We got home really late on Friday night from Richard’s work dinner party so we collapsed in bed.  Just before my eyelids closed I asked Richard if I should set my alarm too, as back-up to his, and he said that was a good idea so I did.  Turns out it was a really good idea because his alarm is only set to go off on weekdays.  The bad part was that I set it for the last possible minute, thinking his would go off first, so we had to scramble.  We hadn’t packed yet because we were so tired the night before so I was just stuffing things in the suitcase.  I had some regrets about what I brought and didn’t bring but oh well! 

We had to leave the house for the airport a little after 6:00AM.  We hoofed it to the station as fast as we could so we wouldn’t miss the train.  There are something like eight airports in London, and I chose the one with the cheapest flight, but it was a pain to get to.  Fortunately Saturdays are pretty quiet that early in the morning.  We grabbed breakfast at the airport once we got there and then just relaxed until we boarded.  Well, if you can call standing for 20 minutes at the gate relaxing… 

The flight was quick, just over an hour and we landed at the Kerry International Airport.  It was the smallest airport I’ve ever been in but it made arrival and departure pretty straightforward.  We picked up our rental car, which was a manual transmission, and off we went.  It all went really well except that we couldn’t figure out how to put the car in reverse.  It was so hilarious. (But not really.)  

At one point we pulled over to the side of the road to try and figure out where we were going.  My cell phone didn’t work at all and Richard’s was on international roaming and we felt totally handicapped without GPS.  Anyway, Richard had pulled into a parking spot at a little park and we seriously could not figure out how to put the car in reverse, so Richard had to open his door and with the car in neutral managed to use his foot to get us backed up enough to turn around. (That part really was hilarious.)

We stopped for lunch at a pub in a little town, I can’t recall the name, but the food was sooo good.  I just had fish and chips and Richard had roast beef with potatoes and gravy, but it was some serious comfort food.  Richard decided to just eat the data charges and Googled how to put the car in reverse.  Thank Heaven for Google.  

After lunch we drove to the town of Annascaul, and checked in at our Bed and Breakfast.  It was small and quaint and the people were polite, but it wasn’t nearly as warm and welcoming as the one we stayed at in Scotland.  

It was a really pretty day- we passed a beach on our way and I wish we would have stopped because the weather was so perfect, but I thought we would have another chance, which we never did.  

We left Annascaul and drove to Dingle.  My friend Suzy had suggested Dingle and it was the destination we were looking for.  So charming and Irish and lovely.  

Trip Advisor has become my go-to source for planning our holidays.  I read on there about two loops that you can drive, one is around the Dingle Peninsula, called Slea Head drive and the other is back near Kerry, called the Ring of Kerry.  The thing about holidays is that it’s this conflict about never planning enough but always planning too much.  The more I learn about a place, the less prepared I feel about visiting it.  It becomes overwhelming. I had a list a mile long of things to see, but once we got there it was complicated and hard to sort out how to see them all.  It’s one thing to read about places to visit and to do all the research about how to fit as much as possible into a day, but then inevitably things come up that look interesting, or are closed, or take longer than planned.  Anyway, there were a couple things we missed because I didn’t know where to find them and I’m sad about that- but all in all I felt really grateful about all we got to do.  

So we left from Dingle and drove the Slea Head loop.  It worked out really well, the timing was nice so that we came around the western side of the peninsula at dusk.  

We stopped at this beach along the drive, which was lovely, but not as nice as Inch Strand, the one we never really made it back to.  

I loved the pattern the water made in the sand as the tide went out.  

As I was thinking about what to write about these Beehive huts that are all over the Western Coast of Ireland, I started thinking about what the ancient Americans lived in around this time.  I was thinking “If they built anything it’s not anywhere to be seen.”  Then all of the sudden I recalled visiting Mesa Verde National Park, just this last January so I did a little research. 

At the same time these beehive huts were being built in Ireland in the 8-12th centuries, ancestral Puebloans were living in cliff dwellings in the western United States.  Richard and I talked a lot while we were in Ireland about how people just make the best use of the resources the land has to offer, but it strikes me now with even more awe about the reality of that concept. 

The Beehive huts were built with rocks, with a geometric design that kept them dry inside because the rain would wash down the outside.  Ireland has rocks everywhere, but not much timber and no canyon walls for cliff dwellings.  They were built before mortar, and yet they have lasted so long.  

