Friday morning Richard and Gordon went to get our rental car and the rest of us took it easy and watched cartoons in French.  (Kids never mind a language barrier when it comes to television.) 

By the time we had everything situated and hit  the road it was nearly lunch time.  Once we got out of the city, and waited in a ridiculously long toll queue, we stopped for lunch.  At McDonald’s of course.  Isn’t that where you are supposed to eat in France?  Let’s just say we were in a hurry.  But they did have kiosk ordering, which was a huge relief.  (Language barrier.)  We got back on the road and continued our drive through a gorgeous autumn French countryside.  It was so lovely.   It was different than driving through the English countryside, because in England often the trees come right up to the motorway so you can’t see beyond them, or there are tall hedges.  In France there was so much farm land, and hills that you could see all around.  

Our first stop was Omaha Beach, where American troops landed on D-Day.  It was gorgeous at the beach, so warm that people were swimming. It was hallowed ground for sure. In fact, it felt weird to me to see people splashing about, but I don’t think those who lost their lives there would have it any other way.  It was the French people they fought for, and in my short visit I saw many expressions of gratitude from the French people.   In fact, the monument, Les Braves, was commissioned by the French government in 2004 in honor of the Americans who liberated France.  

After spending some time on the beach we walked up the road to a small museum that gave those of us (me) with little WWII knowledge a little background and information.  It also had life-size displays, which gave great visualizations of the events in the area surrounding D-Day.  

After we left the museum we drove over to the American cemetary, but it had barely closed.  So we did a little walking down to another monument, and around the countryside above the beach.  The kids found some old war tunnels and bunkers and played while the adults reflected and admired.  

Despite good efforts, I think each generation beyond the generation most affected by the war, feels it less personally.  Visiting these places with Gordon was a blessing because I can tell that the events of that day, and those years, mean more to him than they do to me. My one hope is that taking the kids to these places will increase the likelihood that they will value and reverence the tragedy that was WWII.  

When it got cool and dark enough we rounded up the kids and loaded up the white van.  It was a drive back to the hotel, which was in a quaint little town.  We checked into our rooms and then ventured back out to find a place to eat and buy an electrical adapter since our little hotel didn’t have one for us to use.  

It took much longer than it should have to find a place to eat because we were trying to conserve Gordon’s iPhone battery.  We knew we would be literally lost without the iPhone.  Which we were, later.  But we found a tasty Italian place and I told Richard when we went in that I had a good feeling about it.  Which turned out to be legit, the food was really good.  But I did find myself wishing I had ordered what Richard ordered.  (That seems to happen a lot…) 

We didn’t have any luck finding a place to buy an electrical adapter so we were once again trying to conserve iPhone battery.  This meant that I made a bad judgment call as primary navigator to the driver, against the driver’s better judgment, which resulted in a really long detour.  And it was late and we were all tired.  Thankfully no one heckled me about it and eventually we made it back to the hotel, safe and exhausted.  

After leaving Notre Dame we walked down to the  Seine, hoping to catch a river tour.  We didn’t have any luck finding the right departure docks at the right time, so we just walked along the river banks for awhile.  The Banks of the Seine are actually a UNESCO World Heritage Landmark under the following criteria: 
i – to represent a masterpiece of human creative genius;
ii – to exhibit an important interchange of human values, over a span of time or within a cultural area of the world, on developments in architecture or technology, monumental arts, town-planning or landscape design;
iv – to be an outstanding example of a type of building, architectural or technological ensemble or landscape which illustrates (a) significant stage(s) in human history;

The walkway next to the river goes on and on for miles, and it’s all cobblestone and clean and tidy.  There were amorous couples on benches along the way, and people strolling with their dogs.  It was quite serene and lovely. 

On our walk we came across this bridge.  I had wanted to see this, but didn’t think it was worth going out of our way for, so it was a pleasant surprise to stumble upon it.  Then- to my amazement I learned that there are ELEVEN bridges like this over the Seine. AND they have only become popular in the last 6-8 years, after the tradition migrated from Italy and Asia. 

