Pink. With Sprinkles on Top

We're all jumbled again, telling you about our last week while enjoying this one. All part of a mixed up summer schedule, right?!

Our summer schedule - or lack of one - means that today, Big Sister drowsily emerged from her room more than an hour after we would have left the flat on a school morning. And don't get me started on bedtimes. The Olympic excitement makes it too hard. At least the Mister and I've stopped waiting up for John McEnroe's antics on the BBC's end of day show - ripe for a SNL skit. 

Anyhow. We drew "bake" one morning last week and our assignment languished a bit while we bounced on Stonehenge, checked in at the library, went to a birthday party, and took advantage of other adventures. Then a cool morning presented itself and baking popped back up on our itinerary. Also that the kids were chanting "when are we going to BAKE?!" whenever there were two quiet moments strung together. I do love that they enjoy something I like so much. It also justifies my bringing 4 boxes of cookie cutters abroad. One day we'll bake more and more complex things again. I find myself into quick and easy baking of late. 

Quick, easy, delicious and these smiley faces in the kitchen?!  What could be better?

It became sort of a team event. The girls made pink lemonade cookies (thank you, Kappa Prep!) and the boys whipped up iced brownies. Big Brother apparently feeling like Isaac Washington in the kitchen.

Baking always makes for a great maths lesson and usually results in a some conversions, too.

The desserts were just as pretty as they were delicious. The Mister was asked to judge. I believe he declared a tie. He is a diplomat, our guy.

I never did get to take a picture of the platter. We gobbled up the goodies all too soon.  

Yesterday we watched the Triathlon in Hyde Park, had lunch at Kensington Palace, and toured the new exhibits in the reopened palace, too. We should someday be experts on royal lineage. My camera battery died just as we followed this big crowd to watch the swimming. Biggest Brother helped me take palace pictures on my phone and hopefully he can also advise me how to download them, too. 

How super is it that a pair of brothers was on the medal stand at the triathlon?  How sweet it is, this summer!

And another thing, since we are talking pink sweetness. Apologies for discussing both the medical and the edible, but I have to confess that still reigning over our summer is my bothersome eyes. I will not go into the extreme yuck of it all, but will say that I am beginning my own campaign against the darling sounding "pink eye" (what's next? Polka dot mumps? Glittered gangrene?) when what I've been slogging through is bright red, zombie movie, swollen, teary peepers. That are now sensitive to light. I may be the only one who was squinting in the shadowed darkness of Kensington Palace. Don't get me started on having missed an already overdue hair appointment and going 3 weeks in glasses and no makeup because of my eyes. Vanity was my first symptom. 

So thus far, our summer: very sweet, but definitely not pretty. Now, who saved me a brownie?!

Happy Birthday, Buddy!

Oh, our sweet Big Brother!  You turned 8 during an exciting time. Half of the "C Club"/your cousins and a beloved aunt and uncle were visiting and you were a week away from finishing "Year 3," just ahead of the Olympics coming to London.  Forgive me that all that fanfare has delayed my telling how neat your birthday celebration was - high above our new city.

Big Brother played a season or two of soccer in Illinois, but living in London has lit a fire under this interest of his. So it has his admiration of luxury sports cars. The latter I chalk up to last spring when he was not yet at Our Sweet School and did the "school run" for Biggest Brother, walking through some very fancy neighborhoods four times a day. I keep telling him, but am not sure he understands, that cars he sees on a regular basis here are ones he'll likely not see again en masse outside an auto show.

But, back to "football." Playing it on the school's rooftop playground and watching the Euro2012 Finals (Hooray, Espana!) and maybe even lots of European travels have made this a passion of Big Brother's. He was the only one to be counted on not to doze during the finals as they stretched into extra time with penalty shootouts, his siblings long since tucked into bed. He sure held his own (Biggest Brother, too) playing with his Brazilian friends in Hyde Park at the Adidas exhibit last week. I can't say I saw this coming a year and a half ago, but am tickled whenever anyone here finds something to rally around.

Big Brother is the family blanket, cuddly and affectionate. Funny and sweet. Artistic and sensitive. He began as a big, quiet baby and lulled us into thinking that was going to be his demeanor, sweetly observant of Biggest Brother's entertainment, punctuated with a honky laugh. Then he became amazingly physically advanced. Big Brother walked very early and I cannot remember him not talking. But outside our house, when he was little, he was very quiet.  With the exception of family (where he seemed to talk and create in paragraphs) and with select friends, he didn't have much to say. But he's always been a keen observer and a hysterical mimic.

I'm fairly sure he didn't say anything to most of the moms I chatted with for 2 years at Biggest Brother's preschool. I remember, though asking his kindergarten teacher in IL if she considered him shy. I could see her face contorting, trying very hard not to laugh as she gently explained to me that indeed, was he not shy in school, but often he was so very busy chatting upon arrival that she had to "encourage" him to get started with the day. The following year his lunch box would often come home nearly full.  He claimed to be too busy talking to get to his lunch. Fine by me!  I'd gladly serve him a big snack if he was happily visiting with school friends.