There are also rock walls everywhere in Ireland.  Everything is built from rocks, even in the last couple hundred years. 

This spot was believed to be a little settlement, designed either for safety or to keep the animals in.  I just really love things like this, imagining what it was like to live in a place like this.  But just like the park ranger at Mesa Verde pointed out, I’m probably romanticizing it.  

I remember Suzy and Caleb telling us that things in Ireland (and probably elsewhere in Europe) are different than the U.S. in the sense that you are more free to use your best judgement, there aren’t guard rails or fences protecting you from imminent death.  Just plain old common sense.  Which meant that we could climb, walk, explore just about anywhere we wanted to.   (And thankfully we didn’t have kids with us to worry about.)

The roads are so narrow.  Richard and I joked that when planning the roads the engineers said 

“What is the average width of a car?  Alrighty, multiply that by two and that should be adequate!”

When passing other cars you have to slow down, and sort of maneuver your way around, and that’s saying something because the cars are so small.  In this case it was cattle we had to maneuver around.  

The Gallarus Oratory. 

I’ve learned that an Oratory is a small chapel or prayer room, often used by early Christian monks.  This one was discovered in 1756  but believed to have been built between the 9th and 12th century.  It was so amazing.  The stones were all cut perfectly to fit together like a puzzle and we were told that nary a drop of rain gets inside.  It must have taken years to build with the most primitive technology, and it has never been “restored” in modern day.  It stands exactly now as it did 900+ years ago.  You can see the pictures that it sags a bit on the outside walls.  

There was a retired German school teacher there when we approached, and not anther soul in sight.  He wanted to take our picture next to the oratory so that people who saw the photograph could understand the size of it properly.  He was really fun to talk to and he took a picture with my camera for us. 

Ireland was green, no doubt about it, but I was a little disappointed that it wasn’t MORE green.  I think that had a lot to do with the parts of the country we visited and the time of year, I suppose the beginning of September is the driest time, which made for perfect weather for sight seeing.  So I’ll stop complaining now.  

After looking back through my Ireland pictures I’m committed to becoming a better photographer. I know that a picture can never do justice to the scenery, but I know it can do a lot better than I’ve done.  

We finished the loop back in Dingle and then drove back to Annascaul for dinner. We ate at a pub called The South Pole Inn, it was started and run by the famous Tom Crean, an explorer who ventured to the Antarctic and lived to tell about it, miraculously and multiple times! He is the pride and joy of Annascaul and I have to admit I was pretty impressed by his tales.  Sadly, after all he survived in explorations and war, he died of a ruptured appendix in 1938.  

Anyway, the pub was fun and tasty and we were exhausted.  We left the pub before 10:00PM but our fellow guests at the B&B told us that the party really got started at midnight.  Yikes. 

When we first found out about moving to London, my friend Michelle told me that the government sponsors 15 hours a week of free education for three year olds.  Right away I knew it was something I wanted to do for Simon and for me.  The idea of having all four kids in school each week for 15 hours was too hard to resist! But I also knew how much Simon would love it. He is such a social kid, he loves being around other kids and other adults too.  He’s not shy and he’ll make friends with anyone.  Even on the bus or train or at the grocery store,  he will sit by anyone, talk to anyone, shake hands with anyone.  

But then in a later moment of sentimentality I realized that if I sent Simon to school 15 hours a week, that would be 15 hours a week of time I wouldn’t be spending with my littlest dude.  He’s such a fun buddy, and did I really want to miss out on that?  Fortunately that moment of sentimentality was short-lived and I realized that I would still have plenty of time with my little guy and I can’t deny him this opportunity to get British education.  

Oh that kid. 

The Nursery School (American equivalent= Preschool) is part of Lucas Vale for all intents and purposes but also operates in it’s own system as well.  So Simon’s start date was different than Cameron and Eli’s start dates but came before Miriam’s start date.  I still haven’t figured that all out, but I do know that they stagger-start the little kids to avoid having a classroom full of meltdowns for the first week.  

Simon had an induction just like Miriam, where we went to the classroom and he met the teachers and some of the other children.  He loved it, he jumped right in, he was happy.  The plan for starting nursery is that on the first day the parents are allowed to stay for 30 minutes, then they must leave for 30 minutes and then come back and pick up the kid, for a total of one hour of nursery time.  The second day parents can stay for only a few minutes and leave the child for 2 hours, and then by the third day, if the child is adjusting well the parents leave the him/her for the entire three hours.  

