idea to bring the family for a weekend and see this little city up close. The truth is, during the last five months, I have seen little more than the office building, two hotels and a number of very nice restaurants with very beautiful views (but that I'm usually too tired to enjoy). So, it seemed like time.

I got here on Thursday to do two days of work, and then Mike brought both kids on the plane to meet me. That's right - I said Mike brought both kids on the plane (Rowan on his lap for goodness sake). And, while I had already lugged our huge suitcase and one stroller with me, it was not an easy feat. The morning before he got on the plane, I got an email saying, "remind me that I can do this!"

But he did, and he did it with great patience. When they arrived everyone was happy and the kids proceeded to spend an hour putting on a "light show" with the many light switches in reach from the bed.

Saturday, we had a perfect day. We headed early to the Dolder Sport Complex up in the hills to ice skate. This was the first time Chloe had ever ice skated, and the rink had little double bladed skates that hooked right to her boots. We got to the edge of the ice, and I lifted her to set her on the ice...and she refused to put her feet down. I thought that might be the end of it, but instead let her sit on the edge and set her feet on the ice and she was up immediatly. It probably took us 25 minutes to get around the first time, and then, she refused to hold my hand and shimmied her little way around the second time with barely any help. They had little polar bears that had handles and I could pull, while she held on. She wasn't as into that, because frankly she just wanted to skate alone. Sometimes she would give me both hands so we could "go fast" and I'd do my best to move us quickly without falling on our heads!  Even Rowan gave it a try - we let him hold onto the polar bear and walk around on the ice in his little boots. It was such a great time - skating around for almost two hours, with beautiful trees in the background, thinking about the fact that Chloe (and Rowan for that matter!) can say the first time she (he) ice skated was in Switzerland.

From there, we walked up this huge hill (stopping first to climb up a huge rock) and found a very Swiss little restaurant called the Adlisberg. It was in the middle of cow fields, with a horse stable next door. We had a wonderful meal, a nice glass of wine and two cooperative kids. After visiting with the horses for a long time, we walked back down, caught the adorable little train back down the hill, and then roamed around little cobble streets where Chloe actually passed out in her stroller...so we headed to the main shopping area Bahnoffstrasse, and while Rowan was content and Chloe was asleep we just walked around and talked. It was lovely.

We got to the lake as Chloe woke up, played in a big square for awhile, and then roamed a bit more, before catching the tram back to the area with our hotel. We had dinner at a Mexican restaurant (funny, since we were in Zurich) and then Chloe and I went swimming in the 32nd floor infinity pool of the hotel. It was beautiful, the view was amazing and we had a great time. One of the best moments of the day for me is when the spa attendant brough in a tray of cups of orange juice. You would have thought she brought Chloe a pile of chocolate she was so happy. In fact, with no prompting, she toasted me, holding up her cup with both hands and saying, "cheers mommy." I almost died with love.

Sunday, we had the great pleasure of going to our friends' house outside of Zurich for lunch. They let the kids run wild while their 7-year-old daughter took total care of them and was thrilled to do so. We had a nice meal, and then headed to the lake to feed the ducks. We walked around their little village, and then back to the house, where Rowan took a nap, Chloe watched some TV and at one point, Mike was actually able to sit out on the terrace with his friend, have a beer and look at the sun shining on the lake. Something he deserved after all the work he'd put into getting himself and the kids there!

What did this weekend teach me? A few things - first, Zurich is very pretty. It isn't a crazy tourist place, but it is all about simple beauty. Second, my kids are incredible and patient travelers. Third, my husband is a saint.

Oh, and most importantly, happy anniversary Mike! You gave me a great gift this weekend.

Brighton

When we moved, we intended to cram as much Europe into our lives as possible. Our first step was to learn our neighborhood. And we're old pros around here now. Then, we spent some time getting to know London in general - and while I wouldn't say we're pros, I think we've seen quite a bit of the city considering we're always weighed down by a huge stroller and diaper bag no matter where we go. And then we wanted to branch out to more of Europe, and we got ourselves to Paris. Yep, it was a crazy trip, but we're so proud of it.

