All I Want for Christmas. . .

". . . is my two front teeth." Or in Rose's case, the other front tooth. She cut her first yesterday, poking out on the bottom.

Do as I Tell You

When I was little, I had an uncanny memory for going places. If I'd been there once, I could give directions on how to return. My parents would use me as a pre-Computer Age GPS.

Cami spent most of Saturday playing at a friend's house. When I opened the door, the first thing I heard was, "She is amazing!" I'm never quite sure what to expect next when I hear those words. This time it was good. The mom explained, "I've never been anywhere near here & she told me exactly where to go. Turn right, turn left, go around the corner. . . ."

I'm sure Cami loved it: an adult who recognized her as an authority figure.

Graham's Title

I distractedly said, "Thank you, Mr. Graham," as I was working in the kitchen & he moved out of my way.

His cute response, "Your welcome, Mr. Mommy."

Don't I taste good?

Just fifteen minutes ago, I took this classic fell-asleep-thumb-sucking shot. Perfect. Especially because she isn't a thumb sucker.





And for other tasty extremities. She needed some piggies to nibble during this morning's diaper & pj change.

Driving away Fear

As Americans there are certain social markers that we hold. A big one: the car.

I remember talking to friends from really rural areas while attending college. Some of them told me that there were people they knew who owned cars that cost more than their homes. That was such a foreign thought to me: that one would make a substantial financial commitment to a tool that automatically depreciates.

When we decided to move to England, we decided not to buy a car. First of all, there's the financial commitment issue. And cars that can hold three car seats are not as readily available here as they are in the States. But much more than that is my fear of driving on the left side of the road while sitting in the right front seat.

Today, I faced the fear. Not for long, mind you. I just drove around the parking lot while a friend (the van's owner) ran into a shop. I never got beyond first gear. But I have now done it. It's a start. . . but we still won't buy a car any time soon.

Pretty Leaves

Our Friday plan was to take a walk as a family. We went exploring & found what will probably be Cami's next school, since her current school only goes to Year 2.

Anyway, there were these amazing leaves & I just needed to have a photo of them -- and the "big kids."

Empty Headed

A classically windy, wet, English day. I took Graham to Kirkstall Abbey, where we played at the playground. As I watched his delight at rolling a toy truck down the slide, I thought about a quote I'd read. In summary, it was a mother of now-grown children saying that she wished she had spent more time "in the moment," noticing and enjoying all the details of every day.

Just twenty minutes later, I was standing in the middle of an herb garden, looking out over the autumn-colored trees, with the roof of the Abbey hovering above. I kept thinking, "I should be having some great thought. I should be finding some life lesson in this moment."

But, the life lesson of the day is to enjoy the moment -- and to laugh when Graham lays down on almost-frozen flagstones, pretending that he's pulling the covers up in bed.