Simon was so excited to start school on his first day.  He does this funny thing when he is really excited where he takes deep gasping breaths, and stutters his words.  It’s adorable and hilarious.  He did that the whole way to school, talking about what a big boy he was.  My mom was still here so I left Miriam with her so I could stay in Simon’s class for 30 minutes with him.  But the minute we walked in he ditched his backpack and went on his way, never turning back. Needless to say I didn’t stay for 30 minutes, and he waved to me on my way out.  

Simon has been going to school now for two weeks and he loves it.  His teacher is Miss Ahmed and the other nursery teachers are Miss Julie, Mr. Mickey and Miss Sam.  His friends are Eric and Tolu and he loves the slide and singing songs. He sings his nursery songs all day long to my utter delight.  He hasn’t picked up an accent yet, but once in awhile he will say a word in a purely British way and we will all laugh- which makes him laugh.  Our favorite is when he says “Toe-mah-toes.” 

I knew it was going to be hard to do things without my mom around.  But this last week was harder than I anticipated. And to top it off it, every evening this week had Richard meeting other obligations and me doing dinner and bedtime alone.   

I’ll save the details of my days for another post, but it’s like Glennon says,  a day is a lifetime.  

By Friday evening I was at my wit’s end and when I cracked an egg on the counter to put in the meatballs, the egg smashed all over the counter, cabinet and floor including my foot, and I lost it.  I fell apart.  

Aside from the day I drove Miriam to her induction and got lost on the way, I’ve avoided any major meltdowns in our new home.  But I let it out. I cried into the meatballs until Richard came home and I cried into his suit coat.  (I’m sure mine wasn’t the first runny nose to encounter the shoulder of his jacket.)  

It might not be so bad if all that occupied my mind during the days were the tasks associated with being a mother or even a human being.  But our minds don’t seem to work that way.  It seems that my thoughts are always preoccupied with the latest tragedy in the life of a friend, or the current crises around the world, or my own faith and spirituality.  My mind and spirit feel heavy sometimes with the deeper issues of humanity, and all of the sudden things like three meals a day and baths at bedtime for four little people, feel overwhelming.  

Sometimes I feel guilty for complaining about motherhood, because it seems like whining is a luxury, an expression of first world problems.  Motherhood is hard, absolutely, but it’s not just motherhood that breaks me on Friday evenings. It’s that life is hard.  And even when my life isn’t hard, it’s hard for me to observe other lives that are.  

So my body did what it usually does when I work myself into a dither, and my immune system went on strike resulting in a bad head cold accompanied with body aches.  Richard took the kids to church and I’ve just nestled myself under the covers, enjoying the sunshine coming through the window and listening to church bells and chatter outside. I feel grateful for a chance to slow down.  As cliche as it sounds – just to be alive is a grand thing.  

One morning after dropping Cameron and Eli off at school my mom and I took the train to London Bridge and walked to Borough Market.  A few people had suggested it and they both said to go hungry.  

We got there fairly early so all the vendors weren’t up and running yet but we perused and sampled and tried a few things.  Some bread, some macarons, some cheeses.  The kids had some fruit too and I had a slow roasted salted pork sandwich with mustard that wasn’t like any mustard I’d ever had.  It all looked and smelled so good. Okay there were some things that didn’t look good, but to each her own…

After we left the market we realized Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre wasn’t too far away so we decided to walk to see it. Along the way we came upon a full-sized reconstruction of the Golden Hinde- the ship that Sir Frances Drake used to sail around the globe from 1577-80.  

“The vast treasures he brought back, taken from the Spanish, wrote off the English national debt and made Drake one of the richest men in England.”   No wonder the Queen knighted him.  

Last Christmas we knew about our plans to move to London so we bought each of the kids a British-related Christmas gift.  We bought Simon a Paddington bear and a few of the Paddington books.  He loves them, and so when we saw this Paddington book bench he lit up like a flashlight.  

We had a really nice walk along the Thames to get to the theatre and we passed this quote.  I’ve never seen a river in a city that had anything besides mucky, muddy brown water, but I still love the Thames and the dozens of bridges that cross her.  And I maintain that peace can be found on the banks of even muddy and mucky rivers.  

On our walk we also passed “The Clink” dungeon prison.  I’ve never heard someone refer to a prison as a clink, but my mom says her parent’s used to call it that all the time.  Well this is the original Clink- and I read just enough about it to be pretty sure I don’t need to come back and tour it.  (More torture and such. Those medievals I tell you were a cruel lot.)