So, I'm pleased to say that now, we've done a trip outside of the city, but still within England and man, did we have a good time.

On Saturday morning, we headed to Brighton. It took only one hour to get there on a rather empty and lovely train. We had waited until the very last minute (Friday night!) to make a hotel reservation so were a bit worried about what we would find, but were absolutely thrilled to enter a lovely hotel in the marina with a great lobby and friendly staff to our kids. We dropped our luggage at the front desk (after diaper changes, reorganizing the diaper bag and Chloe playing with strangers) and jumped on a bus to the beach. 

I had read that the beach was pebbles, not sand, but I didn't expect to like it as much as I did. Or for Chloe and Rowan to love it either. But, it turns out, the beach was made of fist sized round rocks, which were actually soft and warm. And they didn't stuck all over us like sand would have. Rowan loved to pick up handfuls of the little ones and drop them, and Chloe loved taking the big ones and flinging them into the ocean. She has a wicked side arm.

I actually teared up sitting on the shore of the sea with Chloe, because out of nowhere, as the tide pulled away from the shore, and the rocks gently bumped into each other, I realized that our kids have an opportunity to see things they never could have without this move. Maybe they won't remember it, but perhaps it won't surprise them to know that rocks can whisper and that places like this exist.

After spending an hour on the beach, we walked down the very long boardwalk, watching the merry go rounds, peeking in little shops in search of Mike and my red car (what we get on each trip we go on) and stopping all along the way to see the amazing beach. 

After walking awhile, we came to a huge outdoor bar on the water with a live band - and there is nothing Chloe likes better than live music - so we settled in, ordered fish and chips and beer, and listened to the music in the sun. Did I mention that the weather was perfect? 74, sunny, puffy clouds that gave relief with a nice breeze in certain places. After lunch, Chloe wore...I mean ate, a chocolate ice lolly and we continued our walk.

A few minutes later we discovered a play area with giant trampolines - chloe jumped as long as they'd let her, which now that I write that, I feel lucky we didn't see her lunch again!

And then we walked back to where Chloe could ride a little merry go round, and after taking it all in a little longer, we got back on the bus and went back to the hotel to relax. Chloe fell asleep on the way there and stayed asleep as we settled in and Rowan played around her.

The room was great - big enough that two pack n plays they provided fit with plenty of playing room. A big white soft bed, and a large and effective fan - I love a good fan at night!

When everyone was awake and refreshed, we walked along the marina, which had a huge kids play area, and alas, another trampoline, which Chloe spent 20 minutes on. Then we checked out the restaurants and opted for a sweet little italian place across from the hotel in a huge courtyard. It was perfect - loud enough not to bother people, nice enough to have good food and the kids were so good that we had people from another table stop by to tell us that they were the best behaved kids they have seen at that age. While sometimes that isn't necessarily true, this time it was!

While Mike finished his dinner and paid the bill, I took both kids out into the courtyard where we played, had a puppet show and raced. A few people stopped to play with the kids and then a bunch of other kids came out to play tag/hide and seek. Chloe raced around the courtyard thrilled to be part of something with other kids, and it was 8 p.m. when we finally got back to the hotel.

We weren't sure how the one-room for all of four of us situation would go, but it was fine. We all went to bed at 9 p.m., and other than a brief interlude in the middle of the night when Chloe got in bed with us, it was a great night's sleep. In the morning, Rowan woke up before Chloe, so he and Mike played in the lobby for an hour, then we all got ready and had a great breakfast overlooking the marina.

