Happy Halloween!

Love, the astronaut (with a jackhammer) and the witch

A few more random ones from the WW

I can't help posting this one.

 And again.  A nice picture of the guy who got tenure (in comparison I feel like I haven't accomplished anything much at all):

 Running from her uncles (I daresay it won't be the last time):

How do you eat hummus?

Lulu's given up on the ricecake. She just spoons it right in.

Ironing

Have we covered the subject of the English and their ironing obsession? (I have paused to consider whether this is an interesting enough topic for a post, and decided to push ahead; you are, as always, free to stop reading.)

They are c-r-a-z-y.

One of my friends regularly shakes her head in disgust as she watches American television programs during which people are shown folding baskets full of (clean) un-ironed laundry. This woman explained that she irons all of her children's clothes, down to their pajamas and underwear. Also, just ironing sheets is insufficient; those she takes to a cleaner with a press. At this point in the conversation I vowed to never even iron my sheets (occasionally I will do the pillowcases since those are visible) so that I don't come to appreciate it and, eventually, require it.

Our new housecleaner works for another family with a house identical to ours for ten hours per week. You know why she can spend that much time? Because she's doing all the ironing.

Yesterday we had a playdate with one of Tommy's nursery school teachers (she's Polish) who said that they have a housekeeper because her Welsh husband insists on even his t-shirts being ironed and is not willing to give the teacher's just-give-it-a-good-shake approach a chance.

Now you (my American readers) can all appreciate all the free time you didn't even realize you had.

The Lex

Last night I checked email right before going to bed, and I had an email from Andy with this attached to it:

Why are these notes the cutest things in the whole universe? Because she is not yet 7? Because she is my niece and I have SUCH sweet memories of when she was a tiny baby, and then when she came to our wedding and everybody wanted to hold her? I don't know. BUT, she is an amazing little girl and these notes are somehow overwhelming to her Aunt Laura. (She accuses Andy of not loving her and still signs her own note "Love, Lexy." Does that not kill all of you, too?)

You'll be happy to know that after delivering notes back and forth, she and her daddy resolved the problem (kudos to Andy for, as he described it, responding to her reactions with love, just like MLK), and she went on to eat a ginormous dinner, leading me to believe that hunger was the root of this one (I understand, Lexy, I really do).

The weekend of Walters (with a couple of photos)

It's Sunday night and nearly nine pm (aka the time I turn into a pumpkin). Brett and Chinka left for the airport at 5:30 and barely caught their flight. Andy and Katherine and Eli are half watching a movie (or sleeping, if you're Eli) and I am tired but really happy that we had such a nice weekend. I have lots of photos to post, but that will have to happen later this week as I'm too tired to get off the couch and download them. Instead, I shall tell you a bit about what we did.

On Friday, Eli took the day off and I spent the day thinking it was Saturday and then I felt happy every time I remembered it was Friday. I took Tommy to the hospital to get his real cast and it was great. The cast is red and so he is happy. (This morning he insisted on wearing a red shirt to match the cast.)

We went out for Indian food twice (lunch and dinner) and also went on a walk by UCL where all three Walter boys studied abroad. I took a few cute pictures but they are stuck on my phone. One day. Then, we took the kids home and put them to bed. When the babysitter arrived, we went out to celebrate Brett and Andy's birthday. They are 39, so I told them they are o.l.d. (Which they are.)

On Saturday we took our time getting out of the house, so that by the time everybody left it was time for Lulu's nap. So everybody except Lulu and me went to High Street Ken and Hyde Park and Whole Foods and then, after we joined them, the girls went shopping at Massimo Dutti and Cos and other shops that America does not have. We went home and put the kids to bed and then had a little dinner party so that Andy could have a friend of his from graduate school over.

And today was the football game. I have to say that while it was great to go (finally!), it was a bit disappointing in that Fulham pretty much sucked (and lost, of course) and you cannot drink beer in the stadium which was part of my master plan for surviving the game. Instead, I chatted the whole time. When I was waiting in line for beer at half time (you have to drink a whole beer in 15 minutes which most Brits have no trouble with but which makes me feel pretty gross), a nice British gent started laughing at me because I was talking to Brett and indicating that I knew nothing about football. I told the guy I thought that it was a pretty unlucky first football game and couldn't he do anything about the freaking team?

