Best of Spain

It seems like too much so soon after vacation to actually punctuate and format paragraphs. So without further ado, these are the highlights from our week in Isla Canela, Spain:

relaxing days on the beach

marathon cartoon mornings, adding another country (Portugal) to our list, making a meal out of fresh tomatoes, avocado, oil, and sea salt

playing cards and on the swings at the chiringuito. Enjoying mojitos, Cruzcampo and fresh fish

random meandering wildlife (horses, goats, giant beetles), stumbling upon a vintage tile shop in Portugal and dreaming of coming back with empty suitcases to tile a future home

a rental car, reading lots of books, late nights, late mornings, absurdly timed meals and not caring a lick for a clock or a calendar

buddy time

the pool, finding interesting shells and flowers on beach walks, getting buried in the sand

Looking through the pictures makes me think to tell you that it occurred to me while we were away that Big Sister is beginning to look like Diane Lane!  This revelation meant little or nothing to the Mister who  doesn't realize the great import of "the Outsiders." Google Diane Lane as "Cherry" (or even now) and see if you don't agree.

And I've no idea (other than we've dropped it a kazillion times) why the trip pictures are so hazy but honestly, it was that kind of trip. Everything was bathed in a warm, sunny, sandy glow of late nights, long mornings and perpetual beach hair so the pictures being too bright strangely capture that feeling. I was glad to get home to be able to actually run a comb through Big Sister's hair. For a week I just did my best to organize it.

The Mister is a new expert on the Spanish Civil War and the economic issues in the country were apparent. Trips, no matter how relaxing, can be an education for us all in ways big and small.

But back to the best of our days in Spain. The Mister and I agreed our very favorite part was the boys picking out "best friends" necklaces as souvenirs.

Good times indeed.

Baby Sister Turns Three. Twice

This lovely bit of summer deliciousness turned three last week in Spain. Her siblings can be forgiven for thinking that it is now our norm to celebrate birthdays by exploring a foreign country.

Despite all the fanfare in London, we escaped the rainy, chilly city just after Our Sweet School's Jubilee tea party for the kids' half-term break. A week on a Spanish beach. Sun, sand, books, football, chiringuito. Repeat times seven. Add a side trip or two to Portugal, lots of local ham, Cruzcampo and sand buckets and you have a sense of our week.

It was great to get away and we lost track of time most days. As evidence, we feted Baby Sister on Thursday - two cakes, gifts, candles, pink balloons, lots of singing and good cheer. The whole nine yards. Then Friday, I checked my cell phone and noticed that was actually her birthday!  Even though Biggest Brother is eager to tell his friends that "my mom forgot my sister's birthday" we really celebrated her twice!  Better early than late, but to be sure, not something that would happen to Baby Number One.

Still. I can be forgiven for getting my days mixed up when it doesn't seem like many days ago that the boys and Big Sister were huddled over a bassinet in Illinois.

"Do you like hawses? Do you like dina seurs?" Big Sister asked, already so interested in this little creature about to become her best girlfriend. Not surprisingly, Baby Sister slept (and sometimes stared) through the rapid-fire questioning.  She still stares, wide-eyed at her beloved Big Sister.

I wish Biggest Brother and Big Sister could see even for a moment what the Mister and I so often do. Especially that Big Brother and Baby Sister often stare with long gazes at their big buddies with obvious, heartbreaking, devotion. It is like they are taking a very, very long mental snapshot of what it is like to be Big. The youngest of 4 myself, and a little sister to a fancy Big Sister, I completely relate. I still want to know what is in my Big Sister's purse. I very much get it.

Maybe that it why I was extra touched that when we celebrated a sibling last, Big Sister appeared mid-way through Biggest Brother's sleepover in her Chips The Fish costume. And why I was so grateful that Biggest Brother and Big Brother were very kind to her obvious plea to be noticed. To be included. Hooray, and unending thanks to all you Big people who look out for the rest of us!

Happy Birthday, Baby Sister. It was well worth slogging through the mountains of Jubilee newspapers in pajamas this morning and trudging to the Jubilee souvenir exhibit while dodging raindrops this afternoon to celebrate you on the beaches of Spain.

