Little Snippets of Winter in London

While our other home (funny how we have acquired several "homes" at this point in our lives!), Boston, is covered in mountains of snow, we are enjoying a light winter here in London.  I could totally get used to this weather, actually.  Outside most days, never cold enough to steal your breath, ice skating in the city, tiniest amount of snow for the kids to love twenty minutes of snow play.

My Boring Philosophy

"Boring" is kind of a buzzy sort of word right now.  Recently I've read several different places about the new study of being bored and how it's a lost skill.  People no longer know how to not do anything.  How to just wait and watch and let things pass by.  People check their phones up to 100 times a day, not just to not be bored but to distract themselves from other things that do need doing.

I'm totally guilty of checking my phone more often than strictly necessary.  I think I'm more at the 20 times a day end of things, though.  (Maybe I should do a tally on that to see where I really stand.)  I take personal pride in not being tied to the phone.  Except for Instagram, of course.  And Citimapper when out and about.  I would not survive without those. 

Being ahead of the trend as I am (ha!) I have long been a believer in making lots of time and space to have nothing to do.  And in that space having lots to be and do.

I make it a point that in my house my kids have lots of time and space to be bored and learn to deal with just themselves.  We sit and wait at tube stations and bus stops and watch the world pass by.  Their eyes are bright and alive with the bustle of it all.  I know that if I were to pull out the phone even one time while we waited they would rely on that and ask every time, quickly forgetting to allow themselves to be "bored."  So the phone stays away (except when I'm checking my map app or clicking a sneaky picture) and we are all much happier.  More "bored" but far less bored.

I know my children are still young, and aren't around other kids' influence as much as they could be, so I haven't often heard the phrase, "I'm bored" from them.  When I do, though, I'm like, "Good!  Go be bored.  Then figure a way to entertain yourself.  Or help me with what I'm doing."  I don't feel any obligation to entertain my children.  I truly don't.  (Not since Eddy came along and I provided a playmate for life, anyway!)  Educate them, yes, I feel like I have an obligation for that.  And a passion for learning.  But I'm not the entertainer.

When we're bored maybe we should let ourselves be bored.  Let our unused imagination wander.  Let our minds be turned toward someone who needs help.  Remember.  Dream.  Close our eyes and marvel at the light flares on the back of our eyelids like we did when we were kids.  (Or maybe I'm the only one who does that?!)  Stroke the pages of the book in our laps and feel the paper edges flip softly by.  Look at a blank wall and let all the possibilities to fill it fill our mind's eye (then do it or not--Collin loves a blank wall where he can get it!).  Breathe yoga breaths in and out and feel our body in a way we usually are too busy to.  Watch other people without making judgements but just to see.  Being bored can be ever so productive.

They've got plenty to do or not do.  I'm not picky which they choose at any given moment, actually--as long as it's not harm.  I think that sometimes being able to do nothing is quite marvelous.  I'm sure there will come a summer in my near future when I could scream after hearing the word "bored" one more time.  Or maybe not.  I think I'll feel like a really successful mom when my kids can sigh that they are so bored.  Then lie on the grass looking at the sky for hours and imagine a better world.  And if we're very lucky, and because of the people they are, my kids will get up and make the world better.

So They Went Off Together

So they went off together.  But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest a little boy and his Bear will always be playing.

--A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner 

 

Here we are at the end of the walk down Pooh Bear lane.  This truly was an incredible project for me and Eddy to create together.  I'm not saying the results were beyond incredible (though a shot here and there were pretty beautiful, though I say it myself) but the project all together was such fun to work on.  

It's harder than I thought to say goodbye to this project in this space.  I have been rather selfish, I'm afraid, to inundate our family journal space with these.  Thanks for enjoying them along with me!

Oh, and an anecdote from a week or two ago.  Eddy asked for his "bear book" from the shelf and I brought it down to him (it's up high away from Eliza's hands).  He settled down on the couch to read it.  After a few minutes he looked up at me and asked, "Mom, will you keep this book forever?  Will you never give it away?"  I was a little confused, but responded, "No, I won't give it away.  It's your book forever, even when you have your own kids you can show it to them."  Eddy got a big smile on his face and said, "You'll never throw it away with the toys we don't clean up?  Yay!"  I'll take it as a sign he likes his book.

