Our Daddy

These kids hit the ultimate jackpot when it came to daddy. He truly is the best of the best. I know increasingly just how fortunate I am to have him as a partner in parenting. He's the fun one, of course. He has strong principles and a way of teaching the reason behind the rule. He finds patience further along the path of frustration than I am yet able. We love love love Collin and wish him a happy early Father's Day and birthday (as we'll be traveling an epic road trip route--yet more proof that he is the man of my dreams!).

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.

Collin's Sign

Not that we needed another reason for going to Salem besides getting paczki, but we were also able to track down a street sign for Collin.

We've got plans to find my sign soon.  Eliza has a street somewhere in Rhode Island, so we'll make that a destination before we leave the area.  Then we'll have a complete set!

I'm so glad when Daddy comes home

When my mom was visiting during the birth of Eliza we had many great conversations.  As always with my mom, the conversations were interesting and deep.  She is thoughtful and wise. 

One of the things we talked about was the fact that children--at least mine--do not always seem happy to see Dad when he comes home from work.  In fact they had recently seemed to be extra grumpy about it.  And a lukewarm or melt-down welcome hurts feelings! 

Is it because they do not understand the way they should welcome him home?  Is it because they feel as if his homecoming is interrupting their play?  Is it because it's just been a long day and it is "arsenic hour" in general? 

So yes, all of those I think were factoring into the disappointing homecomings.  What to do?

My mom suggested that the kids have a time warning.  Like leaving the park or a friends house, like clean-up time, like any of those other transition times a five minute warning works wonders.  Having Collin give a quick text as he's leaving work, or at a certain point on the bus route to let us know his ETA has been extremely helpful for me to prepare the boys.

We try to sing "the song" a little more often so that the boys remember to "pat his cheeks and give him what? a great big kiss."

And finally we are most successful when we transition from regular activities and make the big activity of the day the actual coming home.  We (based on the ETA) wait on the porch, play on the stairs, watch and wait in the front yard with great anticipation and excitement. 

Daddy's homecoming has been sweeter all around since implementing some of these ideas.

Hurricane Sandy

Like most storms that have threatened the Boston area since we've been here, Sandy was pretty uneventful for us.  There were some strong winds and rain for one afternoon.  A tree fell down in our neighborhood but without damage to property or power lines.

It wasn't until the smoke cleared and news about New York and New Jersey came out that we realized how fortunate we were. 

About a week after Sandy hit, we received news that volunteers from our stake were being asked to travel down to the Queens, NY area to help out in any way that they could.  The particulars about when and where to go came out a little too late for us to take action on the first Saturday, but when we found out there would still be groups going down on the following Saturday, I (Collin here) decided to join one of them.

If you've seen this video going around on Facebook about the Mormon Helping Hands volunteers, those images and interviews were exactly what I experienced.  Two weeks into it, people on the streets knew exactly who we were and did not hesitate to come up to us and ask if we could help them out with specific projects.  It was a wonderful experience for me, and I'm so grateful that Rachel sacrificed her free time and our family Saturday for me to go.  Here are a few stories:

I carpooled with a woman in our ward who invited along her mother and step-father, visiting from San Antonio.  Another young mother from a nearby ward joined us in the minivan, and we headed out to Queens at about 5:30am.  Upon arrival, we were met by a few missionaries (a few from Orange County, CA) who provided us with our yellow vests and a list of houses who had already been contacted and had work pre-arranged for us to do.

As we set out and walked the neighborhoods, the outward damage was immediately evident.  Chain link fences had debris still stuck in them and left evidence of the four feet of water that had once covered it.  Cars that wouldn't start after having been submerged were abandoned in the center divider of the street.  Boats without trailers were found down every side street having no sign of the owner intending to salvage them.  Some were full of trash.  Others were spray painted with a message, "Please Take."



For the most part, it appeared as if people were going along with everyday life, but as we got into the houses, it was clear that everyone in the neighborhood was in demolition / clean-up mode.  We first stopped at a house where the resident was not at home.  We called the number on our listing and he asked if we could come back later as he wasn't quite in the area.  We started making our way to the next house when a woman called to us from across the street and ran over to us.  She said she knew what we do and asked if we'd possibly have time to help out at her brother's and cousin's houses a few blocks down.  Having done this for the past week, the missionaries knowingly provided us with a sheet to fill out people's names, addressess, phone numbers, and the help needed.  As we took down her information, she thanked us profusely and said what a blessing it was to have people around who could, at the very least, provide their time.

We had walked no more than the length of one house when another stranger stopped us and asked the same thing.  Two minutes later, another.  And then another.  Before we could even reach the second house on our list, the number of requests we had set out to fulfill had more than doubled.

The second and third residents weren't quite in the area when we passed by either, so we decided to head back to a man who had asked for just an hour or so of our time to help with a project.  Louis Debenedictis, or "Louie Logs" as he's known, had recently retired after 40 years of working for a local electric company.  He continued to make a partial living by collecting and selling scraps of wood, whether it was skinny strips or sticks for kindling, or huge logs and old scrap wood for large fires.  Louie kept this collection in his backyard, which was literally along the edge of the water.