This little lovey has bloomed even broader in London. He has a wide circle of friends and is cherished at home. He is Biggest Brother's best friend (see also: their Spain souvenirs!) and is a super playmate to the girls. He may always be Archie Bunker to Big Sister's Edith. They've been a bit of an old married couple from the day she began to screech his name.

Big Brother is a middle child, and he wears it well. Tops on his birthday list was a "Spain kit" with his name and the number 2. Following on the great idea of a baseball shirt from his godparents given years ago, he is not only content with "2" -- he shines there.

So. On his birthday, surrounded by some of his very favorite people, Big Brother chose to soar above London on the newly constructed cable cars. You've never seen such a view of our city. In a thrill to my stomach I've not felt since clutching smalls on Ferris Wheels above Navy Pier or German Christkindlmarkts, we sailed, all too quickly, over the Thames. It was made so much richer by being with my own Biggest Brother and his sweet brood. I know Big Brother felt extra special to have some of his cousins with him. A day we'll never forget. And not just because we enjoyed Chipotle later.

Happy, happy birthday, Big Brother. I cannot believe you are eight, but I also cannot imagine life before you were here. You are treasured. I'm torn between wanting to freeze time when you are this sweet age and praying to be privileged enough to see the bigger boy, the teenager, and then the man you will become. I love you. We all do!

Big Brother's First Communion

Where does the time go?  Big Brother already had his "Fourth Communion" (he's keeping track!) at Mass today at school and I've not told you about his first. Today was very special because it was the first time he and his classmates in Year 3 took communion at school. They were so proud of themselves and happy. As they should be. They were feted after Mass with scones and juice in the music room of Our Sweet School. The Headteacher reported they saw the scones and said, "For us? Mass AND scones?! Could today get any better?!" They are that sweet. (Mostly. They are also 8 and always forgiven for when they're not so sweet.)

But back to mid-June. It was a lovely and truly blessed weekend with family celebrating Big Brother and his nice friends. It was delightful that my parents were here!

Big Brother was was so happy and confident -- how wonderful on an amazing day in his life. He has really matured. He is easy and happy, kind and thoughtful. He was ready. He also looked very smart in his tiny suit. So did his darling friends. The girls glowed with their shiny hair done just so and their white dresses ethereal. They were all lovely. They are loved. They are at such a dear age of being big and little all at once.

To commemorate the day, I asked friends, family, teachers and neighbors - friends new and old, near and far to send Big Brother a page for a surprise scrapbook. You would love reading through it just as I know he will for years to come.

One of the most poignant notes was from a dear friend of ours who left London for a life in France with their 4 children. She said to Big Brother, "The day you have been carefully preparing for with all those special classes after school all Winter has finally arrived. All our thoughts are with you and all our little friends from year three. Give them a big hug from us when you meet them on the church steps this morning. I know you realise the importance of this special sacrament and this BIG step you are making in this meeting with Jesus. This is a day of great celebration for you, your family and school friends. I still remember every detail of the day I made my First Communion with my little friends and all my family around and I know years from now you will treasure your memories of your day too. As you head down George St this morning think of all those little boys and girls who throughout the centuries have proudly headed off, like you, with their friends and family to celebrate this special sacrament in their local church. You are continuing on a long tradition and today it is your turn. Enjoy and we all hope that maybe with a bit of luck we might be able to bring you to our lovely local church here in Bordeaux some time soon."

We sure hope so! It was a beautiful day and we were so proud of Big Brother (and Biggest Brother, too for being the altar server) and so thrilled to have Gigi and Granddaddy here.

Bless his heart. And bless yours for praying for him and sending such lovely reminders of a day we'll always treasure.

(Also there was a heavenly miracle of sorts in that I scanned a photo. Without the aid of a 10 year old. Amen. Rejoicing ensues!)

Dumpster Diving Decor

Remember when I told you Big Brother was part of a tree planting ceremony? Well, as promised, here is the link to the lovely ceremony where Big Brother and Our Sweet School's Green Team helped BBC's John Simpson plant a tree in Marylebone. Don't feel bad if you don't spot Big Brother easily. He looks a bit like a muppet in a navy blazer with his long hairdo! Still, he can be so proud of taking part in such a nice event. And how lovely are the comments John Simpson makes about the day?

Doing my part for the earth, I found this treasure in a florist shop trash bin over the weekend. It is a brightly colored, sturdy box emblazoned with the Union Jack. I spied it en route to pick up Biggest Brother from a birthday party.  There it perched, on the tippy top of a trash heap, calling out to me.

I waited until Biggest Brother was with me to get it. His interest in why I'd want something out of someone's trash gave me the courage to ask the proprietor if I just might take it home. The shop is where we bought our Christmas tree, so I sort of felt like a customer -- even though I wanted a freebie out of their trash.

Walking away, I laughed, saying, "one man's trash is another's treasure!"

