Little bugger

So...er...ahem...ummm... I found out just LAST week that the term little 'bugger" isn't quite the endearing term here in the UK as it is in the States in reference to these little rug-rats we call children. I use it all the time in reference to Charlotte and her miniature friends- in emails with my moms' group friends, at the GP's office, the market, on the Tube - just about anywhere in public you could imagine. Now, I don't know if my American friend was trying to save me further public humiliation or rather, just a "hey, guess what I found out today" heads-up, but I am now the recipient of this insider information. What to do with this new information is the question of the week. It puts a bit of a kink in my vocabulary, as I'm now at a loss for words when referencing said peanut. I mean, I guess I could call her Charlotte and her friends by their birth names, but really, where's the fun in that? I have to run... I have a long list of mates in which to apologize. Oh bugger!

Turkey Day

So it may not have been a "typical" Thanksgiving day, but we had a great little celebration way over here in London. We had Fr. Cool visiting last week, so the contemplation of making a full turkey dinner easily became a bit more justifiable. Cooking for 3.5 people seems to be more of a celebratory atmosphere than just 2.5 people - this latter contingency would have had turkey (deli meat) sandwhiches. But alas, our first Thanksgiving here in London proved to be a good day.

We started off our day with a mini-beat music class, the gym and then off to the Sigmund Freud Museum. I mean, doesn't everyone start their Thanksgiving with a psychoanalytic adventure? And while we didn't eat until 8:30 (London time), it was right in the middle of the US celebration. So, technically speaking, I wasn't that overdue with my 7:00 estimate. Crying babies take priority... sorry burnt sweet potato casserole.

My first "hosting" of Thanksgiving included: all homemade everything... except for the wine. So here goes: chunky cranberry sauce with lemon zest, stuffing -Martha Stewart's recipe, sweet potato casserole (not too sweet, with nutmeg and a hint of brown sugar), gravy, broiled asparagus, a boneless turkey breast wrapped in bacon and a pumpkin cheesecake. Upon opening the butcher paper for the turkey breast, I was surprised to find it gloriously wrapped in bacon. What a wonderful and unexpected discovery. I'm sure you would agree with me in thinking more foods should be encompassed by a little pig now and again. If Hostess embraced this sentiment, perhaps Twinkies would still be around.

disclaimer: Charlotte only has her pacifier because she kept crying when we entered Freud's study (the "couch" room) and was scared for the remainder of the tour.

hand, foot and mouth disease = 1, family trip to prague =0

The last few weeks, we have seen one infestation after another - illnesses not rodents (half-thankfully). Colds, Tonsillitis and now Hand, Foot and Mouth disease have reared their ugly head in our household and these are only including Charlotte's poor little maladies. Over the past 5 weeks, I have been feeling so sorry for this little bugger (and to be wholeheartedly honest, a bit for myself too) as she just can't seem to get well. We have visited NHS on a weekly basis. This latest bout sounds a bit animalistic, but I can assure you it is not the same as Foot and Mouth Disease. I have Googled, Wikipedia'ed and WebMD'ed like crazy to ensure this is in fact, the truth. I almost feel as though I should receive an honorary MD* degree at this point. (*Disclaimer - Just kidding - to all those real MD's out there.)

I question where Charlotte has picked up these illnesses - could it have been from one of the other 10 rotating toddlers at the creche at the gym? or from one of her two playgroups where these toddlers steal each others sippy cups? Music class where sucking on the bells is way more fun than ringing them? Certainly not from the wheel of her stroller which I found her stealthily licking the other day...

In lieu of this latest medical misfortune, we decided to postpone our much-anticipated trip to Prague. To do so, it only required two doctor visits, a letter request, two hotel cancellations, two separate Newsagents fax transmittals, and four phone calls to British Airways and we are now able to re-book at a later time. Anyone up for a trip to Prague before August 15, 2013?

I have been asking myself repeatedly, "When will all of these illnesses end?"... to which I clearly know the answer. This is merely just the beginning... ("wait until she starts school" is the whisper I imagine hearing from all of the parents reading this)

We did manage to get out of the house and into the city this weekend. Christmas Festival at Southbank Centre - yep, Christmas is everywhere here already!