We decided to walk from the marina to the pier (about 30 minutes) and along the way found a great playground where we spent an hour watching as some dark clouds rolled in. They held off as we finally got to the pier and roamed around watching some of the rides as they turned on for the day. We didn't really plan it, but being at the pier before everything was open and it was crowded proved to be a great idea. Then we decided to go to The Lanes (part of the town where they have cobble streets, litte alley ways with shops and great restaurants) for lunch. After buying a beautiful print from a little art store, we settled in a seat outside, ordered lunch, and then felt the first drops...

We had eaten most of our sandwiches when the rain began. It was a scurry then. I took Rowan in the little cafe to put him in the sling. Mike put the rain cover over Chloe in the stroller and then it really started to come down. The cafe was too small for us and the stroller, so we grabbed our umbrellas and started making our way back to the bus stop. It took some time, as we joined others huddled under cover from the complete downpour. When we finally got to the bus stop, it had been pouring for an hour and we were fairly wet (not the kids, just me and Mike). It was great timing though, because it was time to head home.

The hotel lobby proved to be perfect again for us, as we sat in a quiet little side area to play, used the lobby bathrooms for changing diapers and clothes, repacked our bags and just got ready to go.

The train was practically waiting for us when we arrived at the station, and the ride back was peaceful, with Rowan asleep on me and Chloe watching Elmo. And it was about the easiest trip back we could have conceived of...until we got off the train, began up the steps out of the station and I realized we didn't have our suitcase. Could have been worse - we could have left a kid on the train.

It actually proved to be rather simple to get the bag - Mike just followed it on the next train and caught it two stops later when the train stops to turn around. I, on the other hand, had quite an adventure getting the two kids and the stroller out of the train station (no lift), onto another train (no lift) and onto a bus to get us home. But, we got there happy and tired and thrilled to have made the trip.

Overall takeaway: We love Brighton.

A month behind - but that's okay

I'm about a month behind in posting. But I refuse to apologize (not that you were asking me to!). Because lately I have realized I'm not really posting because more than ever before in my life, I am living more in the moment. Part of the reason is that we live in a city where if we want to do something, we can - with very little planning. And that is lucky, because the other part of why we're living in the moment is because we have no time to reflect on what we've done or even plan ahead on what is to come. I'm traveling to Zurich regularly for work, leaving Mike to get it done at the house, which really means very little time for much else.

But even with all of that said, we have done some pretty cool things in the last month.

In mid-July, my parents came to visit, blending very nicely into the life we've built here and finding some time to enjoy London too. In fact, they came home some nights and told us about tourist things in London we have yet to see, or perhaps will never see!

My mom stayed for two more weeks than my dad, allowing me to travel for work with much less guilt than usual and finding plenty of time to play with the kids. And then there was Paris. Yes, that's right, we (me, Mike and my mom) did Paris with two kids under the age of three. And let me tell you - I'm not sure Paris was ready for us.

Just some highlights.

We had to take two pack and plays because the apartment we rented didn't have a bedding option for the kids - and they are both too little to just plunk down on a big bed and hope for the best. So, getting to the Eurostar train station in London wasn't so bad, because we had a car service pick us up (money well spent). Getting from the train station in Paris to the apartment near the Arc de Triomphe? Hysterical and a sight to be seen.

Imagine three adults with two rolling suitcases, a big double stroller stuffed with children, two pack and plays (approximately 20 pounds of awkward each), a backpack and an over the shoulder bag, realizing that there is no lift from the Eurostar level of the train station to the Metro level.

Now imagine that same group of us finding that the turnstiles to get onto the Metro are frankly too skinny for even a rolling suitcase to go through, let alone a stroller.

And now, picture the unloading of children, breaking down of the stroller, shoving of suitcases through the small opening, rebuilding of the stroller, reloading of children, re-rolling of the suitcases...only to find that we had to carry it all down about 30 steps to get on the train.

And that was just the beginning. There were tons more steps, some battling with my mother about who would carry the heavy things - during which at one point a young french woman stopped to offer her help, in French. It was very kind. And when we finally emerged from the Metro, after a transfer of course, into the sunlight, we paused, set down our myriad of thingsin exhaustion and just laughed.