Eventually when it started to get dark we decided we better move on to the Arc de Triomphe.  We timed it well, unintentionally, and we got to see the Arc right at dusk, meaning we saw it in daylight and darkness.  And the Arc, of course, was so much bigger than I imagined.  

There is plenty of history about the arch, which was commissioned by Napoleon in 1808.   It is at the center of “a dodecagonal configuration of twelve radiating avenues” which was quite a site to behold.  In London it is really hard to find any street that runs directly in any one direction for more than a few hundred yards, so it was really fun to look down the long avenues leaving the arc in 12 different directions.   It is more or less the most massive and complicated round-a-bout ever.  From where Cameron and Eli are standing in the picture, you have to go underground to get to the arch.  You walk through a tunnel and then come up steps on the other side of the road, right beneath the arch.  

A couple days later as we were returning from Normandy Richard had to drive through the round-a-bout to get to the Gare du Nord.  I’m sure he’ll never forget that… 

From the Arc de Triomphe we took the kids back to the Eiffel Tower for more crepes, (that was our leverage all day) and so they could see it sparkle at night.  

Periodically throughout the trip Richard or I would ask the kids what their favorite parts were.  Eating crepes by the Eiffel Tower took the cake, but as a funny side story, earlier that day the following conversation happened.  (At the playground while I was in Notre Dame.)

Richard: What is your favorite thing about Paris Mim?
Mim: Sitting in the stroller and making friends.  I just said “Bon Jo” to that lady over there. 

It’s just so Mim.  Introducing herself wherever we go and always on the look-out for a friend.  

As a last hoorah we let the kids ride the carousel in front of the Eiffel Tower.  A lovely capstone to our Paris adventures. 

Last night I couldn’t sleep as my brain ran circles about Ferguson.  I wanted to write my thoughts here, but I felt inadequate. I’m not a good enough writer.  I’m not qualified.  I have little knowledge about the subject.  It is terrifying to put one’s feelings about something so controversial out there.  All of those things are true, but as I told Richard last night, I wish more people would start these conversations.  So why not me? 

For the last few weeks Miriam has been lashing out at her brothers randomly and unprovoked.  A shove here, a smack there.  The boys have been confused and annoyed and I have tried every consequence I can think of to make her stop this behavior.  And then it occurred to me to ask this question.  

Why is she doing this? 

I’m not here to offer an opinion about the decision of the grand jury, or to make speculations about the character and intents of Michael Brown and Darren Wilson. I’m just here asking that question. 

Why do these things happen?  Why do black teenagers get shot? Why do they shoot each other? Why do people riot and loot- only creating more victims? Why is there so much anger? 

As a parent I feel responsible for asking the right questions.  I could go on forever thrusting punishments on Mim with little success. But getting to the bottom of her feelings gives me new understanding about why she is being the way she is. It also means that I have to take some ownership if I have fallen short.  In Mim’s case I think her behavior was the product of feeling unnoticed, lonely and different. (Being a girl, with three brothers.) 

As a society it is our responsibility to ask the right questions.  Are we willing to take any ownership? Are there things as a society that we are doing, that we shouldn’t be? Or things we should be doing that we are not?  The way I see it, there are always opportunities to hear more voices, opportunities to seek more understanding and opportunities to offer more compassion.  Ferguson seems just like such an opportunity. 

I grew up in a comfortable, white, middle class American neighborhood.  My entire life I have always believed that the police force was there to protect me.  But suppose I was black, and I was raised by parents who were products of the deep south 1960’s where at best, law enforcement turned a blind eye and at worst were the perpetrators of horrible violence and cruelty.  Wouldn’t that change the way I feel about police officers? How could it not? 

Miriam’s feelings of being unnoticed or unloved are not necessarily reality. They are nonetheless very real to her.  It would be cold and insensitive of me to dismiss them for being ridiculous.   Of course you are valued! Haven’t I done enough to show you that?  Quit acting so neglected and get over it!  