During the storm, the rising ocean carried about a fourth of Louie's wood collection from his backyard, down towards the house, and down the alleyway that led to the main street in front of the house.  In addition to the wood, the ocean had brought in whatever else was in the water during the storm, which was mostly weeds and such, but happened to include an old floating telephone pole.  The pole had fortunately just missed smashing into Louie's house like a battering ram and settled along side the house with the rest of the firewood.  With the help of a dolly and wheelbarrow, we managed to put the firewood back into Louie's backyard so he could have access to his basement and the alleyway where he needed to get started on the rest of the clean-up work.

We got to talk with Louie a little bit after the work and found out that he was a bit of a collector.  Some notable items included a 1950's GE refridgerator that still worked after he drained it and a large international radio at least old enough to be marked "Made in West Germany".  It was a bit strange to see an antique radio belting out Adele tunes.

As we said goodbye to Louie, we gave a call to Tom Wallace, the man who wasn't quite ready for us to come by when we had first set out.  He said he could use our help tearing down four feet of sheetrock and insulation all around the house.  Tom and his wife had a frightening view of the storm because they had decided to stay in their house as the hurrican passed over.  They said they had never been so scared in their life and vowed to never underestimate a hurricane again.  Tom relayed to us the fact that the folks in their area were quite unlucky with the timing of Sandy as the worst of it hit during high tide and moon tide.

Tom knew quite a bit about how to repair the home and I learned much from him and Ray, a member of our group and former carpenter, as they discussed the next steps for getting the place back in order.  The whole experience made me a little more daunted at the thought of becoming a homeowner someday.

After only two houses, our day of work had been filled.  We dropped off our lists of names and numbers collected during the day to the local missionaries who would follow-up with them during the coming week and piled back into the car for the long, restful journey home. 

A Proud Moment for Collin

Thursday the boys and I went to the Natural History Museum at Harvard to see some dinosaurs and rocks and such.  Then Collin met us at the park on the common and we went to Mr Bartley's Burger Cottage for dinner.  Awesome waiters that understand kids and don't mind the mess, crunchy and juicy sweet potato fries, incredible burgers (or veggie burgers) with hilarious names (I got the iPhone that was "sirius"ly delicious and Collin got the Viagra) and refreshing frozen fresh lemonade. 

We discovered Sesame Street on Netflix this week.  I. Love. It!  They so did it right with Sesame Street.  I am pretty particular about the shows I let Davy watch.  I'm afraid I may always be a control freak about the TV.  I don't even love all the shows that I put on for Davy during quiet time (he gets to choose between Kipper, Thomas, Go Diego Go, Wonder Pets and Sesame Street).  But Sesame Street is one I am always happy to play for a 45 minute down time.

Davy's quite the folding clothes champ.  He folds his pajamas every (most . . . some) morning that we decide they are clean enough to wear again.  He also helped me fold a few of his clothes on laundry day happily and proudly.  Those small happy helping moments of the day sure make a difference!

Saturday morning the Primary presidency put on an Olympic activity.  It was really well done, with just right games/contests, and an impressive opening ceremonies including a torch (flashlight) and a parade of flags (posters that the kids colored).  We were team blue, otherwise known as the United Celestial Kingdom.  Go UCK!

Davy was not happy with the no hands rule for the cupcake eating contest.  So he just helped himself.  Disqualified, but content!

Collin had his proud moment when he downed his cupcake in 9 seconds flat.  Beat the record by three seconds.  It was fun to hear about the unofficial "adult" games going on, while the scores for the kids were the only ones recorded and taken into account for medals.  One of my friends blew a 7 inch bubble that was pretty impressive.  (Mine was only 3 inches, pooh.)

A snack before church helps us get through much happier.  We're one of those mean families that doesn't do snacks or toys in sacrament meeting.  So a little something before we go in is essential!

 

La Boheme and Leftovers

Welcome to 51 Walden -- home of the Friends of the Performing Arts in Concord.  This year was "FOPAC"s 40th anniversary, so they decided they wanted to do a fundraiser with a little flair.  The organization had never done a full-blown opera, especially not in the foreign language, so this was a great opportunity for me (Collin) to join in the chorus of La Boheme.

WARNING:  The following contains a LOT of make-up.  Elch!

The Tenors!

I wanted to shave that beard off as soon as I could.  Not without a little fun first, though.  Hey, is that Kevin Costner?

We forgot to add these pictures below to previous posts.  These are from our Donna's Donuts trip.  We indulged in only two of the goodies, but the "meatball sub" and huge Texas donut looked pretty good, too.



Sharing an iced hot chocolate at L.A. Burdick's.

Splash park fun.

My Handsome Boys and a Cake Thrown In

So I heard from my sister Katy, via my parents, that this blog is no good unless it has pictures. I think I may agree. Who wants to read lame old words anyway? Pictures of cute kids are way better. Here's for you, Katy:

 Little monkeys and little dare devils the two of them.