But of course, the adventures continued. RC had a blowout within the first 4 hours in Paris (when we had dropped off our luggage and were buying time until the apartment was ready) and we had no extra outfit. So we were the classy Americans having lunch with a naked (diapered) baby who at one point stuck his hand in my mom's goat cheese and may or may not have smeared it on a window.

We were the family that upon entering Jardin de Acclimation had a little one (CC) have a total meltdown causing us all just to pull up some bench and wait it out, as other happy families passed us with knowing looks.

We were the family who, in that same park had yet another blowout (RC) which meant I was changing him on a blanket in the middle of this beautiful grassy area laughing while he crawled around stark naked and I wrapped up all of our now disgusting things in a bag. That time we had an extra outfit.

We were the fascinating group trooping both to and from that park with the stroller popped up into a wheelie because the front tire got a flat...twice.

We were again "that" family, when on the last day, while Mike happily watched the last stage of the Tour de France end, my mom and I took the kids to an outdoor eating area for pizza only to have CC throw a piece of baguette at the people next to us (no clue as to why) and RC to slap his hand on the top of the pizza box with Mike's to go pizza in it, causing it to drop to the ground, open and the pizza to land face down on the cement. He ate it anyway.

But I don't want to mislead you. We had a fantastic time.

The apartment we had rented was great - perfect for what we needed. It had a bedroom for me, Mike and RC. A large foyer that had a bed in it for my mom, and a side part that was perfect for CC's pack and plan. [Here, I would like to put in a plug for Gro Anywhere Blinds - a genius darkening shade with suction cups all around that made a little foyer into a bedroom for CC!]

We found a slide in view of the Arc and CC played happily in the middle of Paris. Oh, and of course, we were standing right by the Arc!

We had a lovely lunch at Martha's Cafe (regardless of the naked baby) and CC practiced saying "bonjour" and "merci"...which continued all weekend.

My mom and I got to go out on the first night and see the Eiffle Tower glitter. She had her first glass of Kir. We had a fantastic dinner. We got to experience Paris at night.

Saturday was amazing - We went place to place on the Batobus (genius for families, great way to get around, and totally affordable); experienced a rain storm while sitting on the covered patio of this little cafe right near Notre Dame and exited to blue skies and sun; actually strolled through Notre Dame with two sleeping children (couldn't have planned that any better!) and ended the day laughing and playing outside of the Louvre.

My husband and I got to go out on the second night for a glass of wine, giving us precious time to talk...in Paris!

Sunday we got to ride a little train to the children's park and - after the meltdown - we had a great time playing, listening to Rowan imitate the peacocks, eating lunch in a quiet little chinese garden and just generally being joyful. And Mike got to ditch his family (my words, not his) and experience the last stage of the Tour de France - a dream of his.

Even Sunday night, while we got ready to leave Paris and packed around two sleeping children, we even had time to just sit and laugh together as adults about the trip. And, more importantly, to schedule a car service to come get us the next morning so we didn't have to do the metro trip all over again!

The trip taught me that we're capable of anything really (as long as my mom comes!), but it also reminded me again what Mike and I have said (and say almost daily) when we decided to move to London. It isn't about the destination, it is about the journey. Thank goodness, because most often, the destination is where we end up having to pause for diaper changes, bottle warmings and meltdowns!

London Bridge?

On Saturday, Mike and I went to Burough Market. We'll include some pictures of that soon, because it was fantastic - essentially a huge farmer's market set in the city viaducts. We got there early, bought apricot balsamic, pistachio baklava, sourdough bread, one huge beautiful tomato and yogurt banana chips. We also sampled rose candy, Mike had a sausage and I had the best veggie burger of my life. Chloe played on a stone structure near a church next to the market and we managed to catch all the sun of the day in those few hours.