Cornwall

We were fortunate to have our friends Kati and Brett (and their two cute little buggers) come and visit us last week. It was so nice to see some familiar faces from home here in London. It almost makes you forget where you are when you are with your friends. Kati even said that she kept forgetting to take in the scenery because it was as if we were "home" back in the states rather than in England. We headed out to the coast, Cornwall to be exact (a 5+ hour drive with 3 kids under the age of 3 in the car) with Brett as the brave navigator. I have to say that he was cool, calm and collected during the entire trek. Not an easy fete with pouring rain, three car seats and oh yeah, driving on the opposite side of the road! I sometimes have trouble just following the road when I'm walking it, nevertheless trying to drive it. ha

The southwest coast of England is gorgeous. Not a bad location for Charlotte's first ever beach experience. Reminds me of a mix between the cliffs of southern California and the rocky Maine coast. Even a bit of rain couldn't spoil the scenery this breathtaking. I'll let the pictures do the talking...

Happy Birthday

And... she's 1! Little miss sunshine turned 1 today and though so cliche to say,it is amazing how quickly the first year seemed to pass us by. While some days were long (think of sunset at 3:30 pm, winter and lots of rain), this past year has been so insanely fast - I am finding it difficult to wrap my head around the fact that Charlotte turned 365 days old today. Reflecting upon this time, both Tim and I have gained many a new life lessons/insights into our new life as parents. A few of these are as follows:

1. Waking up before the sun rises isn't always a bad thing, especially when the alarm awaiting you has a giant grin on her face
2. "Free time" is a term we no longer use - it's easier that way
3. Kids are a lot of work, but knowing you are helping to shape their future makes each moment worthwhile...and a little bit scary
4. calling your spouse mom-ma-ma-ma or dad-da-da-da sounds really normal after a few days
5. We're going to start selling empty boxes and label them as "toys"
6. We don't have a car, but can easily identify the 2012 model strollers
7. Boogers and messy diapers lose "grossness" when they belong to your own child
8. (Off-key) Singing in public is totally acceptable when it is labeled as "Rhyme Time"
9. No one can make her laugh like her dad
10. We wouldn't trade a single day of it

Happy birthday, peanut butter...

celebrity (near)sightings

What a productive 10+ months we have had here in London thus far. To date, we have personally seen John Goodman (old news, walking along the Thames back in February wearing a fabulous grey sweatsuit), Ricky Gervais (power walking in a Hanes tee and mesh shorts, walkman in hand), Chris Martin (no big deal - just the lead.singer.of.Coldplay running along my street) and Boy George. Okay, this last one is up for debate. This most recent sighting was last weekend at the Sir Richard Steele Pub in Steele's Village while casually enjoying a beer and feeding Charlotte dinner. Don't judge, children are allowed at pubs. And we weren't technically IN the pub, we were seated outside in the concrete garden. Back to the story... Upon his entrance, Tim and I (eyes wide open) glanced at each other and stealthily turned away to plan our photo opp. After further review and Tim's paparazzi moment, I concluded that it is NOT a one Sir Boy George. Tim and Charlotte swear it is he, as Google (old reliable Google) confirmed he once lived in walking distance to this pub. And Charlotte couldn't take her eyes off of his striped pants and platform shoes. Can you blame her? You decide.

*Add Tim Burton to the list...ate brunch with him on Sunday. Okay, not "with" him... but he was sitting at the table next to ours.

Bonjour

Now add an "e" in between the "bon" and the "jour" and say it with a Julia Child tone. You are now privy to my exact butchering of the French language. Needless to say, it is only one of two French words in my entire arsenal of french vocabulary. Come to think of it, I think Bonejour is a dog store in Philadelphia. Happy to see I inquired my phenomenal pronunciation from a pet store in Olde City.