You're a super little girl and we're all terribly in love. You'll always be our baby. We're doubly glad you're ours.

Guid cheerio the nou, Scotland!

It is almost time for our next school break (hip hip) and birthday celebration (hooray!) and I wanted to show you how much we enjoyed the trip to Scotland when we celebrated Biggest Brother turning 10.

We took a train and enjoyed lovely sights along the way.

We rented a car (always a treat!) in Edinburgh and drove out to the East Lothian Coast where we stayed in an old farmhouse with views of the water. This was our first time since moving to London to stay in something other than hotel rooms or flats. I got teary hearing the kids play in the backyard.

The boys learned how to build a fire in the fireplace. As you might suspect by our winter gear and the grey skies, it didn't feel like April, and we were grateful to have long mornings and evenings by the fire.

Castles, bag pipers, birthday, a "Top Gear" marathon by the fire. It was restful. We went to Easter mass in a quaint town and enjoyed the Scottish Seabird Centre in North Berwick (and meeting faux princesses. They're at every castle. Harumph).

Our favorite part was playing in the backyard of the farmhouse (we miss do miss a yard!) and exploring the coastline of Sea Cliff Beach. This is absolutely Europe's best bargain! For just £2 all the nature and wildlife our city smalls have been craving.  

Some urban girls needed a bit of transition time to enjoy the elements.

And everything is better with cake. Apparently the invitation read, "Come as you are" or at least that was Baby Sister's plan.

It was super and added to our list of new places we've been. Now we can say we've been to England, Scotland, Germany, Spain, France, and a pair of us to Italy. Next up is a week in Spain!

And I can't look at these chilly scenes without raising a glass of Pimm's (it is that time of year!) to the delightfully sunny, cloudless skies we've seen over London for many days now. Summer has arrived.

Big Brother and Year 3 are off to explore the Greenwich Maritime museum today. Think of him visiting where time begins. We're hoping to slow it down next week on the beach where the heat of the day requires siestas and churinguitos. And a dip in the pool.

G'bye Scotland! Pass me the "suncream!"

When in Rome

In my case, when in Rome, turn 40!  Doing our part to keep Euros circulating, the Mister and I jetted off to Rome for 4 days to celebrate. Maybe just as spectacular, he found the most lovely American graduate student studying in London to watch the smalls. Fun for the whole family!

It was amazing. I want to tell you all about it but know I've still not told you how great our family adventure was in Scotland a whole month ago.  I promise to go into more detail about both trips soon (and definitely before we hit the beaches of Spain for the kids' school break in a few weeks (soooo exciting, life in Europe!). Meanwhile, many thanks for the well wishes and countless travel tips, too. We thought of you all during the trip and appreciated departing to emails, texts, flowers and packages and coming home to even more.  I feel very special - thanks to you!

I knew just talking to the Mister completely uninterrupted on the car ride on the way to the airport would be a delight!  And the rest of the trip only got better. We laughed endlessly. I am laughing all over looking through these pictures.

We found much to smile and laugh and chat about. That is, when we weren't enjoying great food and drink, unimaginable scenery and tours, catching a few naps, and strolling through the streets in the hot sunshine and still warm evenings. It was that kind of trip.

They were days we'll always treasure.  I think I'll be busy in the months leading up to the Mister turning 40 to plan something as wonderful on his account. Suggestions welcomed.

Will write more soon, but meanwhile, buona sera and much love from your 40 year old (cradle robbing) friend.

Oh, wait. One more thing - see that man over my shoulder below? He wasn't photobombing us, but rather was part of our evening's dinner entertainment. We concocted a great story about him - speculating that he was a private investigator trailing the couple at another table. Either that or he took a tremendous number of photos of two people he didn't seem to be with. I'm telling you - it was that kind of trip!

I threw a few coins into the Trevi Fountain. Here's hoping that means I return lots.