This is the reconstructed Shakespeare Globe Theatre.  (The original was burned down and then after being rebuilt was later destroyed again during the Civil War in 1644.)   We didn’t have the time or the attention span of Mim and Simon to take a tour but my mom looked around a bit while the kids and I walked by the river.  

Then we walked back to the train station and bought some drinks for a relaxing ride back to Lewisham.  Both my mom and I were amazed at all the things you can find in London without even looking.  

My mom and I really wanted to visit Windsor Castle but after looking a dozen diffferent train routes and bus/train combos we couldn’t find anything that was an easy trip.  Train transfers are hard with kids, and we knew we would be doing a lot of walking at the castle and didn’t want to drag the stroller around etc.  So I decided I would attempt to drive there- buckle up the littles and just sit our behinds in one seat the whole way.  (These are the things I took for granted in the States.) We studied the maps, my mom wrote out the directions in case my phone died or Siri failed us and we did it! We made it all the way to Windsor without getting lost, and just a had a little trouble finding the castle and parking.  In fact it was a really fun drive through the southwest parts of the city and along the Thames.  

We got there just in time to watch the procession of Her Majesty’s royal band marching into the castle for the changing of the guard.   

Queen Elizabeth spends weekends and some holidays at Windsor Castle, and it is also used for state events and special occasions.  One of the wardens told us that when she comes she rides her horse around the golf course every day, rain or shine and she refuses to wear a helmet.  

It’s in such a beautiful place.  At the back of the castle grounds is the town of Windsor, and on the Northwest it faces the countryside with beautiful views and gardens.  WIndsor Castle is the longest occupied castle in Europe and currently over 500 people live and/or work there.  

Photography wasn’t allowed in the State Rooms- which can’t adequately be described but I will quote art historian Hugh Roberts-  “a superb and unrivalled sequence of rooms”. 

They were quite stunning, if you can get past the tremendous amount of wealth and resources that a practical brain like mine would prefer be spent in other ways.  Richard and I have talked often about royalty, and how we as Americans just can’t seem to get our heads around it.  The “American way” is to work hard and earn your success, and the idea of living somewhere like Windsor Castle just because of the family you were born into is just outside my cultural comfort zone.  But I do enjoy seeing castles and I do appreciate that they are open to the public to appreciate the artistry and architecture and design.  

We also got the see Queen Mary’s doll house.  The doll house took up an entire room, and was equipped with actual electricity and running water.  It was exactly the kind of thing I dreamed of as a little girl and I can’t imagine the hours and hours of joy it must have offered.  Also on display were France and Marianne, two dolls that were a gift from the French government to Princess Elizabeth and her sister Margaret Rose.  The collection included an extensive wardrobe of clothing and accessories from famous French designers of the time.  Those dolls had more clothes and shoes and ribbons than I do.  

It was such a lovely day and we had a wonderful time at the castle.  After we left the castle grounds we did a little shopping and ice cream eating in the town of Windsor before tackling the drive home.  Things didn’t go quite so smoothly on our way back, but not because of driver error. The traffic was horrendous and fortunately Richard had planned to leave work early to pick up the boys from school in case we weren’t home in time.  And when you are stuck in stand-still traffic in a city like London it affords ample opportunity for people watching, which my mom and I did to our occasional great amusement.   Making the drive there or back was a good confidence booster for me behind the wheel, it was my first driving experience outside of Lewisham and I consider it a success!

On Friday night my mom offered to watch the kids so Richard and I could go out, we decided to go check out the Tall Ships Festival in Greenwich.  It was fun, with all kinds of festival-ish things like buskars and fried food.  We also walked through Greenwich Market, which I’ve been wanting to do for awhile.  Usually the markets are all closed down by 6:00 in the evening but they stayed open late for the festival.  

I didn’t take any pictures of the books at the market but there was a woman selling these origami books (I found this picture online).  They were so neat! We talked to her for a bit and she told us about how part of her art is finding a books that are well made and well written, quality product and content.  She also doesn’t cut any pages, in case you want to read the book at any point.  

It’s always so hard to choose what to eat at a London market.  I finally settled on these mini-pancakes, which reminded me of aebiskivers actually.  I chose toffee topping with chopped nuts. MMMMMM.  