This past weekend, we discovered that one can only mask being an American in Paris for so long when the first word you're required to say sounds like it evolved from another planet. However, we only felt very American in Paris until Tim overheard a southerner at the hotel check-in say very loudly and proudly "MERCY, MERCY" to the receptionist. [insert Merci, Merci for those non-french speaking individuals] After that, we considered ourselves seasoned Europeans. I mean, I now call undergarments by their proper name - pants. This coming after a bit of an embarrassing tailoring conversation last week. But that's for another day...

We had a great time in Paris - what a beautiful city filled with rich culture, architecture and the best macarons on the planet. Eating an entire baguette for dinner (not to mention loads of cheese, charcuterie, red wine and grapes) has never been more appealing. Even Charlotte got in on the culinary action with a Croissant. Aside from eating, we saw some of the major attractions the city has to offer - beautiful gardens, The Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe and the Louvre. A few pics to document Charlotte's first "holiday" are below.

Laduree, mmm macarons

Eiffel Tower 

dinner in our hotel room 

boat tour on the Seine

favorite places

For the last three mornings, while I have been preparing breakfast for Charlotte, she has been scampering away from her toys in the living room (reception room to the English folk) for a much more intriguing and prime location. This is where I have found her on each occasion:

Melts my heart... gushy, gushy

Dear Abby,

My mom keeps trying to feed me [sneak in] various types of food, many of which I try to splatter all over the floor, table and curtains for my friends, the ants, to enjoy. Ever heard of quinoa? If not, keep it that way. My mom says it is super healthy, a great source of protein and the "whole grains" won't bother my tummy. Well, it bothers my taste buds so I hope it disappears from our house as quickly as it appeared in my diet. Oh yeah, and hiding them in homemade applesauce is for rookies... What should I do?

Sincerely,

 Charlotte "I want sugary snacks" Anne

___________________________________

Dear  Charlotte "I want sugary snacks" Anne,

Listen to your mother. End of conversation.

Sincerely,
Abby

Peaches and butter

100% natural and organic. Who would have thought peaches and butter would make such a terrific hair gel? I think she may be on to something here... Any takers?

Olympic fever

Olympic junkies. Yep, that's us. We just can't get enough and it doesn't hurt that they are taking place right down the street. Well, okay a few miles away, but still "local". I am a bit bummed that we have only been able to watch one event thus far in-person - the women's marathon. My attempts to purchase daily released tickets for other events has proven futile. Hopefully we'll be able to attend the men's marathon on Sunday. At least I can say that I attended the 2012 Olympics and our future Olympian (Charlotte seems to have an affinity for water) has pictures to prove her attendance.

a soggy start to our Olympics viewing

Future Gold Medalist? Or just Cadbury chocolate junkie...

Go team ?

On a humorous note, Tim and I had a very interesting swimming discussion. I believe this was during the men's 400m Freestyle finals - (preface: after watching every swimming event occurring during the Olympics thus far... and every Olympics prior to 2012) Tim casually stated, "I don't even know why they call this race the freestyle, as if anyone is going to choose to doggie paddle or breaststroke while everyone else is flying by with this stroke." Oh Timmy...I guess neither Ian "Thorpedo" Thorpe nor Gary Hall Jr. made much of an impression on you growing up. ha

Stonehenge

Okay, so not the real Stonehenge, but how cool is this? In the spirit of the Olympics and festivals across London, Sacrilege (a life-sized inflatable bouncy replica of Stonehenge) visited our local park. Even after nearly getting pounced by very enthusiastic "children" (aka, other parents trying to show off their glorified high school gymnastics skills), Charlotte enjoyed every minute of it. While I hope to visit the real Stonehenge one day soon, I'm sure it will not compare in the least to a bouncy castle. Ahem, you know, for Charlotte.

Bookworm

I love books, they're delicious...

Charlotte has taken it upon herself to taste-test every book we own. If you ever glance upon her library, you will think we are the proud new owners of a puppy. Wrong my friends - the teeth marks and the small missing chunks are from our beloved 9 month old daughter. Here's to hoping the paper is BPA/lead/chemical/everything free. I'm sure I would win "Mom of the Year" if her doctor knew her main source of carbohydrates were coming from Pajama Time, The Hungry Caterpillar and Goodnight Moon.

