business as usual

on Holy Island in October

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. In the US, that is, tomorrow is Thanksgiving day. What are we doing here? Well, Anna has dance club after school and the boys are going to a friend's house for supper. Lucy will be at nursery as usual in the morning, and Lewis and I both have to work.

So it goes for the American living in Britain, married to an Englishman. True, he really enjoys cooking and eating Thanksgiving dinner--but only in the States. Here in the UK, we can't be quite that counter-cultural. If only: it would be great if I could get some canned pumpkin, thus making the pumpkin-pie-baking a much easier task...sigh.

Tonight, however,  we are getting the kids ready for bed, because they have school tomorrow. Fortunately, they're not too bothered. That's good: the last thing we need is an excuse for Iain to plead 'day off' from school. I can just imagine him saying, 'But I was born in America. I should have Thanksgiving day off!' Not, of course, that he's interested in the reason for the celebration, or eating the turkey--or even the pumpkin pie, for that matter--he just yearns for days off from school

With any luck (and a miracle at the UK border agency), he'll spend extra days off over the Christmas holidays traveling to California.

He won't want turkey then, either, or pumpkin pie. But we'll have it all the same. After all, a girl has to get that pumpkin fix sometime.

babe in arms

Here is Lucy, on a recent trip to Edinburgh (it was cold!), having a little sleep in the stroller (translate this to whatever word works for your region). Why is it photo-worthy? Because Lucy has taken to sleeping in the stroller only when it's moving. That is, she sleeps in the stroller when she can't sleep on me. 

Don't get me wrong: one of the loveliest things about having a baby is the soft, warm, cuddly feeling of your infant falling asleep in your arms. The memory of that feeling is what got me through my pregnancy this time around. Overwhelmed as I was at the prospect of child number 4, I could say to myself, but at least when the pregnancy is over, for a couple of wonderful years, you'll have a baby. You know, one of those little creatures who smiles and coos and makes you feel like the most important person in the world. They don't talk back, and, for the first few months at least, can't get away. I imagined having back all the things I missed most about Iain's babyhood. (He was, though I say so myself, the most wonderful baby.)

Lucy, lovely, lovely Lucy, is most of those things. And more: she sucks her thumb. I know this will be a problem later, but at 6 months, thumb-sucking is pretty darn cute. There is, however, one trait that she seems to lack: transferability. I mean, when you try to put her down in her bed after she's fallen asleep on you, she instantly opens her eyes and begins screaming as if you'd put her down on a bed of nails, not a mattress. She had about a week of sleeping through the night (or 6-hour stretches, which is nearly as good), in her own bed; she even fell asleep there. All that changed with her experience of jet lag, and since mid-August we've been suffering with her.

Eventually, I know I will have to remind her that she can go to sleep on her own, and she can sleep for long stretches of time in her own bed. I don't look forward to that. So today, when she woke up (in the bouncy seat, even) after just a few minutes' sleep, I took her and let her sleep on me while I finished reading an essay (on the theological virtue of hope in the ethics of Thomas Aquinas, if you're interested) and drinking a cup of tea (lapsang--my favorite). 

Then it was time to take Thomas to buy a newspaper. (Lewis has taken to reading the Financial Times at the weekend, which doesn't have a sports section. Anathema, according to Thomas, who thinks that the main reason for a newspaper is sports reporting and a list of which football matches will be televised, and when.) I opted for the walk, primarily because Lucy could stay asleep on me. 

She did. She slept through the trip, and stayed asleep while I read a whole section of the Financial Times (the arts bit) standing up in the kitchen. (The baby bjorn isn't really meant to be worn while sitting down.) I know that in the long run, this isn't helping. 

But it sure did make for a pleasant afternoon.