On the way to the market, we took a bus and Mike navigated us over the London Bridge, which was a great moment - crossing a piece of history. But then, as I was talking to my father today, he suggested that perhaps the actual London Bridge is in Arizona. And it turns out he is right. See below. What I learned is that the bridge my family crossed on Saturday was actually built from 1967 to 1972 after the original started sinking and needed replaced. Luckily, the Market was so fun, I don't know that it bothers me that much!

It is also worth noting that apparently most people think that Tower Bridge is the London Bridge and are disappointed to learn that is one bridge over.

Us on the "New" London Bridge (see Tower Bridge in the background?)

Tower Bridge

The Old London Bridge - now in Arizona

On 18 April 1968, Londong Bridge was sold to the American entrepreneur Robert P. McCulloch of McCulloch Oil for US$2,460,000. As the bridge was disassembled, each piece was numbered to aid reassembly and those markings can still be seen today. The bridge was reconstructed at Lake Havasu City, Arizona and re-dedicated on October 10, 1971. The reconstruction of Rennie’s London Bridge spans a man-made canal that leads from Lake Havasu to Thomson Bay, and forms the centerpiece of a theme park in English style, complete with mock-Tudor shopping mall. Rennie’s London Bridge has become Arizona’s second-biggest tourist attraction, after the Grand Canyon.
The version of London Bridge that was rebuilt at Lake Havasu consists of a concrete frame with stones from the Old London Bridge used as cladding. Not all of the bridge was transported to America, as some was kept behind in lieu of tax duties. The remaining stone was left at Merrivale Quarry on Dartmoor in Devon, so a large part of Rennie’s bridge never left the UK. When Merrivale Quarry was abandoned and flooded in 2003, some of the remaining stones were sold in an online auction.

The Queen

After an outing to Kensington High Street, CC and I got home in time to catch a little of the Trooping the Colour celebrating the Queen's Birthday. To quote Mike, "it was just a whole lot of marching", but it is amazing the traditions they have here. I didn't see it, but Mike also pointed out that when the Queen stepped out of her carriage to "inspect the troops" she was still clutching her purse. What is that all about?

CC really liked the marching. She did some of her own and then sat with me to watch some more. She doesn't have an accent yet, but she certainly seems to like some local customs.

About Trooping the Colour:

The custom of Trooping the Colour dates back to the time of Charles II in the 17th. Century when the Colours of a regiment were used as a rallying point in battle and were therefore trooped in front of the soldiers every day to make sure that every man could recognise those of his own regiment. In London, the Foot Guards used to do this as part of their daily Guard Mounting on Horse Guards and the ceremonial of the modern Trooping the Colour parade is along similar lines. The first traceable mention of The Sovereign's Birthday being 'kept' by the Grenadier Guards is in 1748 and again, after George III became King in 1760, it was ordered that parades should mark the King's Birthday. From the accesssion of George IV they became, with a few exceptions and notably the two World Wars, an annual event.

This impressive display of pageantry is now held on the occasion of the Queen's Official Birthday. It takes place in June each year to celebrate the official Birthday of the Sovereign and is carried out by her personal troops, the Household Division, on Horse Guards Parade, with the Queen herself attending and taking the salute.

Since 1987, The Queen has attended in a carriage rather than riding, which she did before that on 36 occasions, riding side-saddle and wearing the uniform of the regiment whose Colour was being trooped. The regiments take their turn for this honour in rotation as operational commitments permit.

Over 1400 officers and men are on parade, together with two hundred horses; over four hundred musicians from ten bands and corps of drums march and play as one. Some 113 words of command are given by the Officer in Command of the Parade. The parade route extends from Buckingham Palace along The Mall to Horse Guards Parade, Whitehall and back again.