Dear Virgin Atlantic

I want to commend two Virgin Atlantic employees for wonderful and heartfelt customer service that made a daunting task possible for me. The Saturday before last, I flew from London (October 22, VS021 from Heathrow to Washington Dulles) with my four children (ages 9, 7, 4, and 2) for a week’s holiday in the US. A last minute business trip meant my husband would already be Stateside and would meet us there. Our children are seasoned and happy travelers and we packed plenty of favorite and surprise books, games, and snacks to keep everyone entertained. But I was still a bit nervous about how we would all fare crossing the Atlantic encapsulated with lots of strangers. As added insurance, I’d asked for thoughts and prayers (novenas even!) from friends, family, and our parish priest.

Those well wishes and prayers were certainly answered by your crew. Thanks entirely to the kindness and service of Clare Murphy (FSM) and Yvonne (Flight Attendant just back from maternity leave), the flight was not only possible, but we were kept happy and comfortable and felt genuinely cared for despite being troublesome passengers. Clare and Yvonne will probably tell you that they were just doing their jobs and in that way, I know they’re right -- I suspect the true warmth with which they tended us is very much a part of how they treat all passengers. That we were the beneficiaries of being on their flight was our good fortune and I want them to know how much they helped me.

Without a car since moving to London last spring, our youngest child has enjoyed a life without car seat restraints as we mostly walk and ride buses in the city. At take off, she protested her seat belt in ear splitting, face melting, mortifying, heartbreaking, and maddening tantrums. We endured this with kind help from both Yvonne and Clare. It is notable that they asked me immediately what was distressing this small person instead of just trying to shush her, and actively tried to make her more comfortable. Clare suggested Yvonne stay close to us and help as needed as long as possible.

Once airborne, seat belt light off, a parade of entertainment, snacks, and naps followed for a happy 8 hours or so. Both women continued to visit and check on us throughout the flight and we were always delighted by their chats, especially those related to British football! The boys if anything, suffered from benign neglect while the girls and I snuggled in 2 seats. We were all content.

Then it was time to buckle the youngest again for our descent. She protested. Loudly. First Class passengers may have had their cocktail glasses shatter. It was like something out of a really bad movie. Only in the movie, the mom would be only comically rumpled or Adam Sandler would be the dad and it would be funny. This was all too real for an entire packed flight who had to sit with us and a crew who had lots to do. The descent began to hurt my 7 year old's ears and he started to cry. Maybe the hours of being good caught up to my 4 year old or it was just infectious, but she, too began to cry. And what is a mother to do, strapped in a seat out of reach of three crying babies? It’s true. I am not too proud to say that I started to cry, too. What a complete mess we were. Only my 9 year old managed to keep it together and I’m fairly sure he was just inking it all for notes for a future therapist.

At that very moment, Clare appeared with genuine concern written all over her face. (Maybe she was actually looking for a hidden camera hoping this was a spoof!) She knelt next to my youngest and stroked her little feet, talking in soothing tones. Then as if she were waving a wand, she directed us to rearrange our seating so I could be right next to the baby. Yvonne came too, helping with everyone. I managed to find one remaining lint covered piece of gum in my pocket to help my son's ears and my daughter began to sniff instead of sob. Within seconds, all was well and without a 2 year old screaming, I think I heard a collective sigh of relief from the entire Economy section. I’m sure if they’d been allowed to stand or didn’t fear breaking the now blissful silence, they would have given Clare and Yvonne a standing ovation.

And here I should say that credit too goes to the countless nice passengers who despite suffering through screaming, somehow instead of shooting us dirty looks, were extremely kind to me and complemented the children for being good travelers. As we left the plane I thanked Clare and told her if I tried to say just how much she and Yvonne had done for me that I would simply stand there and weep. I think there is something about parents in general, and maybe mothers in particular, that makes them look out for families with children. I am so grateful to 2 mothers on your team who mothered my clan in our travels.

When I was working I used to keep “atta boy” notes like this in a file to flip through on days when the complaints seemed to outnumber the praise. I hope this letter will make its way to both Clare and Yvonne as well as their personnel files on the odd chance they ever need reminding of their value to customers.