There were a lot of things I wanted to take pictures of but I didn’t have my camera but I couldn’t resist this one- Richard and I were cracking up. 

On Saturday our friend Jeremy from back home flew in so Richard left to spend the day with him, and my mom and I took the kids back to the Tall Ships Festival.  

I really couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about this giant pool of water with miniature sailboats in it, but the kids loved it.  They just stood there at the edge for the longest time, trying to catch the boats and then send them back out to “sea.”

Eli loves magic tricks, he is always making up his own magic tricks, so when I saw this sailor doing tricks I pulled Eli away from the mini sailboats.  The guy did this really cool trick with some magic red balls that looked like clown noses.  They just kept multiplying and multiplying.  The sailor handed the first ball to Eli and told him to squeeze his hand really hard, so he did and when he opened it there were two balls.  I wish I could have capture the look of delight and astonishment on his face when he opened his fist.  It made my day.  The trick went on and on until there were 9 balls, and when the last person squeezed them all together and opened their hands, out came 9 small balls and one large ball.  It blew my mind.  And Eli’s too.  There was a woman literally begging the sailor to tell her how he did it.  

There really weren’t too many tall ships to see, they were docked at wharfs throughout the city and not just in Greenwich, but there were a lot of other fun things going on.  Including these giant scorpion crabs, that from a distance the kids all loved.  But then the guy who was steering the crab turned it right toward us and pretended it was going to “get” us.  SImon lost it- he burst into tears, uncontrollable sobs of fear. I felt so badly for him but I couldn’t stop laughing either.  I had to get him away as fast as possible though, and then later when there was a close encounter he shrieked in fear again.  When he told Richard about it he didn’t act scared at all, he just said matter-of-factly that there were giant crabs and we had to protect ourselves from them. (In Simons words of course.) 

We met up with Richard and Jeremy for dinner at Goddard’s and the kids just warmed right up to Jeremy.  The Tuckers are such good friends of ours, and I think Simon and Miriam in particular were just so thrilled to have this visitor from back home.  

After dinner we walked back along the pier and saw a few more ships before calling it a night and heading back home.  

Once Cameron and Eli started school we had just Mim and Simon to entertain so we took them to a park they have been to a couple times but I’ve never been.  It is a quick trip on the DLR and so we packed a lunch and got on the train right after we dropped the boys off at school.  

Mudchute is a little (if you can call 32 acres little) countryside gem in the heart of East London.  It’s a working farm with stables and all sorts of fun farm animals.  All the sheep and horses we saw (and smelled…) were a nice throwback to our home in Kuna.  

One of the wonderful things about London is that wherever we go we usually get more than we bargained for.  We’ll be exploring a park and find something we never expected, or when walking through the city I’ll turn a corner and there will be some historical home or exciting landmark that I wasn’t looking for at all.  

In Mudchute we found that there are several gun emplacements left over from WWII.  Many of London’s parks were used for anti-aircraft defense during the war, and Mudchute has converted most them into stalls for the farm animals, but this one was let as an exhibit.  

The gun is set down beneath ground level and is surrounded by concrete bunkers, where they stored the ammunition.  Most of the guns were operated by remote control, but this unit was run by Captain Fletcher, who won a medal for bravery, the only medal won by someone on British soil.  The remote control capabilities broke down after the area was damaged by land mines, but Captain Fletcher took his men to the guns and operated them manually, at great risk.  

As we made our way back to the DLR station we stopped at various playgrounds along the way.  We never found the one I was looking for because someone had an accident in their pants which required some creative and public clean-up and ended our fun adventure for the day.  

The other day was one of those “life in the city” days that wipes me out, but ultimately can give me a good laugh by the time I kick my feet up when it’s over…

It began with our usual walk to the bus stop in the morning, it was my last morning with my mom here so I left Mim with her and took the boys.  We have to cross three streets to get to the bus stop, and they get progressively busier, the first one is in our neighborhood, the second one gets us to the main road, and then we have to cross the main road- which is the only crossing with a crosswalk light.  The traffic is really busy in the mornings (which is the number one reason I don’t drive the kids to school.)  So we got across the first street fine, but I made the mistake of crossing the second street close to the corner, and I had my eyes totally fixed on cars coming the other direction.  We crossed the first lane, and then right in front of me a car whizzed by, inches from my toes and Simon, who was holding my right hand. Cameron and Eli were thankfully behind me but it shook me up and my heart raced the rest of the way to school.  