Biggest Brother had never heard this expression and thought it was so funny. He adopted a pirate accent and detailed lots of possible examples. As in, "Argh. Me hearties! I've found this old banana peel in a bin! SUCH a treasure! ARRRGGGH!" The banana peel reference isn't too far from how the Mister perceived my find when we got home.

Maybe it is the renewed talk about where and when we'll land next that has me collecting again. I'm not above looking far and wide.

Big Sister was a good help holding it on her lap on the bus. Not sure where it will end up. Maybe it will get a new life as a magazine rack or holder of extra throws in the living room. But for now, it has joined my British collection adding color to the kitchen.

Repurpose. Plant. Recycle. Repeat. Sounds like the Green Team mantra and that of people who move around, too.

I'm Scared of the Zoo

Everyone thinks their children are funny. In my case, I'm pretty sure I'm right. Big Brother cracked me up with this revelation yesterday over breakfast:

Big Brother:  I'm kind of scared of zoos.

Me:  Really? Why's that?

Big Brother:  You know those glass window things in inside exhibits? The ones where there are chipmunks and snakes and things?...

Me: Uh, huh (Also: where's my coffee?).

Big Brother: So many times when you're looking in at them Nothing Is In There. And I'm looking for it behind rocks and leaves and sticks. And then I start to wonder, "Where is the animal? Is it crawling on the floor? Is it about to jump on my head?" That part makes me sort of scared of zoos.


ahahahaha!  I'm telling you I couldn't help but to laugh.

Now, if he was a nervous boy, I'd find this pitiful and thought provoking. But Big Brother is a pretty carefree soul these days so I took it for what it was - just pure 7 year old boy observation that is truly comedic.

So worry-free our guy is that his classmates were in awe that he wasn't a bit nervous about making his first confession this week in preparation for First Holy Communion. He was actually beaming on his way in!

I understood his lack of nerves on this account, though. This is a little guy with a clean heart, a clear conscious. A sweet boy with a kind heart. He has lots of God's grace and shares it with us readily. I was fairly sure he'd not have too terribly much to say on his own account during confession and would feel compelled to address his Mother's transgressions instead to fill the time. Although it was a private moment with the priest, from what I understand, I didn't come up (this time). Whew.

So, my sweet boy is very dear and also really funny. Not because he's trying to be, but just because what goes through his head is undeniably comical.

I love Big Brother.

A Tree Grows In Marylebone

It was a big day for Big Brother this week when he joined the rest of his buddies from Our Sweet School's Green Team to help plant the 500th new tree in Marylebone with BBC World Affairs Editor, John Simpson and the Lord Mayor of Westminster.

Lesser known dignitaries were also in attendance (including Baby Sister and me) and we were all greatly cheered by lovely remarks about the permanence of trees and their value to life. Even, maybe especially, urban life.

The idea of this little sapling one day being a tall shade tree really spoke to me. That it will quietly guard this little corner in Marylebone for decades to come makes my heart full. I made Big Brother promise to always visit "his" tree whenever he returns to London as a teenager or adult. You can help him remember to do so. The tree is at Hallam and Gildea Streets, W1, just outside of the BBC Broadcast House. As a semi-permanent wanderer, I really love the idea of some "thing" that we had even a tiny part of standing tall. And weathering London when we've gone from it.

And I know what you're thinking. He (Big Brother, not John Simpson) is absurdly overdue for a haircut. We'll have to get to that before Holy Communion or I'll really regret pictures that resemble Rapunzel in a little navy blue suit. With the busyness of jetting to and from Rome and last night's Family Disco at school and all, haircuts have been moved off the calendar each week.

A the return visit to the dentist has been similarly postponed. Just you wait until I tell you about our first British dental visit someday. I think it took approximately 3 minutes less for you to read up to this point as it did the dentist to examine 3 of my children's teeth. Gracious. You probably don't want to hear my rant about British universal health care. But you're here so I'll just say this - I suspect those who champion the principle (which is admittedly a laudable one) of such a system haven't ever actually experienced one. Our experience has given me a much more nuanced opinion than I had before arriving. I want to pen long, effusive love letters to our former pediatricians, my OB/gyns, and nearly every other physician or medical staff that ever cared for the Mister, the smalls and me Stateside. Continued side note, though: we have had excellent care at an NHS A&E (emergency room) which does make me wonder again about a system which provides great care in emergencies while neglecting general practices.

Soapbox dismantled, now back to Big Brother. To his great credit, he wanted to wear his school blazer and tie. Even though the school is technically in "summer uniforms,"these days (which includes polo shirt and shorts option for boys) he opted to get all dressed up for the big event and even asked me to pack a comb! This is the same little boy who formerly wore only fleece "comfy" pants with an elastic waist with softest shirts he could find. I think he liked only the soft clothes because as the second of two boys (and not needing new clothes) I splurged on countless new cozy blankets for him, each one softer than the last.

How cute is my little man?  Hopefully you'll soon get to see action shots, too as video of the day will be on You Tube next week.  I'll keep an eye out and post it.

Go Green Team!  Go Trees!  Go Big Brother!