Her feelings are real enough to be the roots of bad behavior.  When I finally figured that out, with a lot of observation and conversation with her, I could see where I had fallen short as a mother and where I could show up in more meaningful ways for her.  

I might be grossly over-simplifying this with my mother-daughter analogy.  But all I’m asking is that we step outside of our paradigm to consider why these things are happening, why these people feel this way, why WE feel the way we do, and then ask ourselves as a society  if, rather, how we can do better.  

On Thursday morning I woke up, showered and dressed and went for a walk alone.  It’s the Tony Hall in me I suppose but I love walking in new places.  I stopped at a patisserie and grabbed some things for breakfast.  The two women there didn’t speak much English and I speak no French, but they were kind and we laughed and pointed and I tried not to buy every single pastry.  I didn’t take pictures at this shop, but I did later on.  

Flowers, motorcycles and bakeries seemed to be the essence of Paris. 

I went back to the hotel, reunited with the gang and off we went on the Metro. First stop- the Louvre!

I always thought of the Louvre as a museum, but that hardly seems like an adequate label. It’s more like a fortress and I couldn’t figure out any way to get a picture that included it all.  

The structure of the buildings is in a U-shape, surrounding this courtyard, with the glass pyramid as the centerpiece.  We actually entered the Louvre from the underground because of where we got off the metro.  Our first views were of the inverted pyramid in the shopping area beneath the ground.  

Unfortunately, by the time we bought our tickets, used the loo, waited in line at security, and figured out what we wanted to see the kids attention spans were virtually gone.  

So we did a quick walk through the Italian Art on our way to see the Mona Lisa (which seemed obligatory). 

I’m not sure what the groundwork was for my emotional collapse, but standing in front of this painting I lost it. I just started weeping.  Everyone else had gone ahead to the next gallery and I just had this moment.  I am not an artist or knowledgeable about art or anything like that.  But this painting moved me. I’ll never forget it. 

By the way- the painting is by Fra Angelico (Guido de Pietro) and it was done between 1450 and 1455.  

We worked our way through the Italian Renaissance galleries, which were not only full of amazing paintings, but the building itself is art. 

It’s difficult, nigh impossible, to fully appreciate the Louvre with children, so I’m already planning a trip to Paris without them. Somehow.  Because I know I only dipped a toe in the waters and I’ll be so disappointed if I got that close and couldn’t see more.  

We left the Musee to find a place for lunch and found a really crowded but cozy cafe and ate our little hearts out.  Gordon and Julie decided to go back to the Louvre to see more, and Richard and I wanted to see Notre Dame.  

Richard and I took turns in Notre Dame.  He stayed at a nearby playground with the kids while I went through, and the I took the kids on a hunt for a public toilet while he went through.  

Just like the Eiffel Tower, the cathedral was bigger than I could have imagined it.  Unfortunately we were there too late in the afternoon to go up into the bell towers, they were already closed.  But I walked through through the main level.  I have a friend from Slovenia who is planning a pilgrimage for next summer with her mother.  She asked me if Mormons do pilgrimages and I wasn’t sure how to answer.  In my own life I have traveled with my family to visit places of historical significance in our church, and I have felt the sacred nature of those places.  I suppose that’s about the closest I’ve come to a pilgrimage, aside from periodic visits to LDS temples, where I can worship and feel close to God.  

But it was really neat for me to watch the people enter the Cathedral and see the reverence in their faces.  It was quiet in there, and it was clear that some people were feeling close to God and solemnity for the sanctity of the place.  This moved me as well.  I promise I’m not pregnant but man was I having an emotional day! 

I didn’t take any (except one) pictures inside the cathedral because there was just no way to do it justice and I wanted to just be still and respectful.  There were stained glass windows everywhere, beautiful sculptures and statues and so many candles.  It was gorgeous.  Magnificent.  Peaceful.  

After Richard had his turn to walk through we decided to walk down the river, then on to the Arc de Triomphe.  

I have to say that I was so proud of the kids, and grateful.  It was such a long day and we did so much walking.  They were pleasant and cooperative and I think they even enjoyed/appreciated it all.  

