Three weeks down, three to go!

Thursday marked the halfway point of our trip. Bill has already worked his way through his reading list and is starting to branch out to other sources, and I'm feeling very satisfied with the amount of exploring the boys and I have squeezed into the past 3 weeks. I know my posts haven't been very interesting, but I feel such a responsibility to record each day here. The boys' memories of all this will fade--Jimmy probably won't remember much of it in a couple months from now--and I want something permanent for our family to take away from this trip.

It will be like this delicious scone never existed.

While it's my third time in England, this trip has given me the chance to see the country in a new way. Besides experiencing it as a mother and staying in London rather then the country, it's different in that I'm spending most of my days like the locals do, and so I'm able to observe British people in their day to day lives. When I was here the first time I was 21 and I was caught up in the independence of studying abroad and the excitement of falling in love. I had the blinding confidence of a privileged young adult, and I remember thinking that British people were rude. Now I shudder to think of how rude I must have seemed to them. On this trip I'm much less confident (toting around a screaming toddler knocks you down a few notches) and I'm suddenly aware of how kind and decent most British people are.  There are definitely fewer interactions between strangers and virtually no small talk between moms on the playground, but there is a level of respect, and willingness to help, that is wonderful.

This week went pretty well. After our relaxing day at Coram Field on Monday, I felt ready to tackle something a little more exciting. A trip to the famous Harrods department store seemed like a good idea. On the way there I explained that we were going to the place where princes and queens shop (I have no idea if this is true) and Charlie and I decided to speak like royalty for the day. That turned out to be a fantastic idea because 1) Charlie's take on royal language was ridiculously cute and 2) it encouraged him to be polite.

Ah, the chocolate display

Everyone is getting ready for the Diamond Jubilee!

Next, we had a "fancy" lunch at the kids' restaurant. The chicken strips and piece of quiche were by far the most expensive thing I've bought on this whole trip. Geesh. Finally, I told the boys they could each pick one toy from the incredible toy section. I was worried that they'd choose something too extravagant and I'd have to say no, but in the end, Charlie chose a little British flag and Jimmy chose a tiny leopard figurine. Phew.

Rule, Britannia!

Jimmy lost his beloved Baby Cheetah our first day here. When he saw the cheetah figurines he held one to his chest for a bit, then settled on a leopard. I think it was his way of moving on, just a little.

The beautiful weather continued, so we spent the next two days in the parks close to home. After our thousand dollar quiche day, I planned to leave my wallet at home for a while. It was so hard to pass the tea stands! Walking outside is so much nicer with a warm cup of caffeine in my hands.

The lovely Kensington Gardens

As I've mentioned before, the playground at Kensington Gardens (the Peter Pan playground) is absolutely amazing. It's our go-to plan for sunny days. This time I was sure to keep an eye out for any little Cockney bullies.

Seriously, wouldn't you love to play here?

The next day we went back to Holland Park to work on a new fort. I'm far from a tomboy, but I think I missed out big time on this whole fort thing. It's so much fun! The only bad part is sitting in the fort once it's finished. It's less comfortable to hang out in a fort than you might think.

Forget the fort! This was much better for a picnic

Quiz: Are the children preparing for a) a game of chess b) a game of checkers or c) a battle with chess-themed weapons?

By Friday we were as relaxed as we were going to get (not very) so it was time for another busy day. We took a long and crowded tube ride to the Tower Bridge.

We're getting better at the self-timer!

Proof that I was too tired to parent responsibly anymore

The bridge was stunning, but unfortunately it was the setting for an embarrassing and stressful toddler-drama. Just after I splurged on tickets to walk the upper platform, the kids started falling apart. More than one person said "looks like you have your hands full" as they quickly scooted past us. I was already sweating from chasing Jimmy through the crowds of tourists when Charlie said he needed to use the potty. I looked over my shoulder and considered wading back through the winding line when the elevator attendant in front of us broke the news that the closest bathroom was at the top of the bridge. Charlie looked panicked. I didn't tell him I'd forgotten a change of pants that morning. At last we boarded the elevator with about a million senior citizens. Poor Charlie hopped around and crossed his legs and finally cried "Oh, I wish I weren't even alive!"

When we reached the top we discovered that the nearest potty was actually two flights of stairs back down, so I had to carry the stroller, with Jimmy in it, as Charlie rushed ahead of us. Miraculously, we made it, but we spent nearly 10 minutes sitting on the floor of the bathroom, blotting sweat and catching our breath. We finally climbed back to the upper platform and the boys went bonkers, climbing the display and trying to run back the wrong way.

Just as we got to the end of the upper level and were ready to go into the final display room, Charlie tugged on my sleeve and whispered that he needed to go potty again. Back through the hallway, back down the stairs, and back into the tiny, hot, bathroom we went. This time it took a little longer, and Jimmy passed the time by shouting happily and trying to unroll the toilet paper. Suddenly, Jimmy spied the emergency cord and before I could tackle him he gave it a confident tug. The lights started flashing and an alarm started beeping, and poor Charlie, who is extremely modest and private, realized we'd be getting visitors soon. "Mom! Are fire men coming in here?!? Please, please, block the door!" he cried. Charlie sat on the potty with his head buried in his hands and I had to turn each of the well-meaning attendants away while the first one searched for the off switch. Charlie was thouroughly traumatized and we decided to leave the Tower Bridge through the back door.

I felt badly about our day, so I suggested we take a boat to Westminster and catch the tube from there. Amazingly, the boat ride went smoothly and the kids loved seeing Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, and lots of ships.

Friday's outing reiterated a lesson I've learned many times as a mom: I have no ability to predict which activities are going to be enjoyable and which ones are going to end in disaster.

Most days I struggle with finding an activity to keep us busy after quiet time but before Bill comes home. We've tried feeding the geese...

Which was fun at first, but quickly became overwhelming. We ran away.

We've tried taking walks. But I always end up giving Charlie a piggy back ride, the backpack a piggy front ride, and pushing Jimmy in the stroller. I don't have a picture of this.

We've tried just staying home, but I fear for my sanity when we do this.

The best afternoons of all are when Billy comes home early and takes the boys out alone:

Hurray for daddy!