Later that morning my mom was gone for a walk so I took Mim with me in the car to go pick up Simon from school.  The way I usually go out of my neighborhood was blocked by police cars, they were everywhere- there must have been a dozen police cars.  I picked up Simon and drove home and they were all still there.  After my mom got home I left the littles with her to go to the GP practice to turn in our NHS paperwork.  It’s really close so I just walked, and decided to walk past the street where the police cars had been to see what was going on.  Most of the police cars were gone but there were still a few there, and several police officers lingering about.  Then all of the sudden a man, a kid really, comes out of nowhere, sprinting down the sidewalk directly toward me.  Police start chasing him and sirens start blaring and he does the classic knock-over-garbage-cans to obstruct their path, which actually worked, just like in the movies.   He literally runs right past me, followed by the officers who almost knock me over and off they go.  Two police cars come screeching in front of the guy, but he jumps over and around them, just like in the movies, and then he’s gone, leaving the officers panting and gasping in the street and a few bystanders shocked and some are even laughing.  I felt a twinge of regret that I hadn’t had the presence of mind to be the hero and trip the guy, but then he probably would have made orders from his prison cell to have his gang hunt me down and kidnap my children and I would have to hire a P.I. and go into the witness protection program.  

Or at least those are the things I thought about as I kept on walking toward the Dr. office, my heart racing for the second time that day.

In the afternoon my mom and I were going to take the bus together to pick up the boys from school but she realized her Oyster card was empty so she decided to walk up to the school and meet us there so she could sit with the kids while I went to Eli’s “target setting” with his teacher.  My Oyster card was almost empty too so I knew we would have to walk home so I put Simon in the stroller and Mim walked with me.  In the afternoon when we take the bus there are always a dozen older kids getting off at the stop where we get on.  They must get out of school earlier.  Anyway, as I’m getting on the bus with Mim and the stroller, and all those teenagers are getting off, an older business man gets caught in the mess, and I accidentally cut him off with the stroller, making it so he can’t get to the bus doors, and they close.  To make matters worse the next bus stop is closed and so he had to go pretty far out of his way.  He wasn’t rude at all but I felt terrible.  

The rest of the day went fine and after the kids were in bed my mom and I were enjoying a quiet evening when Richard came home from work late.  He had shock and bewilderment on his face and proceeded to tell us the following story:

“As I was getting off the train I found myself walking behind a woman in work-out clothes who was really booking it down the sidewalk.  She was walking really fast in front of me and turned down our street and then just disappeared.  As I walked up to our doorstep, there she was, squatting between two cars and peeing in the street, right in front of our house!”

Sometimes I just don’t know about this crazy city we live in… it’s a long way from Kuna Idaho, I can tell ya that much.  

Cameron and Eli started school on Wednesday September 3rd.  I can’t believe it’s been almost three weeks! The night before school started I was so nervous, and in the morning it was even worse.  I’ve never been an emotional mum when it comes to my kids going to school. I take that back, I get emotional, the emotions are just excitement and gratitude. But this time around I had so much apprehension, the school environment here is so culturally different and they didn’t know a single soul on their first day.  

(Fortunately we ran into some friends we’d met with Nicole, Charlotte and her son Xavien, and that helped me feel a little more at ease.) 

We ate breakfast, and fortunately my mom was still here so Richard and I left the littles with her so we could ride the bus up to the school with just Cam and Eli.  We left with plenty of time, which was a good thing because we got a little mixed up about which bus stop we needed, and then the one we chose was closed so we had to back track a bit.  But we caught the bus and rode it up. 

When I refer to the bus here I’m not talking about a school bus, there are no school buses here.  To get to the school we ride a public bus, the red double-decker ones you think of when you think of London.  Because it’s a public bus Cameron and Eli aren’t quite old enough to ride alone so I ride the bus to school with the kids every day, and then we either take the bus home or walk home. It’s about a 10 minute bus ride to the school and a 25 minute walk home.  But school transportation deserves a post of its own…

Schools are so different here in that you don’t automatically go to the school that is closest to you.  So every day on our way to school we pass kids going in the opposite direction to three or four different schools.  I can recognize the uniforms now of Morden Mount, Grinlin Gibbons, Ashmead and St. Matthew Academy (my favorite- they are so smart looking!). But on the bus on the first day there were a few other kids going to Lucas Vale and Cameron and one boy made eye contact and gave each other a shy nod.  