 And just because it's so cute, I'll include this extra scene of Eliza getting in on the teddy bear love.

Happy 30th to Me!

Thirty is actually pretty cool so far.  I've given it a whole day to process and I think I'm okay.

I just love birthdays, no matter who or what age.  I think birthdays are absolutely something to celebrate.  I mean, you were BORN!  What a grand gift.  How magnificent is life?!

Plus it's a time to eat cake and ice cream (or whatever sweets are your personal favorites).  I truly love a good chocolate cake and really good ice cream.  I used to need them totally separate, not touching.  I couldn't pass a plate of cooked meat back then either, so you know.  I've grown up since then a little.

Davy helped me make my cake so it was extra good.  I put a ganache drizzle on top since I don't have a mixer for real frosting.  I splurged to try clotted cream ice cream made in Cornwall.  It was good, but honestly I am partial to Ben and Jerry's.

Collin came home from a week working in Greece and decided to "work from home" on Saturday--during busy season!--so we could all just be together doing nothing really all day.  It was perfect.  He brought me flowers too.  We were coming back from taking care of the dog we were pet-sitting and he had come home first from Greece.  He left a single rose on the doormat, then a trail of them through the hall.  I was in the back of the Lambourne train, pushing the pram so I was the last to reach Collin as the kids ran ahead, wild with excitement.  A romantic gesture isn't quite the same with kids in the middle.  Just as sweet, though.

My one birthday wish each year for the past few years has been a picture of me with my kids.  I have no expectation of it being the greatest picture ever taken.  I love being in the frame with my little sweeties, though, whatever zaniness it takes to get them.

Just for fun, here is last year, and the year before that when I decided it was a good birthday wish to make come true.  I wish I had thought of it six years ago!  Better now than never.

Of course--tragically--I didn't think to have Collin come in the frame for a real picture me and him.  He's never been around in the previous years for me to think about!  This time apparently he was in my mind only as the one behind the camera when we had good light.  So a phone selfie at night was the only record in the day.  Next time we have the chance, we're due for some "just us" pictures!

 

More Loving

Sometimes I just need a little excuse to practice some photography.  I mean, I want to do it anyway, but to get some cooperative subjects a girl's got to offer some incentive.  So chocolate it is! 

My mother and sisters in law have seriously got my taste down pat.  They gift Eliza the most perfectly beautiful, unique, colorful outfits.  Lucky girl.

These boys of ours are heart-breakers in the making.  They are handsome little fellows--particularly when they let me do anything with their hair!

 

Crying and RIP Vacuum

When I was a kid and teenager I was always crying about something, it seems, but I outgrew that for the most part.  Except for my impatience/temper, I'd say I'm a pretty even-keel sort of adult.  I mean, I don't just start choking up over little things that much.  I certainly get a little weepy at the end of certain Disney movies, and I can hardly get through a declaration of love for and from God and Jesus without being a tad teary eyed.  As a thrice times pregnant lady I can count on one (ok, maybe two) hands the times I starting bawling, just to cry.  And you can chalk most of that up to hormones.  On a day to day basis, though, I think I'm relatively steady.

Until recently.  The past few weeks have been a doozy for crying.  I don't know what it is!  I know some of the factors--readjusting expectations of myself and our current life situation, some stress of stuff I guess, battling the comparison monster, other random stress stuff, small disappointments that are normal life realities.  The crying, though.  My eyes are tired out from it all. 

(I'm not pregnant.)

(Which is actually a little bit part of it.  It's expensive to think about having a baby here!)

No, all the things I and we as a family are dealing with are in the range of to-be-expected and perfectly normal.  Still blessed beyond measure and aware of it.