Precisely as the clock on the Horse Guards Building strikes eleven, the Royal Procession arrives and The Queen takes the Royal Salute. The parade begins with the Inspection, The Queen driving slowly down the ranks of all eight Guards and then past the Household Cavalry. After the event, the Royal Family gathers on the balcony of Buckingham Palace to watch an RAF flypast.

Camden Markets

When we lived in Chicago, I remember thinking that there must be an easier way to live. When it snowed we had to shovel out the car. When we wanted to go to the store, we had to consider how we'd get there, how much we bought and how much we could carry home. When we wanted to go downtown, we had to think about whether the train was going to be packed.

And then we had kids and life became more complicated with strollers and car seats and rain covers and commutes. And then we eliminated a million complications by moving to Deerfield. We had a garage. We had access to every store and chain imagineable. We had plenty of space...

Yet, when the opportunity to move to London was offered, we didn't once let the complexities that were sure to greet us change our minds. Not only that, but we made a promise to ourselves that if any outing or trip seemed too hard, we'd do it anyway. Because otherwise, how would we ever see the city and all the things around it with two kids?

We have stuck to that promise so far - but frankly we do that by planning way ahead and thinking through all of those plans to ensure we're prepared, therefore making it simpler on ourselves. For example, last Saturday we went to the Science Museum. We read about it online, knew where the kids spaces were, went early to beat the crowds, took the bus line that we were already familiar with, and even took a little picnic so we wouldn't be hungry. Oh, we were so proud.

But the true test of our promise came last Sunday when our friends called to invite us on a day trip to Camden. It was already 10:30 when we determined that would be a good way to spend the day. Both kids were already down for a nap and frankly, other than the tour books we had on hand calling Camden eclectic, we knew little else. But we jumped at the chance.

The first challenge came in getting there. We met up with our friends and their four kids and immediately entered a tube station with no lift. Honestly, not many tube stations have a lift, but it is especially daunting when you have a double stroller filled with two 25 pound kids. But, between M and I, we got the big Phil and Ted's stroller down to the train level. And we crammed onto the train with a million other people. And then came the transfer down to another train line - one of the many that is set down in the bowels of the earth and again has no lift. So we tested our skills on an escalator. And then crammed onto yet another crowded train. And then had to brave the stairs and escalators going up. I felt like we were on an obstacle course because these stations are not all one level, so we'd think we were done, after riding down an escalator, only to turn a corner and have 10 stairs up to climb.

Exhausted, we spilled out into Camden Markets, along with the million people from the trains, into a crowd of a million more. There were markets and shops crammed all around us selling everything from tourists goods, to Wellies, to lingerie, to grunge outfits, to tattoos. And of course, there we are again, taking up the room of 10 people with our big old stroller and now a toddler who decided she wanted to walk and dance ot the music.

There are times that people and crowds make me batty. But this was not one of those times. In fact, I loved it. The area was great, the people were fantastic to see, the vendors were unique and the smells of a million types of food were so appealing. We stopped and got a fresh donut that they frosted to Chloe's liking and we ate it on the side of the road watching the crowds. Then we went to Stables Market, which is a huge old stable filled now with markets and food vendors and huge metal and wood tables and benches. We found ourselves a corner out of the way and ate Indian food - samosas and potatoes/spinach and rice. The kids bought lollipops and then we headed out of the crowds on to Regent's Park.

And that made it feel like a day of opposites. We started the day in crowds with loud music and traffic. And we ended in Regent's Park, which was open and green and massive and had people playing sports and children running around. We played for a long time, after spending some time changing two children who had exploded and required an outfit change (did I mention that nothing is easy these days?) and then, when we were all too exhausted to continue, got milkshakes and sat contemplating the long journey home.

And it was long. And it was hard. And there were a gazillion stairs. But the kids, all six of them, were fantastic, and happy and tickled each other and danced around. And at the end of the day, as I was falling asleep at 8:30 p.m. for the night, I was so very proud of us.

