Happy Mum's Day, Ch-ch-ch-Chicas!

My first Mother's Day looked like this (hi, Jen and Bella!):


That day Josie cut her first tooth, which I discovered after it was burrowed deep into my finger (hi, Josie!)

This year, Mother's Day looked like this:


Wow, May in Bath. It's... well, it's about 13 degrees Celsius. If you're as good at temperature conversion as I've become in the last 19 months, that's... somewhere between nipply and Icee fingers. Undeterred, we were determined to celebrate - despite the fact that it's American Mother's Day and the only celebration here seemed to involve clutching a pint and painting one's face blue in fervor over some rugby team - dressed in our springy best, covered by fleeces (about as fun as when Mom made you wear a snowsuit over your Halloween costume, which happened often pre-global warming). After an hour in bed with hot coffee, reading my new Jamie Oliver cookbook, Jeff and Josie presented me with lovely presents.

Jeff got me something he thought I would love:


While Josie, knowing I've been searching for a new bag, got me something she knew I would love:


Don't even try to steal that, Marc H.

And then - yes, dressed in the aforementioned springy best (forgive me, we found Ravenswood Zinfandel in our local grocery store and I'm a glass or two in), aforementioned adoring famille took me to a lovely cafe right on the river for a fantastic brunch. The menu elicited sighs all around - pancakes, Eggs Benedict*, bacon, granola with yogurt. Lattes so big you could swim in them...ahhh, perfection. England, me likey.

Then what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a cruise boat parked on the Pulteney Weir! Those of you who know me know I loves a boat ride! I've ridden the Circle Line 5 times, the Hudson Line twice, and the Bateau-Mouches 1,274 times. So on we hopped, heading directly into the North Sea wind for the first half of our hour-long tour. No Statue of Liberty, no Grand Palais, but we saw a kingfisher, and lots of cows... the perhaps rugby fan boat driver snagged a long tree branch which almost took our Maclaren stroller into the icy waters. Josie watched Dora the Explorer on my iPhone. I had a delicious Pimms. That made me feel like the best Mom ever.


So, all youse moms with your sunny Luxembourg picnics, your lazy brunches at Geoffrey's in Malibu, your highfalutin' spa afternoons at Bliss, I bet you wish you spent an hour hearing about the building of the Victorian sewer system whilst your lips turned bleu as Beau Nash's bollocks. I betcha.

But really, it's about who you spend Mother's Day with, even if it's boating with Brits, shopping for drill bits and playing "Mommy Dinosaur" in the park while your child shrieks with fake Jurassic terror and the locals stare, aghast. Love to all the Mums today.


*Eggs Benedict. Hollandaise: check. Eggs: not runny to my liking, but check. Spinach: check. Bacon: asked for sans. English muffin: ummmm.... Just not the same on toast. Moi: "Oh, you don't serve Eggs Benedict on an English muffin here?" Waiter: (blink, blink) Moi: "Yes, I guess that would just be a muffin." Waiter: (blink, blink, blink) Moi: "Yum, toast! Benedict, is that for Benedict Arnold, I wonder? Do the English consider that an insult...err...yum, toast!"