Today was a series of those insignificant annoyances and disappointments that added up to be something to sob about--maybe.  Everything was just off.  You know those kinds of days.  Everyone out of sorts as soon as the day was started.  Determined to continue on with the plan we got out.  The bus I intended to take was delayed 45 minutes or canceled.  Found another route.  Eliza screamed the whole hour long bus ride.  Got to the playdate but late.  Felt out of place.  Felt worse about myself and my life after being with friends.  Felt guilty about that.  Knew I wouldn't get a nap because Eliza fell asleep on the way home (at least not screaming!).  Read an email about the research I'm trying to do for my capstone class and realized that again I'm doing things the hard way instead of finding a nice path.  Want to give up for the 1000th time.  I started feeling tears stream down my face on the bus today--total public show.  Pulled myself together again and went on with the day.  Sort of.  Read a book on my bed most of the afternoon, letting the kids play on their own.  Finally snapped out of it.  Got dinner going.  Microwave broken, going through the motions but no nuking happening.  Lost all heat somehow.  Have to pay to get that replaced.  Cleaned up the toys with kids mostly helping.  Looked around and realized a vacuum cleaning was in order.  Pulled it out and got to work.  Before the job was barely begun the machine died. 

It was never my favorite vacuum.  Came with the furnished flat and was on its way out anyway.  Didn't do a half-way decent job.  Had to be on my hands and knees the whole time anyway, with no attachment.  Yeah, I hated that thing.  But it died at the end of a long day with the house still a mess.  I started sobbing and sobbing with no end in sight. 

It must be so scary to come across your mom crying.  The kids reacted in their own, special ways.  Davy came up to me and asked sweetly but nervously, "Mom, are you ok?  What's the matter?  We can just buy a new vacuum, right?"  Edward tried to fix the problem by plugging and unplugging the vacuum.  Eliza came over to give me the kind of comforting hug she gives her brothers when they are actually hurting (she can tell if they try to con her into it), stroking my arm and saying, "Mama, oh, mama."

I don't know that much about depression.  Like, the real depression.  I am 99% sure I'm not there at this point.  Just in a big old rut that is ugly and sticky now.  It's all part of growing and stretching.  Well and good.  Don't like it much now.  I'm taking the chance on being honest and in-the-moment here, because I want this to be a safe place for some of this type of emotion and struggle.  Having a bad day--or a couple weeks in a row--is one flip side of life.  I like showing off our super happy side, too.  Mostly the happy side.  I guess I just hope that in a happy day down the road, I'll come back to this entry and be able to say, "Oh, yeah, I remember all that.  And look where it brought me and my family."  To a good place, I have faith.

Season of Love

Valentine's Day is around the corner.  I'm working toward making the day/season a family one.  We took part of a morning last week to talk specifically about some of our favorite things about each other.  I caught some of it on tape--the cute kids part, anyway!


It was originally going to be a surprise for daddy, but then I was too eager to work on it (and I can't keep secrets or surprises to save my life) and so we enjoyed watching our children's adorableness over and over again one evening after they were asleep.  That's true love right there.

Playing Pooh Sticks and Balloons

It was tricky to find a place with the right kind of bridge and the right kind of water underneath.  I could think of several places in the Boston area that would work wonderfully, but I didn't have the means or the time to extensively location search in a new big city.  We lucked out when we were exploring the town of Lambourn on one of our first trips out of the city.  We drove past the little stream (with the great name of River Lambourn) and I admired its scenery.  The children were screaming in the back seat, it was starting to rain, and it was not the right time to pull out the camera and do a posed shoot.  I waved Collin's offers and nudges away and we drove off on to our next destination.  The next few days I couldn't get the place out of my mind and bemoaned that I would never find a place as good again.  On our way back from Bath and Stonehenge I looked at the map and realized we were a half hour away from Lambourn and "the spot."  Collin noticed my yearning looks and took the next exit off the freeway, heading back to River Lambourn.  (Can I repeat what a sweet man he is?!)  The day was sunny this time, so the lighting was trickier for me, but I was so grateful we got the perfect place for our bridge picture.

Right next to the River Lambourn was a little woods.  Eddy and I took a stroll through, while Davy and Eliza had a snack in the car.  We found a place that was close enough to the rabbit hole for our next two scenes.

Love these big balloons!  I searched high and low for a balloon place in our area of London that carried them.  No luck until I remembered that Amazon is the answer to many of my prayers (sorry, only partially facetious comment!). 

What goes up must come down--especially silly bears!

And some extras, just because the big balloons were so much fun.