Anyway, this is a brief summary and I will post more with photos but this was one of those weekends that force me to consider whether we are sacrificing too much (i.e. regular contact with their uncles and aunties) to live in London.

I have more pictures, but clearly the uncle photos are highest priority. The kids have been asleep before 6:30 since their uncles left.

Television

So I just read again that children under age 2 shouldn't watch television. And so I offer this story to you. As many of you already know, we watch television only on the weekend in our house, and usually just 30 minutes or an hour in the morning, after breakfast (so usually the TV is off by, say, 7:30 am which leaves the whole day for creative play (or chores)). On Sunday, though, we watched a lot more television, because Tommy was grumpy from (1) having a broken arm and (2) not having had enough rest. So I told him that after he had a nap, he could watch more television. He woke up right about the same time as Lulu, and we went down to the living room to begin viewing. His selection was, in retrospect, inappropriate for Lulu (and probably also for him).

Eli has been recording a BBC series about dinosaurs for Tommy, and while Tommy loves them, they are violent and scary. On Sunday, Tommy opted to watch the one about the Allosaurus (Tommy's third favorite dinosaur).

So the story is that during the climax of the 30-minute program, when the Allosaurus is fighting with and ultimately eating another dinosaur, I heard Lulu say, "no! NO!" and I looked over at her and she was staring intently at the television, her eyes open wide, and clearly scared.

Parent of the year, right here.

(This morning on our walk to school, Tommy was describing a television show about a goat and the moon and ended with a request that I purchase the DVD. I said no, and then I said, "wait, is this a pretend television show, or a real one?" and he said, "pretend, of course!" and so of course I said we could buy the pretend DVD.)

Breaking news...

Our day started normally (because who doesn't wear cat masks backwards to complete their batman ensemble?):

 Then, after Lulu's nap, we went for a walk:

 And to the green, for a play:

But it ended badly.  Badly, friends.  Tommy was running, fast, and not paying attention to where he was going, and an adult was running backwards so that she could photograph her husband and their grandson (I think) and they collided.  Tommy literally flew through the air.

But we thought he was fine, and that he was crying because he was tired and because he tends toward the dramatic.  (I even said, "Love, I see a future for your on the stage.  Now let's talk about something else.")  But after about five minutes, we looked at the arm and noticed a strange, red lump.  And the arm surrounding the lump was swollen.

So we walked over to the clinic which was closed, and decided to go home to collect some things and then head to the ER (or emergency department, as one says here).   Eli set off to find a taxi, and came home about 20 minutes later to tell me that he was just going to push Tommy in the stroller as there was a Chelsea match and traffic was stopped.  So that's what he did.  (During his search for the taxi was the worst part of the experience for me.  Tommy was in a lot of pain and said lots of sad things to me, one of which was "why aren't you helping me, mommy?")

Here are hospital photos:

 See the lump?  And also how Tommy is too big for the buggy now?

 X-ray.  S-a-d.  A little guy in a huge room, all alone.

 Home!  With the result:  a cast and a sling, with another x-ray scheduled for Friday at which point he may get to take it all off.  There's no clear break, it's not dislocated and it didn't affect the joint.  But, they need to check it all again.  We're thrilled that it may be off soon, as he is already really whining about it and the inconvenience of it is clear.

 And here he is losing his business because he's tired and it's late (they didn't get home until eight and were all jazzed about looking at the stars because Tommy isn't usually out when it's dark as he goes to bed when most people are just getting home from work):

Hello

Happy Wednesday, everybody. This week has been clipping along, which is nice because we are all getting very excited for Eli's brothers and their SOs to arrive next week! It's a quick trip but I know it will be fun, if for no other reason than we are going to a Fulham match and I have not been before. I think our tickets are obstructed view but any friend that has ever experienced a sporting event like this with me knows that will not matter to me in the slightest. (I will never forget going to a Giants game with my friend who was trying to keep score and after a couple of innings gave up because she couldn't possibly deal with my chatter AND keep score and she couldn't really kick me out of the game. Some people go to games to watch them? Don't ask me, no idea.)

Anyway. This morning I happened to meet Tommy's new BFF, Sophia. And her mom and her little sister and little brother. A sweet family, that one. Sophia's mom told me that Sophia had a very hard time at school until she became friends with Tommy, and that now she has an easier time. Also, yesterday I tried to prepare Miss Jo for the fit I expected from Tommy when he realized that he'd been assigned to the YELLOW house instead of the RED one (yes, this school has four houses, just like Harry Potter, and the kids earn points for their houses and do fun activities, no idea). And Miss Jo quickly checked the list, discovered that Sophia was also in the yellow house, and suggested that I stop worrying about it.