Polar opposites

So yesterday, Saturday, was an interesting day. It started with sunshine and ended with fog. I (finally) ran in my first Parkrun in Hampstead Heath - the sun was shining so I had no excuse. The Parkrun is a weekly (and free!) Saturday run that occurs all over the UK (and the world). These runs are meant to encourage runners of all sizes and speeds to get out and enjoy a timed run through one of the UK's beautiful parks. Each runner has a barcode that is scanned at the end of each run and you have an entire online profile which is updated and maintained by the volunteers of this awesome organization. It is an awesome idea and one that I would love to spread to PA when we return. During my run, I snapped a few photos to show off how enticing a run around London can be. I'm sure the other runners were mumbling "tourist" under their breath as I flashed away. Check this out: http://www.parkrun.com/home

I beat her, btw

Last night was Ladies Night - woo-hoo! We have been planning this soiree for a number of weeks, especially our attire. After all, we were going to DSTRKT*. A CLUB. I haven't been to a real club since... well... the Princeton in Avalon, NJ was a hole in the wall (it has since been updated and I hear the men are now required to wear shirts).  And this wasn't just any club, it is THE club where Kanye and Kim K hang out (I watch way too much E! here). We weren't able to enter the VIP area (shocking, I know) so not sure which celebrity was making their guest appearance. I wore heels for the first time in years, but to be honest, I wouldn't have been able to see anyway.  You know, with all of the fog machines.
And check this out: http://www.dstrkt-london.com/

*Tim (oh so sarcastically) said DSTRKT is so cool, they don't even need to include vowels.

You do the Hokey Cokey...

and you turn yourself around... Wait - you do the hokey WHAT? Yep - cokey. For over 6 months now, I have been trying to read everyone's lips at music class because I was certain they were trying to say pokey and just couldn't pronounce it properly. You know, because my English and pronunciation skills are just stellar. (insert eye roll here). But it was confirmed yesterday - they are saying cokey rather than pokey. I'm probably just being partial, but cokey sounds so ridiculous for this oh-so-serious song. Come to find out, if you were a New Zealander, you would do the Hokey Tokey. Who knew one silly little song could have so many profound variations. If you would like a full history of the song (I know, you probably already have Google open and ready to search), it can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hokey_cokey.

And I wonder why I find myself staring blankly at the grocery clerk when he asks me to enter my pin number for the third time.* Come to find out, I can't remember my debit card pin because I have filled my brain with useless Wikipedia information. But happily, so will you.


*(I did a full grocery shopping (= one hand basket here in London) and I had to leave the store without any groceries. I couldn't recall my pin number (the one I use everyday) for the life of me. I had to call the store once home to notify them I would not be returning (I provided some lame excuse, to which I can't recall) and to place my groceries back on the shelf. I was too embarrassed to return and I'm certain I am now on the "watch" list for a stolen credit card.

hiatUS

We've been on a bit of a break from posting, as we were traveling in the States for the past three weeks. It was a busy, but fun, time visiting family and friends. Now I'm ready for a vacation! I guess not working for these two years is my extended vacation of sorts... if only London were on the water. (and the yummy River Thames doesn't count).

There were many "firsts" that occurred while away, some of which include: a Christening, two bottom teeth, crawling, a carousel ride, juicy 4th of July watermelon and swimming. I should mention that these were milestones for Charlotte, in the chance you're not sure which one of us has just mastered these skills. And I hadn't realized how nauseous a carousel can make you - it just keeps going around and around and around, for what seemed like eternity.  I'm convinced they used to move more slowly when I was younger rather than the dizzying speed similar to the teacup/saucer ride-effect of this past experience.