And here is for me:

Oh, yeah . . .  What a hunk.  The beard is being grown specially for the opera Collin is involved in.  He joined the chorus for La Boheme that will be performed in the first week of June.  He even gets to sing a solo that is translated:  "Over there."  "Whats in the basket?"  "Move along."  And he will wear a coat with tails and brass buttons and a sergeant cap.  Cool, eh?  So several people asked me at church today what I think of the beard.  Pretty much goes like this:  I think it's incredibly hot and manly.  Hate kissing it, though. 

P.S. on Collin.  I promised my brothers and Dad I would post this for them to watch again.

Don't know if you can read what's on the hat.  Gramps (Collin's dad) got these hats and shirts a few years ago for the Lambourne clan, in honor of his kids graduating from Lambourne University.  I have an honorary degree, I think, after 5 years.  The grandkids are working on theirs.

Last cake of the cake class.  Davy's friend Laura is turning three this week, so I got to make a nice cake but not have it around the house torturing me and my children, thank goodness.  Foist the junk food off on someone else, that's my new philosophy.  Anyway, I'm happy with the way it turned out.  Fun to learn to make the little roses on the spinny rose nail thing and I remembered to spell all the words right in the cake.  Laura was so adorable when I dropped it off.  Her mom told me today that she has to wait until Wednesday to eat it, but takes it carefully out of the fridge five or six times a day to look at it.  Best compliment there is.

Funny quick anecdote about cake class.  Mostly old (middle aged) ladies taking it, but one teenager with her mom.  The teacher called her 'kidlet' as a nickname one time and the 13 year old asked why she was called that.  The teacher said, "Because you are the youngest here." The girl then said, "What about Rachel?  How old is she?"  I was flattered and embarrassed and said, "Let's put it this way.  I have two kids and I am twice your age."  Says more about the cute teenager and her perception of age than about me, but funny anyway.

Yesterday while Collin was at opera rehearsal, the boys and I explored a nearby town called Acton.  Cute little town.  Awesome houses and yards!  We found a church thrift store that was open and popped in to check it out.  As we were walking up to the store front Davy looked at the big cross on the front of the church and said loudly for all the world to hear, "Hey Mom!  It's a huge sword!  Can we buy a sword at this store?"  Yes, so apparently all that discussion on the crucifixion and resurrection a few weeks ago at Easter did not include a good explanation of the cross symbolism.  We'll keep trying!

To report:  there were no "swords"--real or crosses--for sale at the thrift store, but we did come away with an inflatable globe, Curious George book, Olivia board book in pristine condition, a bouncy ball that was clenched in Eddy's fist and would have caused an earthquake to remove, a wavy flag for Davy, a hand made cross stitch wall hanging, and a horse ornament.  Guess how much I spent?  (Collin hates this game.  I make him play it several times a month and I think he's getting pretty good, but he still doesn't like it.  Wonder why?)  $5.05!  Bet you didn't guess that.  Now the real fun is telling Collin all the things I didn't buy.  You know, like in Anne of Green Gables when she says, "If you only knew how many things I want to say and don't."  Same thing.  (Aside.  For my dad it was, if you only knew how many chocolate things I wanted to eat and didn't.  We all have our own things, I'm sure.  Or maybe it just runs in my family?)  An awesome $15 chair (we really don't need any more chairs, even an awesome one), another milk glass vase for a buck, a mosaic flower pot but I don't remember how much that one was.  Anyway, you get the idea.  I'm learning to keep my list of "didn't buy" to three or under.  Collin is so patient.  And so are you, if you made it to the end of this paragraph!

Back to the real reason for this blog:

Eddy needs a few minutes of spot light.  I want to put up a whole list of words all organized like I did for Davy, but that's just not happening.  So I'll just post a few of the words I love to hear from Eddy.

More, back, all gone, ball, dog, woof, baa, neigh (horse), hi, bye, Maddie, Daddy, Mommy, Davy, peek-a-boo, hand (for help getting down stairs), book, diaper, potty, yuck, no, yes (mostly head shakes for this one, in varying degrees of enthusiasm), whee, scooter, button (belly button), up, down, in, out, chocolate, yay, outside, shoe, sock, hat, water (both to drink and to swim in), choo-choo, cheese, bread, slide, swing, run run run, bed, hug, okay, soap, jump, kick, door, uh-oh, bath, balloon, here, God (for I Am a Child of God song), star, moon, prayer, plane, car.  I'm sure there are more.  He understands so much and can do so much with his pudgy little hands.  I love that boy to bits.

This picture below was Eddy's favorite when I was showing him all the photos I took on Friday.  Guess why?  Because you can see the ball in it, of course!  He's holding it in almost all of them, but I just cropped it out of my frame.  It's so much a part of him, though, I should let it in the picture more often.

I got a glimpse of how impossible it will be to get a good picture of three kids when I tried with Maddie in the mix.  It's hard enough with two (which is why you rarely see the brothers together in my photos), but three?  Forget it.

Eddy's graduated to a regular chair.  He refused to eat safely in his highchair enough times in a row, and then refused to get in at all, so now we're in a booster.  The books were a temporary fix one morning when Collin was up while I lazed about in bed.  The books were Twilight and Eclipse, so I'm thinking Collin wouldn't have minded much if milk had spilled all over them.  ;)