Blowing a Balloon With Davy

I got a little serious yesterday.  Then I worked on finishing up a video that I think will make you smile.  I love those projects that happen spontaneously, easily, joyfully.  Davy's instructions on how to blow up a balloon was just that kind.  Quintessentially Davy.

Thoughts Turning Home

The kids were a little alarmed when I broke down and cried over my omelet tonight.  I felt so fragile and vulnerable, when all of a sudden I felt so home-and-heart sick for my mommy and daddy, and for Collin's mom and dad, for my children's grandparents who are missing out on their grandchildren because we've stolen them far far away.

After the normal tense rush of getting dinner on the table (I suffer from acute "hangry" and Collin tiptoes around me like I'm a wild animal in the minutes before eating.  His words.) everyone mellowed and became as cheerful as can be.  Food was mostly gone, satisfying our hunger.  We were sitting mostly back in our chairs, elbows draping across the backs.  The mess of the dinner table lingered but did not yet beg for immediate attention.  The golden hour of the day bathed everything in perfect light.  Eliza was making us all laugh with her wit and vivacity, just beaming at the attention and growing in confidence at every giggle.

I felt a pang of premature loss for the day when we don't have a two year old at our dinner table.

Then I was hurdled back onto memory lane in my own childhood, where, as the oldest of seven, it seemed we always had a two year old providing "free entertainment" at the dinner table.  It felt just like it did tonight, when time slows and all the edges glitter just a little in that perfectly cinematic way.  I wasn't there for the time my family didn't have a very young child making us all laugh with their best performances, as I was already moving on into college and marriage.  I'm only now realizing my parents must have noticed the difference.  And while happy in the next stage, they maybe mourned, as I already do, the lack of a two year old on center stage in their high chair.

I was overcome by sadness that I'm depriving grandparents of their reward of the work of raising kids.  Pictures, videos, facetime with grandchildren--they help, sure.  However, seeing these children live in action can't be beat.  There are funnies I can't remember word for word to relate later even while tears of laughter are streaming down my cheeks.  Their adorable body language doesn't come across a screen nearly as well as face to face.

I'm just so sorry that our grand adventures--which we're truly loving at last!--are at the expense of extended family.

I was actually intending, before crying a couple hours ago, to start compiling a list of all the things we have learned to love about London and living far away from the familiar.  I'll do that another night when I'm up for it again.  Tonight I feel, in this family journal, that I ought to let this homesick moment stand.  I can't make a promise that we're moving right back west.  I can let you in on the secret that we lean that direction more as we realize how fleeting the days and years of childhood are.  And how much we yearn for the memories of our children to center around the love, service, and laughter with their family beyond just us.

Hampton Court by Boat

I was talking with a friend a few weeks ago about fun things to do in London and she mentioned her hope to take a river ferry up the Thames to Hampton Court, just the way King Henry VIII used to get to his holiday home.  I could think of few things more romantic, so quickly that plan bumped its way up to the top of my family London list.

The river boat ride time varies with the tide, since toward Hampton Court one is going against the flow and the tidal pull of the river.  We "lucked out" and chose our day on one of the longer possible river runs, taking almost four hours.  The boat leaves at 11:30 am, which is later than ideal to enjoy time at the palace itself.  The reason for this is that one of the bridges the boat crosses under is too low for vessels to pass unless the tide is gone out a certain amount.  We did get just over an hour at the palace before time to head home (taking the train back!) and it was enough to know we will be returning to explore more.  (On a train both ways this time . . .)

Coming by boat really was wonderful, even if it was as long as some airplane journeys we've been more prepared for!  Seeing Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament from the river was spectacular, then leaving the bustle of London proper behind while speeding down the river exciting.  The method of travel is lovely, so serene and everyone on the riverways friendly and waving.  The first view of Hampton Court from the river was pretty memorable, too.

This year Hampton Court is celebrating 500 years and things are festive.  The day we went there was jousting and colorful tents and costumed actors.

Davy and Eddy, being children, squeezed to the front of the crowd to see the joust.  Eliza got the next best seat to see the horses.

Davy especially was raring to visit the hedge maze, ever since I mentioned it in hopes of getting the kids excited about the day.  He could not wait to run through and figure out the way.  At the center is a wire frame for all your photoboothing needs.  ;)  The boys were ready to do it again right away.  Next time!

Then we wandered in the courtyards for a little while, stopping at the magnificent wishing fountain.  Then in the palace for a while, through an exhibit about Henry VIII as a young man, before the wives and beheadings.

Eliza found a gummy bear on a stone of the the courtyard and carried around in her overall pocket so tenderly for a long while.  Then she could wait no longer and ate the poor thing before I could stop her.  I love how crazy kids are.

While we were waiting on the pier for the boat to depart we happened upon a great street musician at the end of a number.  He was wooed by Eliza's dance moves and sang "Rolling on a River" just for her, while she danced the whole song.  It was simply perfect, so apropos, I had to include some in the little video diary of the day.