Here are a few pictures from these past few weeks:

On an unrelated topic, Tim wanted me to post the following bit of advice: When heading out in London, even with the sun glaring and not a cloud in the sky as far as the eye (or binoculars) can see... bring an umbrella and a stroller rain cover. Because it WILL rain and you WILL get caught in it. And you WILL be standing under the closed market awning with ten other unprepared ex-pats trying to wait-it-out. I may even invest in a rain poncho... saw one for 2 quid at Tesco this morning. Assuming I remember our own advice.

rain rain go away

come again... NEVER!

ugh. I know, I know. I should have been "prepared" for this weather. When most people think of London, certain images come to mind: Big Ben Parliament, double-decker buses, The Queen and usually the leader of the pack: rain. And boy have we had our share of rain. And wind. And more rain. I do think my gym comrade was accurate in his weather forecasting - summer graced us with her presence for two weeks, never to be seen again. Welcome back old man winter. *

Thankfully, we did have a short break in the torrential "showers" on Saturday for a few hours and we were able to walk to Regent's Park, where a large Green Fair was being held. At one of the organic children's clothing retailer tents, the saleswoman said how delighted she was to have summer back. Summer? Oh no - I looked down and took note of my attire - boots, jeans and a wool sweater.

So while the days are damp and dreary, we do have a little ray of sunshine who makes it all the more tolerable.

Charlotte's Mr. T picture (notice the naturally occurring Mohawk)

*Note: This post is not intended to deter visitors. We promise we will order beautiful weather, should you wish to venture to London in the near future.

Eggs, allergies and parties

So... we had quite the "exciting" day on Tuesday. Not only was I preparing for our first dinner party in London (yeah!), but I also had the pleasure of escorting Charlotte to the ER (A&E here in the UK). You see, I am not a worrisome person, but due to my allergy oddities, I have been slow with moving Charlotte into the solids phase. Allergies and choking are my TWO greatest areas of concern for this little bugger. I try to talk myself off the ledge, but I still have such anxiety about both issues. I'm working on it... but any suggestions are welcome. (I just can't fathom how someone can eat without teeth?)

I thought I would introduce Charlotte to scrambled eggs - I figured she needed a bit of protein after weeks of fruit and veggies. After one-half of a teaspoon of eggs, she began to cry incessantly and rub her eyes and pull at her ears. Within two minutes, her eyes started to swell shut and she had massive hives all over her face/neck. Yikes. Because I still haven't taken the Baby First-aid course, my only thought was to call 911 (999 in London) after not getting a connection with her GP. Perhaps I jumped the gun a bit too quickly, but the ambulance was here in a "quick" 25 minutes. Thankfully she was breathing fine and had started to settle down by the time help arrived. (Note to self, walking to the A&E is faster than getting a ride in the ambulance.) We took our first, and hopefully last, ambulance ride together to the hospital. She seemed to thoroughly enjoy it - go figure. Needless to say, she is highly allergic to eggs. Poor bugger, but nothing a little Prednisone, nursing and napping couldn't help to ease the pain... Looks like I will continue to be the only family member eating all of the bakes goods I have been making. ugh

On a culinary note, we did host a dinner "party" for three of Tim's co-workers who were in town from the PA office Tuesday evening. I can say "party" because when you only own 4 chairs and there are 5 people present, I call that a successful party! I whipped up fig and blue cheese stuffed pork tenderloin, brown and wild rice with fresh herbs, a mixed green salad with strawberries and candied walnuts and a Swedish apple pie. Tim told me the raisins in the pie are polarizing... but I think he just likes to use fancy words.

All in all, Tuesday was a successful day. I came home from the hospital with a healthy baby, we had a great time with Tim's co-workers, and I now have 3/4 of an apple pie to finish off...

All the small things

While this is the name of one of Tim's favorite bands' songs (Blink 182) and I now have the lyrics running through a loop in my head, I am actually referencing a small epiphany (of sorts) I had experienced this past week. If you like cheese, get the crackers (or biscuits, as the locals say) ready because you're in for a bit of a cheesy post this morning. And it you like quince, it goes really well with a nice cheeseboard.

Life just seems to happen. I prefer to move at a mile a minute and I'll be the first one to declare my extreme lack of patience. Tim will easily second this. I like to stay active, have an agenda and the thought of a "lazy Sunday" is sheer torture.  I do believe this may have changed a bit for me this past week.