Also, Sophia is one of the most beautiful little girls I've ever seen.

We're going to arrange a playdate.

Lulu has learned to sing and while she refuses to do it on demand, if you ignore her, you often end up hearing a very lovely (if slightly garbled) version of "Twinkle, Twinkle." Now, how to catch it on video?

And another random one: I want the new iPhone. Especially now that mine has a big scratch down the front of it.

Pictures this weekend if I can find some worth posting. I promise the kids are still very, very cute.

To all my friends with girls

Do you have any great ideas for gifts for Lizzie?

If she were aware of the gift injustice occurring at our house, she might feel like we don't love her as much as we love Tommy. But really, she just loves his toys and we can't think of new, exciting things to get for her. But we've got a birthday and Christmas coming up (within two weeks of each other, the poor thing) and I need some suggestions. So leave a comment! Or send an email!

(We would love not to buy all pink plastic toys, but if any of those have been crazy successful with your girls, tell me about them too.)

Steve Jobs

Is anybody else shocked at how sad they are about Steve Jobs? I keep wondering if it's about the pancreatic cancer (just the mention of which always takes me somewhere dark), or is it about how much I love all my apple stuff (that's right, we've got a lot) or is it that he did so much in a short time? I'm guessing it's a combination of all three (that's right, I love my apple stuff -- did you read how he said that it's not the consumer's job to know what he or she wants? I am that consumer). Anyway, s-a-d.

But, on to another depressing topic.

Dear British men who run during lunch,

Could we have a quick word about your black dress socks? I don't understand why you're wearing them while you run. They look silly. And I know you have another pair of socks back at the office (because surely, surely you are not going to put those nasty sweaty socks back on and put them into your work shoes and then go stink up the office), so why not grab a white pair, preferably some made specifically for athletic pursuits? Really. I finally understand the polo shirts: here it's what you wear for sports, where I come from its dress up clothes, so okay. You win. (Though sweating while wearing a shirt with a collar is disgusting to me.) But please, can we not wear black dress socks for running? Please?

Love,
Laura

A funny one

He just sounds like a little man in some parts of this.  While I was videoing it with my phone (Allan, the flip one was charging, and I totally regret it of course because this video is not as good as it should be, also Allan almost Happy Birthday to you!), I was shaking I was laughing so hard.

Obviously, he likes the Cars 2 soundtrack.

Weekend!

We had a nice weekend -- it's been really hot here so we went to Somerset House again.  The kids wore the same bathing suits so the pictures look like they're from the trip a couple of months ago.  Oh well.  On Saturday afternoon we went to Miss Alina's birthday party!  She's 28 (!) and we had delicious Romanian food again!  The kids loved the ice cream and cupcake parts of course.  We took the camera and then didn't take even one picture.

Lizzie has a cold that she's had for at least a week, and on Friday she started the cough part.  I took her to the local walk in clinic this morning after a very fitful sleep last night, and she is okay.  But, if she's not better on Friday, she's supposed to go back.  I'm not sure why we're sick over here, all the time, but that's just how we're going along these days.  Mandy is also sick today, which is why I'm home and posting instead of working...Maybe it's just the unseasonably warm weather, bringing us all down.  

 (This is Tommy watching something hi-larious on youtube.)

 Lizzie and I went to a music class a week ago Friday and we had a really great time, especially with this drum.  I think we might try to find one like this for Lizzie for her birthday or Christmas. (She just saw this picture and said, "Lulu. Drum."  We'd been curious what she would call herself when she started talking, and it's clear:  Lulu.)

I wrote this one on Thursday...

I realized that I left many words off of Lulu's word list.  She is especially good at "thank you" which sounds more like "dih-doo", and reminds me that I failed to clarify that many of these words can only be understood by those of us who spend lots of time with her.  She has a new favorite book, about a little boy named Albie, and on one of the pages, Albie's mom shouts his name.  So when we turn to that page, Lizzie immediately starts calling, "AAAALLLL-BIEEEEE" and continues until the page is turned.

