This is why you just shouldn't make New Year's resolutions.
Even though I'm only working about 1/4 as much as I did last fall, things are still completely mental. Afternoons are consumed with homework -- and keeping Hugo at bay while we do it. And on the weekend we're carting Josie to activities ranging from acting class to birthday parties, and soaking up as much of England as possible before what is looking more and more like a summer departure date (sob!).
Christmas seems like ages ago so why bother... we went to Michigan, had a lovely time seeing friends and Auntie Emily and Uncle Andy, blahbity blah. We returned just before New Year's, and ended up staying in for New Year's Eve, chucking the kids in bed early and cooking an amazing Jamie Oliver dinner... Venetian steak, potato-celery root puree, chocolate pots de creme for dessert. Eat your hearts out...
Mmmmmm.....
After dinner we had big plans for a Game Night with a brand-new trivia game Jeff had bought me for Chanukah called "Reminiscing - the Sixties to the Oughts" Undeterred by the enormous box, we broke inside to find a cribbagey-looking game board and about six different-colored booklets. We quickly discovered that rather than drawing cards and reading off them, like Trivial Pursuit or pretty much any other trivia game in the Western World, you rolled the die, and read a question from that decade's booklet, a la "Go to the Head of the Class" from your childhood - choosing the question using an algorithm too complicated to explain here.
We'll forever reminisce about the moment the game finally ended....
Game-lovers that we are, we got past the unwieldy booklet system and algorithmic question-choosing and dove in. My first question: "The MP who lost his North Devon Seat in 1979 was _________" Jeff gamely followed with "The 1985 Gramophone Record of the Year was a version of Elgin's Violin Concerto by ________" Never quitters when it comes to games, we suffered through two hours of Norman Lamont, Paddy Ashdown, and John Stonehouse. Who? Really, you don't know who the Postmaster General of Britain was in 1979?
Unless anyone wants it, Reminiscing is waiting in the Donation Box to go to Oxfam toute de suite.
We then tried to raise the intellectual level of the evening with the Homeland finale. We were thoroughly enjoying it (or so we thought) until we were both awakened by Josie thundering down the stairs, yelling "Bombs are going off, or something!" (I knew I shouldn't have taken her to that exhibit on Bath in the Blitz). We had planned to watch the London fireworks on telly, but never having been here for New Year's before, we didn't know Bath had its own fireworks.
Since Josie was up, we let her snuggle in with us to watch London's amazing display -- and chuckle at how calm, quiet and dignified Londoners were compared to the mad wankers flailing about Times Square. 12:15 on the dot was a golf clap followed by "Happy New Year, g'nite everybody" and bzzzp! Done. Static. No J-Lo gyrating around the stage, no Jenny McCarthy grabbing randoms to make out with, no Ryan Seacrest pretending Dick Clark (may he rest in peace) didn't skip three numbers between 13 and 7 and say Happy New Year! four seconds too late. But on the flip side, we got our rest.
In other news.... Jeff did another weight loss contest with his best friend "Russ", Chubalooza 2. It got pretty serious. He even got Hugo into the fitness craze.
Josie and I trained to London together to see the Nutcracker; the show was amazing, even though she dropped all her Jelly Babies (which we went to 4 different stores to find, because it had to be Jelly Babies) on the floor within the first five minutes. Of course, I let her eat them anyway, because how dirty could floors in Central London theaters filled with zillions of norovirused children really be?
Hugo, now nearing birthday number two, is really coming into his own. His favorite things to do, after eating corners off all his books, are sneaking biccies out of his diaper bag and clubbing his sister with blunt objects. We're spending a lot of time on the Naughty Step.
But when he's good, he's very, very good.
And finally, Jeff and I took advantage of our apparently delusional nanny's offer to stay with the kids overnight, taking our first solo trip since moving to Europe. It was just a train ride away, to the Meridien Piccadilly. but it was absolute heaven. We got upgraded to a suite (which never happens), took a guided tour of St. Paul's (and actually saw the church and heard quite a bit about it!) We buzzed around the Tate Modern, shopped, and met my old friend Pat and his lady Julia for hip cocktails overlooking St. Paul's and then dinner in Soho.
At the Duck and Waffle Bar, posed provocatively in front of "The Gherkin"
The restaurant, Bob Bob Ricard, was completely amazing. Your taxi door is opened by smiling Frenchmen. Your coat is magically removed and checked. And when you sit down in their lux, plushy booths, you look to your left and see this:
Hello, lover
The food was great - "Russian-French-English-inspired fare" and the service fab as well as the company. Unfortunately, someone pressed the champagne button a few too many times.
Where you looking at, Drinky?
Back from London, back to real life, unfortunately 'bye to school and hello to "Half Term" which is British for "we need a break from dealing with your manic kids for a week, so take them off our hands pronto." We colored every book, stuck every sticker, made bracelets, painted ceramic mermaids, pretty much cleared the crafting shelf. Oh, and we went to the Roald Dahl museum, which was super cool.
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Doh! Not even as tall as an Oompa-Loompa!
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I saw no fewer than eight people lick this as they walked by, I kid you not.
The Brits can be such freaks sometimes!
Lots of plans for our remaining months as ex-pats: a girls' getaway for me and M to Lisbon, a drive-around vacation seeing England and Scotland, and hopefully another night away in London while aforementioned delusional nanny still in our employ! 'Til next time... when we'll do some more "Reminiscing!" (or not.)
“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.”
― Roald Dahl
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