birthday season

Autumn is always busy. Birthday season begins in late August, when I start planning for Anna's birthday, and runs until October 12th, Thomas's birthday. In between, we have the start of school for the children, the start of the new term for our students (with all the events that involves), and--of course--Iain's birthday. We're coming up to the end of birthday season now, thankfully. I enjoy their birthdays--how could I not?--but I always breathe a sigh of relief when the morning of October 13th (or the day after Thomas's party) dawns. (A full birthday report with photos will follow.)
 
Thank goodness Lucy's birthday isn't until May. Between now and then, we just have to get through Christmas...

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As promised

Ready for the birthday girl!

glad the boots fit--and that she liked them!

On the day: she had to wear her new boots, her favourite party dress, and the hat & jewellery she received as presents. And the cupcake frosting had to be pink, of course.

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Autumn, again

Oh, dear. Has it really been more than a month since the last? It is back-to-school and birthday season around here. Anna turned 11 last weekend! I admit that the above photo isn't from last weekend. It wasn't quite that warm here in Durham, and we certainly weren't having a pool party!

Not being a technological genius, I am having difficulty getting the photos from Anna's most recent birthday uploaded here. But rest assured that there are some, and I will figure it out. And when I do, I'll add a picture of Anna in her new ballet getup, complete with tutu. Stay tuned!

going by bus, again

Some days, I am amazed at how helpful bus drivers can be. (See 'a free ride' for a story about one in particular.) Several weeks ago, I stood waiting for the bus into Durham, with Lucy in the stroller (pushchair, pram, buggy, or whatever-you-like-to-call-it), hoping fervently that it would not be a double-decker bus with steps. Though it isn't a common occurance, the last time I tried to board such a bus, the bus driver just shook his head. Then he drove on. So when the bus approaching was the dreaded item, I signaled anyway, hoping against hope. The driver, who was young and friendly, nodded approval, but said that I'd have to collapse the buggy. No problem. Except it was impossible with one hand so to do. Another waiting passenger offered to help, and I accepted. Lucy was not keen on being handed over. Amidst the fumbling and screaming, the driver descended the steps and picked up the stroller, stowing it for me without needing to collapse it. When we arrived at our stop, he fetched it for me and set it on the pavement.

If you've ridden a bus in Durham, you know that's like winning the lottery. Not unheard of (a couple won over £200K just last week), but a rare bit of luck. Contrast the above with a shorter story with a less happy ending: a couple of weeks ago Anna, Iain and I waited at the bus station, with Lucy in the stroller, on a warm and sticky afternoon a . We'd been into Durham on the bus and were heading home. I struggled through the crowded station to get onto the bus. Upon hearing our destination, the driver quoted me a fare of £5.90. I stood there with £3.30 in my hand, the fare we'd paid to get to Durham. For a split second, I started to reach for the difference. Then I turned to the driver again and said, 'But it only cost us £3.30 to get here.' He looked straight at me and said unapologetically, 'It'll cost you £5.90 to get back.'

We didn't take that bus.

Snapshots

Snapshot 1: Lucy shows her personality. Or, as we call it, Lucy reaches for the iPhone. By far her favourite playthings are the phones (home phone or anyone's cell phone she can get her hands on) and the remote controls. I confess that I have given her the remote for the radio (which lives in the kitchen) to satisfy her lust
for power without actually enabling her to change the channel or disrupt the DVD. (In fact I hadn't been talking on the phone or even sending a text message: I had the phone in Lucy's general vicinity in order to record for posterity the extent of the couscous-scattering. She's world-class, and comes second--narrowly--after Iain, the champion scatterer.)

Snapshot 2: Big brother and the (soccer or foot-) ball. Thomas was watching Lucy outside; I was about to scold him for picking her up, when I saw what he was doing. He had only carried her as far as the lawn, and only in order to get a ball so that they could play with it. Lucy was thrilled. Suddenly it didn't matter so much that the house was a mess and the washing machine constantly running. This was one of those moments I dreamed about when I daydreamed about what having kids would be like. I dropped what I was doing and went to take photos.

Snapshot 3: Iain, taking a photograph with my iPhone. Photographed by Thomas, who was using my iPad. What more could I possibly say...except that I didn't give permission to either of them, and only discovered the incident as it appeared in my photo stream. So this is what they do when I'm not looking. Could be worse, much worse, couldn't it?

 
 
 
 

Chicken pox

 

I meant to take Lucy to a pediatrician in the US while we were there in April, to have the varicella (chicken pox) vaccine that the others had at age 1. But we were busy playing at the beach, seeing family (just yesterday Iain asked if we could go back and see his cousins), and going to Disneyland (thanks, Nick & Carmen). So Lucy has chicken pox. I am not at the meeting today; I won't be at the meeting tomorrow. Oh, well.

Lucy, on the other hand, thinks having a bath in the middle of the day is great.

Two Sundays

 

This was Sunday, the 10th of June. Fortunately Anna stayed clean and dry on the 17th in her first Holy Communion whites. The same cannot be said for Thomas, however, who took the opportunity of having friends round as a sign that it was time to play football. So much for that new, brilliant-white shirt.