Trade Offs

Last night I got on a plane to Switzerland after being home only one full day following a trip to the states. All I could think as the car pulled away, and I caught the kiss my daughter had blown me from the front window, was "man, this is hard." And I remained on edge, unhappy and stressed enough to chew my nails into an unattractive mess until midnight when my cab pulled up to the hotel in Switzerland. At the front desk was a man named Gunter who welcomed me so nicely, showed me my room and was clearly so proud of this hotel that I had no choice but to be pleased to be here.

And then I woke up and had breakfast here.

I work in a job that asks me to put in long hours and to travel a lot. I sometimes do such ridiculous things that I can't help but think - this is my job? And then the same job puts me in a picture-perfect moment that I wouldn't have had access to in my life, and I can't help but think - this is my job? I find myself sometimes equally elated and embarrassed about moments that I am afforded. This is one of them. Would I give up this view, this experience and this luxurious treatment to be home with my family? Yes, a million times over. But if I have to be away and working, I am certainly not complaining that it is here.

Waterloo Bridge

Yesterday I had a meeting across the River Thames from my office and had to take a cab because I was running late. When I exited the building following the meeting and turned left onto Waterloo Bridge, I was smacked in the face with the fact that I live in London.

I certainly know that I live in London, but sometimes the daily grind makes me forget. I get up, get dressed, play with the family, get on the train, go to work, get on the train, go home, eat dinner, put the kids to bed and check email before retiring. We can watch American shows and eat American food. And while we try to do things beyond what we'd normally do in the U.S., and weekends are spent exploring the city right now, it is easy in moments to forget we're in London.

That is, it is easy to forget, until I turn a corner and literally to the right of me is the London Eye and to the left of me is Big Ben. London doesn't get more in your face than that.

Tiddy Oggy

I thought it might be worth noting what a Cornish Pasty is since I referred to it in the last post...a pasty (apparently also known in the cornish dialect as tiddy oggy) is a semicircular dough thing filled with all different options, including steak, vegetables or onions/cheese (my favorite). I think it is like a chicken pot pie in a Hot Pocket (minus the chicken for me). Mike says the "traditional" with steak was like having pot roast in a Hot Pocket. We stumbled upon these one morning when we were heading downtown to watch the London Marathon in St. James' Park. I was starving, as usual, and we just popped into a little store front that sold them. CC and I devoured ours. I seek them out now, but I have to assume, just like anything, there are some places that do them really well, and some that don't. So far, I've only had the good.

Clothes Shopping

Thus far, I am unimpressed with my clothes shopping experience in London.

I am a discount shopper at heart. In the states, I love Marshall's and TJ Maxx. I dig through the racks to find what should be an expensive item (more like itemS to be honest) for some ridiculously low price and I go home proud and happy. But now I'm in London and instead of coming home with ridiculous amounts of clothes, I come home sometimes with just one little thing and a huge amount of wasted time.

Being a working mom, I take very little time away from my family that I could be spending with them. And when I do, I want it to be efficient. So, since we've moved, I have planned carefully ensuring I know how to get to the areas with the most shopping options and when the napping begins in my house, I dart out the door, speed walk to the bus or tube and charge into whatever store I've determined will be my best option. This weekend it was TK Maxx (not a mispelling, but in fact, the TJ Maxx of London) that I determined would be my best bet.

I went to Kensington High Street location, which I know is a big one and started digging. And lo and behold, there was an entire suit selection - for the most outrageous prices I've ever seen in a "discount" store. For example, for one Calvin Klein suit coat, it was 150 pounds. Assume a conversion of about $1.75. That is a $262.50 jacket. Uh. Nope. Not buying that. And it continued like that throughout the store, so I ended that visit quickly.

Next I went into Marks and Spencer. And there were plenty of clothes, and some at a reasonable price, but those items were the ones that were clearly made of lesser fabrics or had some rather snazzy buttons that I wasn't interested in. I like bargains but I don't like to look like I shop for bargains.