The sunshine is in full force (though I hear our summer may have occurred and is now weaning, I hope these crazy Brits are wrong) and no better way to celebrate than to go to the park. At the park, Charlotte kept rolling herself off of the blanket and onto the grass. At first I could not grasp her fascination with the grass and was getting a bit annoyed after repeatedly trying to wrangle her back onto the safe space of the blanket, until it dawned on me. This is the first time she has experienced the feeling of soft, dewy grass on her warm skin. To see her excitement and intrigue from a mere blade of grass brought such a calming peace to me. Small things...

We went out to lunch on Sunday with two of Tim's co-workers and Charlotte was so well behaved, better than usual for her very active self. I was sitting next to an open window and I kept placing Charlotte's face by the open pane so she could feel the cool breeze. She couldn't get enough - Tim took her outside when she began to fidget a bit and all she wanted was to feel the wind on her cheeks and through her spikey hair. Small things...

And for the first time on Sunday, she wore a little sundress without tights. If only you could have seen the joy in her face when she felt the sun on her chubby little thighs for the first time. All the small things...

Too often, I don't take time to just stop, breathe and watch as I'm sure most people are guilty of the same crime. Having a child has changed this for me, as I  now slow down a bit to just be present in that moment. While I still don't like the idea of a "lazy Sunday", I am content knowing these are the days where memories are being made. But don't even think about carrying over to another day of the week!

Oh, he's so cute

Not once or even twice, but we hear this constantly from complete strangers.  From the grocery delivery man to the woman waiting in line at Starbucks to the woman crossing the street (pushing a stroller, with an infant BOY inside). And all too often I find myself consoling said stranger after telling them his name is Charlotte. "Oh don't worry about it, you can't tell when they are this age." Or, "I know, that purple jumper would look great on either a little boy or girl." Really? I'm starting to get a complex for Charlotte, as all of these inaccurate comments bring me back to the winter of 1984...

It was a dreary and dark winter in Maine that year, and I'm not talking about the weather. It was the winter that initiated my perpetual anxiety (sheer terror... ha, get it?) for the hairdresser and provides that dull pain in my side when strangers ask "How old is he?" in reference to Charlotte.  Sitting in the hairdresser's chair that infamous winter, the stylist kept cutting and cutting and cutting, until there was mere peach fuzz remaining. The final straw was when she asked me if I would like it spiked. SPIKED?  You're asking me if I - a 5 year old little girl - would like my hair SPIKED? I want hair so long that I can suck on it all day like my older sister does with her hair. And you're asking me if I want it spiked? At that, I made a mad dash for the bathroom and locked myself in there for what felt like days - just staring with horror and disbelief at the little boy-girl in the mirror. I'm still not sure how I was coaxed out of the bathroom, but I'm sure it had something to do with the mention of sprinkles and Dairy Queen. Unfortunately, proof of that life-altering event can be seen in a Christmas photo of my brother and I sitting on Santa's sleigh - the only way you can tell us apart is that I am the one wearing a dress. Oh yeah, and he has a long bowl-cut.  

So perhaps my complex for Charlotte is a bit over-exaggerated, but I can't help it. Have you seen her spikey hair? It seems all too familiar to me. The only comfort I have is knowing that the spike is unintentional, and that she's not old enough to understand those strangers aren't able to see her pink onesie underneath all of her Padres gear.

I'm 7 months old today ya know

Charlotte turned 7 months old today. And I promise you, she instantaneously seems older. It could be that I awoke this morning to her percolating coffee and giving me grief for wanting to sleep in past 6:00 am. Okay, so that's a lie. But she is growing out of her 6 month onesies - and that's the truth.  It is truly amazing to watch the changes that occur with each passing day. Mind-boggling, actually, is more of an appropriate term for what is occurring on a daily basis.

With each passing day, she is getting funnier and starting to develop a little personality ("little" in the sense of her size, not the depth of her personality). Tim and I are always boasting to our family's how funny she is, but I think they are skeptical. It could have something to do with her deer in headlights demeanor the moment Skype initializes. (Poor girl, I think she takes after me in the sense that she freezes at the mere sight of a camera - Have you seen my grade school mugshots, err... I mean photos?) Until we are able to travel back to the States for a visit, hopefully some of the pictures will help tell her story. The first picture below is just to help me accept that she is 7 months old and the second picture is to showcase a mere glimpse of her humor...