London Happenings (Tower Bridge, Donuts, Wellington Arch, and Beating Retreat)

It's been a while since I did an update on things Londony.  We've been busy most weekends seeing this lovely town of ours. 

One morning we took a lift up to the second level walkway across the Tower Bridge.  The glass floor made several people nervous.  Collin overcame any vertigo to goof around, like the wonderful daddy he is.  Made us all laugh.

What a remarkable structure this bridge is.  The boys were fascinated by all the mechanisms that make this bridge work.  There are water fountains in a plaza with a lovely view of the bridge that the kids enjoyed running through--have to go back for more water play.  And we still have to make it for one of the scheduled bridge openings, but that will be for another day.  Not done with you yet, Tower Bridge.

Another Saturday we went in search of the city's best donuts.  I had a false lead they were in a stand in Borough Market.  After we realized the booth wasn't there (but got a loaf of scrumptious French country bread for the road) we meandered all under tunnels and bridges and through alleys and thought we were completely out of luck until we saw a promising clue.  A family eating filled donuts on a street corner pointed us in the right direction.  In a row of storage units there they were!  St John's Bakery donuts.  Delicious.  Then a park just down the street and playing around with my shutter speed settings.

And a flower bed of pink poppies in the middle of brick and cement.

Wellington Arch commemorates the commander's role in the Battle of Waterloo against Napoleon.  It stands across the street from the Duke of Wellington's home, Apsley House.  There are no photos allowed in the house, but it was memorable because the children have been begging to go back.  The audio/handheld device tour for children was a winner.  They loved it.  Also, the oldest piano with pedals is in the home, belonging to the Duke.  He wanted to be a musician before his mother sent him to military school, changing the whole course of European--and world--history.

One evening, Davy and I got to go with some friends to a very British spectacle.  The Horseguards Beating Retreat is an old custom.  The stands were full as we watched the royal guards march in formation and play instruments.  Then there was a Battle of Waterloo reenactment with cannons and fireworks.  It was pretty incredible.  Davy was so brave with all the loud noises--covered his ears and grinned away. 

Collin's Birthday and An Expat Independence Day

My greatest birthday present to Collin was that he didn't have to be in loads of pictures.  ;)

A lazy Saturday birthday is a beautiful thing.  We began by sleeping in (here in London they say, "having a lie in") then cuddling a bit with all the family . . . in a double bed . . . before getting up and getting ready for a fun day.  The kids had a Stake Primary activity at the Hyde Park building, then we had a picnic at the park with ice lollies (Mr Freeze).  After a long walk through the park we went on a tour of Apsley House, where the Duke of Wellington lived, and his commemoration arch--more on that in another, London-focused post.  Then home for summer food including real beef hamburgers and BBQ pulled pork (one day a year I can do meat for my man) and A&W root beer floats in the garden.  I honestly think it was a perfect day, and Collin deserves it.  My guy is an absolute keeper.  I have no plans ever to let him go.

Being outside of my country for its birthday is an interesting thing.  I woke up to social media bursts of friends back home celebrating with all the usual, but taken for granted ways and I got a pit of homesickness in my belly.  I'm grateful for friends who know how to make the day a big deal, American style.  BBQ, pot luck, flags, soda, Popsicles, music blaring, sparklers, water fight, watermelon (but old fashioned seeded and delicious), firework fountains, kid parade, long summer night, the works. 

One lady at the party is proudly Scottish through and through, but has an American passport (born, I think) and made the statement that she is as American as any of us.  That made me think.  I do not in any way refute her claim, I just wondered what makes an American.  Certainly some of the stereotypes, embarrassing and true.  Qualities such as stubbornness, creative, entrepreneurial, direct, outspoken may also factor into the image, for better and less than better sometimes.  I hope my children continue proud in their American heritage, to be advocates for liberty and executors of justice and mercy.  I love my country, its history and legacy.  I am as American as can be, in my way--which is, in fact, my freedom and my right!

Eliza in a circa early 1990s swim suit (recognize this Camilla and Katy?), watermelon slab and bunting.  I feel like this image imbues a certain timeless quality.

Sparklers (dangerous little things, those) and watching fire fountains in awe from the curb while eating popcorn.  Oh, the perfectness which is the 4th.

Kids' parade with decorated scooters and other rolling vehicles.  American friends from church, incredible people all.

Collin didn't fit the color scheme well enough so I delegated picture taking to him.  Next year he had better have some better stars and stripes--or at least red, white, and blue!

 

Kind of a funny final picture.  On our way back home--late, far too late--I loved watching Eddy with his balloon with a wrist loop bobbing down the pavement.  Just such an image of a great childhood day to my eyes.  Then waiting for the bus, watching an "I *HEART* Mormon" advert bus roll past.  So interesting, our intersection of life here in London.  Americans, Mormons, suburban-raised, current city-dwellers, expats.  It's a fabulous life we are living, are free to live.