We had to wake up really early on Wednesday morning to catch our train.  We actually had to catch a train to catch our train… 

So we roused and dressed the kids, packed ourselves like mules and walked to the train station.  From there we rode into the city, made a quick transfer on the tube, and then came up above ground again at London St. Pancras International Railway Station, where the Eurostar departs for Paris.  We arrived in time thankfully, but without much to spare.  

The Eurostar blows my mind.  The route is directly from London to Paris via a massive tunnel beneath the English Channel. It travels at 186 mph, making the journey only two hours.   We ate breakfast on the train and arrived at Gare du Nord at 10:30AM. 

Per the suggestion of Tanya I asked Richard if we could get a taxi to the hotel to drop off our luggage, but being the ever frugal husband that he is, we opted for public transport.  I really don’t mind public transport, except when you’re in a country where none of your traveling party is fluent in the language, you have all your luggage, and you have four children who woke up really early, and you don’t know your way around at all.  I think by the time we arrived at the hotel I had Richard convinced a taxi might be a nice idea next time… 

We left our baggage at the hotel and decided to find a place to eat.  We chose a cafe close by and did our best to order in spite of not understanding the menu at all.  But we had our first French baguette, which Mim devoured, and I think we were all pleased with our food. 

Then we decided to just walk toward the Eiffel Tower. 

The kids found a park so Gordon and Julie offered to sit for a minute and keep an eye on them and Richard and I walked closer to the Eiffel Tower.  We had tried to book tickets online in advance to take a lift to the top, but it was all booked and we had heard that the lines were awful so we weren’t expecting to be able to do that.  But as we walked around beneath it, I told Richard I would get in line and he could go back and get his parents and the kids.  When they met back up with me we would see how far I had progressed in the line.  Our plan worked out really well, the met up with me right as I was going through security.  

Everything in Paris was bigger than I expected.  The Eiffel Tower was so huge.  Notre Dame was monumental.  The Arc de Triomphe was massive.  And the Louvre was like an entire city.  More on those later but standing beneath the Eiffel Tower I was just so amazed that something so tall could have been built so long ago.  

The photo below on the left is the view of the Champ de Mars from the first viewing deck, and then the photo on the right is the view of the Champ de Mars from the top. 

After we came down from the tower it was nearly dark and the kids were exhausted and hungry.  We got them some crepes and then loaded everyone up in a taxi and went back to the hotel.  Gordon and Julie offered to stay with the kids so Richard and I could go out to dinner and see more of the city.  

We found a nice place to eat and both tried something new- I wish I’d written down what we ate but of course I can’t remember because it was in French.  But let’s just say the French do four things really well; cheese, bread, potatoes and meat.  And dessert.  What I mean to say is that the French really have mastered the art of cooking. 

After dinner we went back to the Eiffel Tower to watch it sparkle at night.  It was so pretty.  So surreal.  

As usual, with kids it’s hard to ever see and do as much in a day as one might like to in a place like Paris.  But the fact that we consumed baguettes and crepes and went to the top of the EIffel Tower was enough to feel like a success for me.  

I have such a love-hate relationship with family pictures.  I love thinking about and preparing for them, but then I hate them while they are happening, I feel like it’s going ALL WRONG and I get disappointed about my expectations.  But then as soon as they come back to me I love them again- I love what photographers can do.  

Greenwich park is our local park, we love it and it was so beautiful this time of year.  In London you’re never more than a few hours away from rain, so it was pretty muddy and wet and we were filthy by the time we finished.  My hair doesn’t do well in humidity and I wish I’d planned better for that, but for the most part I think my kids are beautiful and my family is lovely. 

Gordon arrived exactly one week after Julie came.  The kids were on half-term holiday all week so on Monday we spent some time in the city together.  

Gordon and Julie and Cam and Eli met up with Richard late in the afternoon to visit the Churchill War Rooms and Museum while I took the littles home,  

On Tuesday Gordon and Julie ventured out to the city without us so I could get everything ready for our trip the next day. 

France!