Birthday 10/15/11

7 months old 05/15/12

Like Father, Like Daughter

I guess it is the law of physics such that what goes up must come down and what goes in must come out. Except, I wish this latter concept were a bit less, well, stinky. Within the past few weeks, I have been introducing solids (well, pureed solids) into Charlotte's diet. Perhaps I was a bit delayed in doing this, but that seems to be the theme around here. Honestly, I was trying to avoid the inevitable diapers that coincided with this mew milestone. Tim and I have been wondering how early is too early to start potty training? And we haven't yet introduced the aromatic foods such as meat, dairy or seafood.

She has thoroughly enjoyed her rice cereal, porridge and carrots thus far. And then came the "green stuff" - peas... Coming from a veggie lover, I thought peas would be a neutral "green" to include, as most health related books barely even quantify peas as a vegetable. She shakes, shudders and gags with each approaching spoonful. Tim told me he doesn't blame her and that we should try other non-green veggies. No way is Charlotte getting out of it that easy. The future quickly flashed before my eyes - The vision of two family members now carefully dissecting and segregating the little green veggies to the side of their plates after thinking I masterfully camouflaged these in said meatloaf.  A few more days of tough green veggie love until we move on to the next green adventure. Sorry kiddo!

After going to The Other Art Fair yesterday in Marylebone, Tim and Charlotte had fun planning their coup d'veggie ...

whole grains and toupees

In looking through my very limited stack of cookbooks recently (somehow my favorite cookbooks were sent to storage but a Buffalo Bills bumper sticker made its way to London... go figure), I came across one of my go-to quick and easy recipes. This recipe comes from Mark Bittman's Food Matters book - Whole Grain Flatbread.  I seem to now have a slight addiction to this (and Peeps, but that's another story) and make it at least twice a week. We are obviously observing a low-carb diet. But I wanted to share this as it is so easy to make, a healthy and fulfilling alternative to pizza and looks pretty - the last of which is of utmost importance.

Here is the recipe: http://content.markbittman.com/recipes/easy-whole-grain-flatbread and a few pics to showcase the delectable results. (Just a note: Please do not grab the handle of the skillet without an oven mit after the skillet has preheated and is ready to go back into the oven with the dough mixture. One occurrence can be translated into an accident, but twice, well - I  suppose I just wanted a matching scar to show off.) Because I am constantly "tweaking" recipes, I have found that coconut oil works well in place of olive oil and you don't need as much as it called for in the recipe. And any herbs complement this bread. Pesto, fresh tomato, basil and mozzarella are heavenly on this bread. Since dinner doesn't seem to count unless there is meat involved, our flatbread below had chicken and pepperoni... A salad with a house-made citrus, honey and shallot vinaigrette is a lovely accompaniment.

In an unrelated yet quirky topic: At the gym yesterday, trying to work off my whole grain flatbread and peep consumption from this past weekend, I was watching a show (on one of the 4 TVs in the entire arena) comparable to Antiques Roadshow. Talk about motivation! Well, I came across a line that is now going to make its way into my dictionary. Rather than saying "Tip your hat to so and so..." (should you say this in the first place), they say "Take off your toupee to so and so...". Lesson #2

Salmon Fishing

...in the Yemen.

Not a bad movie choice for Charlotte's first movie experience. One might think a Disney creation would be her first flick, but that's not how we roll here in London. Ha... jk. That's not it at all. In actuality, the cinema here is quite baby (aka mom) friendly - every Tuesday at 11:30 am, they have Baby Club and you can bring your baby along with you. For a mere 13 quid, you get to sit in leather chairs (they resemble couches more so), let your baby fuss/cry/poop/scream/sleep/eat as much as you want without feeling guilty, eat cake and drink tea and watch the latest released movie. I was quite wary to try this, as I wasn't sure how Charlotte would respond to the loud noises, massive screen and oh yeah, that little thing called sitting still. But she LOVED it. One other mom from my mom's group joined me and we are planning on going back next week. I'm not sure if anything like this exists back in the US, but I'm definitely going to try and get this introduced to our local cinema in Narberth. I can't believe I just went to the movies with a 6.5 month old and didn't cringe once when she started blowing raspberries at the other children!