We walked to the school and found the boys’ teachers, Miss Mustafa for Cameron and Mrs. Hassan for Eli.  This is when I got emotional- Mrs. Hassan has to be the kindest teacher I’ve ever met.  She took one look at Eli and his timid nature, and “got it.”  She paired him up with a little Chinese boy named Kaden, who has been his buddy ever since.  She tells me now that they are two peas in a pod.   It was such a big deal to me that it was someone Eli’s size, literally.  Both of the boys’ teachers, and really everyone we met, were so kind and went out of their way to make us feel welcome.  

I almost started crying, a little bit from nerves I think and a little bit from gratitude.  Cameron took the bull by the horns and really jumped in with both feet.  He’s brave and sociable and quick to make friends.  And I could take comfort in knowing that Eli’s teacher was 100% committed to making his transition as comfortable as possible.  

We watched them go into their classes and then we took the bus home and I waited in great anticipation for the day to pass.  

I hope I never forget Eli’s enthusiasm when my mom and I showed up at the end of the day to pick them up from school.  Both he and Cameron couldn’t stop talking.  Eli was thrilled with the international make-up of his class 

“Mom! My teacher is from Turkey, I mean actually Cyprus, and there are there is a kid from Albania and Cameroon and Singapore!”

And Cameron was an automatic celebrity because the school Headmaster made a point of introducing him at the welcome assembly, and telling all the children to ask to hear his accent.  Nothing could delight Cameron more than being the center of attention.  

On Thursday and Friday of this last week I had “Target Setting” appointments with each of their teachers.  It’s similar to a parent teacher conference but instead of the focus being on progress it’s on setting goals.  But it was nice to hear from their teachers how they were adjusting.  

Cameron’s teacher is young and fun and perfect for his personality.  She had great things to say about him and his schoolwork.  Both Cameron and Eli just need to work on “connectives” which are like cursive writing I guess.  They do all their writing this way, so no more printing for these two.  

Eli’s teacher is seriously an answer to prayers. She has personally been aware of him and his needs.  She has let him eat lunch with her and has spent time on the playground trying to help him integrate.  On the day of our meeting she said that she had heard him laughing for the first time in class and it warmed her heart.  She considered that his biggest success so far.   I didn’t know from anything Eli had said that he wasn’t quite fitting in socially, but I don’t think he was miserable at school either.  He is just quiet and deliberate and cautious.  It took him awhile to make friends and learn the names of the other kids.  But the idea of him wandering around on the playground alone kind of broke my heart, so I’m really grateful to hear that he is finally interacting and getting involved.  Today he made me a loom band bracelet that was a new pattern that he told me Kaden had taught him, and I was so excited for him.  Mrs. Hassan also said that the kids are as interested in Eli as they are in Cameron, but Eli isn’t quite as open and friendly with them as Cameron is.  Which is just Eli and he will make friends on his terms, for better or worse.  

I really love the school where the kids go.  It’s a melting pot in the truest sense of the phrase and even if Simon and Miriam don’t remember specifics of the school after we move away, I think the diversity will help influence their character and view of the world and it just makes me feel really blessed and grateful.  

We had thrown around some ideas for the second Saturday during my parent’s visit, but logistics for the eight of us are tricky and nothing really worked out.  When I realized we had no real plans I capitalized on the opportunity to be a tourist sans children.  So Saturday morning my parents and I left Richard at home with the kids and a long housekeeping list, and rode the train into the city.  

It was so lovely wandering through the city with my parents.  It was a perfect day, not too hot, not too cool, although I dressed a little too warm.  My dad loves to walk, LOVES to walk, so we just walked.  We walked through Trafalgar Square and through Soho and Chinatown and Covent Garden and Picadilly Circus and all the way back to Buckingham Palace.  

I really loved wandering through the streets of Soho.  We just walked up and down streets that were busy with the lives of the locals.  There weren’t tourist shops or anything particularly famous, just London life for the Bohemian Soho residents.  It felt so authentic and hip.  Although I’m sure we stuck out like a sore thumb

After Covent Garden we split up and my dad went off to do more walking while my mom and I headed toward the Benjamin Franklin house.  Unfortunately we had just missed a tour so we walked down to Buckingham Palace and then caught a train home to rescue Richard from domesticity.  

It was such a lovely day.  Now I just need more visitors! Consider yourself invited!