Last night after all the kids were in bed, Richard and I were engrossed in an episode of Mr. Selfridge when Eli came downstairs to air a grievance.  Richard and I half listened and then told Eli to go back to bed.  

Eli returned a second time, desperately wanting to share the details of his argument with Cameron but I was too interested in Agnes Towler to pay any mind to my son and so I shushed him and threatened consequences if he came down again.  We heard no more from Eli.  But there must have been harsh words spoken, because this morning Eli got out of bed early, before anyone else.  (This is extremely rare for Eli. He is the child we most often have to drag out of bed.)  He wrote this note to Cameron: 

Dear, Cam
I did this to show you that I care about you.  
From Eli

I learned after the fact, that it was Eli’s intention to make amends by serving Cameron breakfast to accompany the note.  But when Cameron woke up, he was apparently so moved by the gesture that together they concocted a plan to serve breakfast to the entire family.  We were all presented with a menu, whereupon we selected our choices- you will note that the items are all “free”, and then our meal was prepared.  

It was one of those moments where my first impulse was to tell the boys that we didn’t have time for their shenanigans, I would make breakfast because I could do it faster and they could execute their plan another day.  But something (perhaps guilt from ignoring Eli the night before?) compelled me otherwise.  It made the morning more stressful, rather than less, but I’m sure you can imagine that I have no regrets.  

You have drive a fair distance out of the city to find a pumpkin patch around here.  We get a veg delivery every other week from an organic farm in the countryside and they have a fall festival that seemed like the perfect break from the city, and gave Julie a chance to see the English countryside.  

There was all sorts of fun to be had.  A live ukulele band, a giant plaster cow that you could milk, a football shoot-out, pumpkin carving, yummy soups and sausages, face painting, kids coloring, worm-digging.  It was on the cold side, so it wasn’t quite the warm fall day I had dreamed of.  But we had a good time and it’s always nice to breath some fresh air. 

Richard and I are quickly learning that these outings always take longer than we think they will.  And that is usually because of traffic.  Driving 40 miles in Idaho would take 35 minutes.  Driving 40 miles in England easily takes two hours.  So it took the better part of our Saturday, but we returned home in time to order Rox Burger and watch the pre-recorded BSU v. BYU game- which was a sweet taste of home and reminded us all of Saturday football parties with the Birds.  

Baca Bird came to visit in October.  It was a sweet reunion! She flew in on a Sunday so we took her up to Greenwich Park. 

The first week she was here the kids were still in school.  So on Monday we took Simon to Canary Wharf and met up with Richard for lunch at Wahaca.  (Mexican street food with a British twist, and sooooo tasty.) 

On Monday night Baca taught our FHE lesson and it was a really memorable experience for the kids.  She shared the story of her upbringing, the difficult moments in her life and how she gained the knowledge and strength she needed to change the course of her life for the better.  It was really powerful.  Well done Baca.  

Tuesday we went shopping on Oxford Street.  It was a little overwhelming, and we were in a bit of a hurry to meet Richard at Kensington Palace, but fortunately Julie got a second chance at Oxford Street with Gordon a week or two later. 

It was hard to really experience Kensington Palace with Simon in tow, and we were on a schedule because we had to be back in time to pick up the kids at school. But we had a fun time soaking up the glamour and glitz and we really liked the Fashion Exhibit, with several of Princess Diana’s old gowns.  

There was also a long hall with benches that had cushions of past and present Royal family members embroidered on them.  (You can see William and Kate in the photo on the right below.) 

Julie and I also did a lot of shopping at the market and shops close by where we live.  She was also able to go to Cameron and Eli’s class assemblies at their school.  Cameron’s class did a performance about the Tudor’s. Eli was a news reporter along with his best buddy Kayden, discussing Guy Fawkes and the foiled Gunpowder Plot.  Total mom fail and I didn’t get any pictures.  


Julie also helped out with my seminary class, babysat so Richard and I could go out, and did a lot of grandchild entertaining.  She got lots of bus-riding experience and walking walking walking.  We went to Borough Market, and ate fish and chips.  And this was all before Gordon came…