I emailed Tim the following pictures and he responded asking if I thought they may have a Saturday baby club. Sorry Tim - some girls have all the fun.

it's a small world

I don't know if you have ever been to the UK (or anywhere in Europe for that matter), but everything here is so small. I'm talking everything - from the taxi's to men's pants to a jar of mustard. Perhaps my eyes and size-referencing have become accustomed to oversized everything in the US, but I have found it to be a uniquely interesting facet of daily life here.  I actually feel like a normal sized-adult, rather than the very short-statured adult I felt to be in the US. In that regard, I like it!

Now I know most of the world uses the standard metric system and the US is the one of the few outliers, but I am having a difficult time adjusting to this new measurement system. For one thing, the metric system makes it sound like you are getting more for your money - who wouldn't want to buy a box of cereal for 4 quid that contained a whopping 500 grams and is called the Value Pack!?! In actuality, that is precisely 17.63 oz for a $6.40 US-equivalent box of Special K. I am embarrassed to say this, but it has taken me until this week to realize the following: You pay ALOT for a little here.  I couldn't see this at the beginning because you could go and buy orange juice for 2.00 quid - comparable to the US, that is about $3.20. But, here is where the fun begins - one is paying 2.00 quid for 1L of oj. That's $3.20 for a small QUART of standard oj.  I have previously been equating product to product, rather than product size to product size. Lesson #1 (well, now that I am officially counting)

Even the people are little:

On a side note, I met a woman today at Whittard's whose son and daughter-in-law live in Wynnewood, PA. And she works at Drexel! Talk about small world...

Official

It's Official...

I'm a mom. Well, technically I have been since 5:10 am on October 15th, 2011. But most recently, now I'm talking about the "mom" I said I would never be. You know, the kind who joins a mom's group and discusses strollers (prams here in the UK) over tea, who loses track of the last day in which she showered, who sings her daily routines to entertain "you know who" and herself and the one who wears socks with slippers all day(because it is just too darn hard to put socks AND shoes on while holding a crying baby, three pacifiers, a diaper bag, a stroller, two loads of laundry, an Ergo carrier and a bumbo simultaneously).  A year ago (pre-pregnancy) I would have been discussing the latest and greatest restaurants over a glass of wine, showering on a much-too regular basis, semi-ridiculing my friends for having actual toys in their house and wearing heels even when home alone.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy being a mom. I just look forward to the day that I can leave the house without a complete stranger notifying me that I have dried spit-up cascading down my back. Or that a "big day out" included more than heading to Robert Dyas to purchase a food processor.  That being said, it dawned on me late last night that I'm actually a "mum" while living here in the UK. Sounds quite glamorous, don't you think? Noting this, maybe I'll start wearing heels around the house again...over my socks.

Day 99

So here we are. Day 99 of our adventure. I was supposed to start this blog precisely 99 days ago. That was the plan... and we all know how plans are always strictly adhered to when there is a baby in the picture.  So, with that in mind, I'm actually right on schedule.


Let me start off by saying I am the last (I mean dead last, back of the pack, number 101 out of 100, 0% chance) person on earth to ever start a blog. I've eaten my words before, so I'll do it yet again. My intention is to give our geographically-distant family and friends the opportunity to stay connected with us during our two years in London, watch Charlotte grow/change and selfishly, to chronicle our adventures while living in London. The time change and lack of decent international calling plans (and my own self-described laziness) hinder our ability to catch up with everyone on a routine basis. While I can't promise a great blog (I was born lacking the "attention to detail" gene), I can promise that I'll try and keep you up to date with Charlotte's milestones and anything else that may seem intriguing.

Just to give you a sense of the changes that occur in an infant in 99 days, here is a picture of Charlotte's first few hours in London and then a picture of her this past sunday enjoying her very European-looking jumper.