So I went into Jigsaw and loved everything I saw. Until I saw that a camisole was 99 pounds. And the shirt next to it was 129 pounds. And I left.

I did find a store called Kew that I have since been told is the younger sister of Jigsaw and is less expensive. I probably would have bought more there, but frankly, by that time, all my shopping enthusiasm had worn off and the time I had allocated for shopping had run out.

So, I bought myself a cornish pasty (and one to take home to Mike) and a 7 pack of the most American looking cookies I could buy (chocolate chip, peanut butter, you know, the basics) and I went home.

I am sure there is good shopping in London. I am sure there is great shopping in London. I'd just like to find good shopping that I can afford...now. Is that too much to ask?

Wills and Kate

London did us a solid by throwing a royal wedding pretty quickly after we arrived. And then our little street all came together as one and threw a street party that proved to be the perfect introduction to the diversity that surrounds us - Brits to the left, a French family beside them, a New Zealand family down the block, an American family a few doors down, and it continues from there.

We thought it extremely quaint that upon arrival there was a note under our door announcing the intention of coordinating a street fair. The best part of the note was that the options for reply were as follows:

Yes, I think the street fair is a great idea and I'd like to participate and help coordinate.
Yes, I think the street fair I support the street fair but can't attend.
I won't be able to attend and have a few comments on the matter.

What I loved was that there wasn't an option not to support the event specifically. As though it wasn't really a request for permission, but more an RSVP of sorts.

Being a big-time joiner, I immediately emailed the coordinator with my intention to participate and was put on the email list of people helping with things that needed done. One of the items to volunteer for was to make "royal wedding cupcakes". Hmmm. The words I knew, but could that be something very specific that I just wouldn't know how to make? I wasn't sure, so I let the coordinator assign me something instead. And she asked that I bring "cheese, biscuits for cheese and grapes". Seems easy enough, right? Wrong. I overthought it big time. Do "biscuits for cheese" mean something besides just some random crackers? I know what cheese I'd bring in America, but in England? No clue. And grapes? Well, I actually knew what to do there.

In the end, I found a box of assorted crackers that actually said Biscuits for Cheese on the side and intended to buy a few of those. But, underestimating the number of street parties that must have been planned the number of people assigned this item, the stores were out. Mike saved the day by grabbing just a bunch of cracker packets, I just guessed on the cheese based on what the store had most of (cheddars, red liecester and double gloucester) and we thought we had it made. Until I realized I had no serving plates at all. I blamed the shipment having not arrived yet (but it has since arrived and it turns out I just didn't pack any serving dishes) and just used a few dinner plates.

By the time the party started, I was exhausted from thinking. And here's what ended up happening. We had a great time, met some fun people, ate a ton of amazing food, dressed CC up like a princess and then took off the dress and let her get so dirty she required scrubbing, and ultimately, we forgot we were in another country. Because it turns out, a street party is a street party in any country.

What Language Do I Need to Learn?

I don't think many people have a husband like mine. Imagine being him in this situation - you're sitting at home after a long day of work with your 17-month-old daughter when your six-month pregnant wife calls and says, "just hypothetically, would you be willing to move to Europe for my job?"

Some people would ask a million questions about how that would work exactly. But mine just asked one question. "What language do you need me to learn?" And, while the answer was none because the job was in London, I don't think it could have gotten much more supportive than that. That was about 9 months ago - when the conversation began.

The Us in Team Us

We are four Americans living in London on a two-year ex-pat assignment. I do communications for a pharma company and my husband took on a much tougher assignment - raising our two children while we're here. I am dealing with grown ups expressing their demands on email and i nmeetings all days - in mostly very grown up ways. He, on the other hand, is dealing with a rather intelligent, but sometimes irrational, 2-year-old girl and a chuckly little man who is about 7 months old. And we're doing it all while trying to get the cultural experience of a lifetime.