 

As my mom noticed when we were in Seattle, Lizzie intently studies Tommy and makes it her business to imitate whatever he is doing.  This results in some incredibly cute moments, and some very frustrating ones for Tommy (he is especially tired of her drawing on his drawings).  Lizzie also loves my handbags and since they are kept in Tommy's room, she often opens the cupboard and pulls out as many as she can and unzips and unsnaps them and carries them around.  She is getting very good with a spoon and prefers to eat from a utensil rather than with her hands (though she is not averse to loading up her spoon with her hand if the food is tricky to get onto the spoon).  She says "uh-oh" whenever food gets on her tray or on her clothes or on the floor, but still occasionally flings it to the ground when she's in the mood.  One of the cutest moments last weekend occurred when we gave Tommy some ice cream before we gave Lizzie some -- she was in her seat and started screaming and shouting and trying to get out of the seat to see what Tommy had until we gave her some about 30 seconds after Tommy received his.  I don't remember Tommy having such a sense of entitlement, but maybe he did and I've just forgotten?  At any rate, in our family, not-yet-two-year-olds demand equal status and the strategy seems to work fairly well as she mostly does get everything that we get (but not wine, beer or soda all of which she requests whenever she sees them).

 

She still wakes up and calls "Mommy? Mommy!  Moo-mmyyyyy!!" until one of us gets her.  It's cute and only once have we left her for so long that she decided to try for Daddy, even though he is the one who usually gets her (remember, I didn't sleep through the night for more than a year, so it's fair).

 

The big news in Tommy-land is that he started the reading curriculum last week.  It begins with books without words (so that the child tells the story from the pictures) and he apparently told his teacher that these books are boring because they don't have words.  The books are boring, but the problems are larger than no words.  But whatever, it's what they do.  Sometimes I take pleasure in knowing that I am memorializing Tommy's fits on the blog so that one day, he can feel silly about them, and that's what I intend to do here.  Yesterday morning, we wanted to take a photo of Tommy with his first book, and so repugnant was that idea to him that he threw a big fit.  So here are the pictures:

(Does it seem like he's having a lot of fits lately to you, too? I am attributing it to the adjustment of school, and the exhaustion that comes with it, and trying to be loving and understanding.  But honestly, I'm over the fits and hope that he soon will be, too.)

 

Now that we've covered the kids (as if! I could tell a million more stories about them because they are so funny and crazy!), I'll tell you all that I had a better week at work because I had more work to do.  Lovely.  I also ran a couple of the days -- once to the east and once to the west, and then back along the other side of the river. I find dodging the tourists sort of tricky and worry that I might end up with a sprained ankle, but it's worth it of course.  I'm so lucky to work here.  And I decided that I'm going to learn the city (that's this middle part that I work in, not the whole thing which feels to me about as big as Washington state) better than Eli so that when he wants to come down here, I can say things like, "oh, I really like the sandwiches at this place, let's have lunch here!" or "if we just go down this impossibly narrow street that doesn't even look like a street, we'll end up exactly where we want to be!" and "oh, I forgot my phone [which is also our map] at home but that's okay, we totally don't need it!"

 

Here's one embarrassing thing:  Thursday morning I wore my running shoes with a dress because it's been GORGEOUS here so I wanted to wear a dress, and I also wanted to run later in the day (and I keep four pairs of shoes at the office because they're too high to do my walk to the tube in). 

 

This, wearing running shoes with a dress on my commute, is something I thought I'd never do.  

 

So at drop-off, a mom (who is my friend) said to me, "are you running in, Laura?" and laughed.  Which was perfectly appropriate because I did look like a huge freaking dork.  Sigh.  I need a stylist.  I'm sure Mandy is tired of walking in the door and answering questions about my outfit and whether the belt is too wild?

 

So Eli's been giving the old New Yorkers to a guy at his work who suddenly has started acting like a little b*tch (sorry, but there's no other way to describe him) so I told Eli that as soon as those people at the New Yorker resume my subscription (please pray for me, I am feeling desperate and cannot email them too many more times and do not have an iPad on which to download and read them on the Tube), the guy is CUT OFF.  Seriously, this guy is doing crazy stuff like storming out of meetings (!) and it is stressing my poor husband out and for that I say, NO NEW YORKERS.

  

This post is not even interesting.  I'll sign off and you can go on to something interesting (may I suggest this article http://www.spokesman.com/stories/2011/sep/18/gutsy-wrangler-huge-horse-save-boy-from-charging/ that made me actually cry?).