Feathered Breakfast

Please note the horizontal and vertical stripes. We're trying to stun the swans into submission with our avant-guarde fashion sense.

Charlotte's 3rd Birthday Party

We had barely touched our feet to English soil when we were introduced to Michelle and Alex Robson, whose son Kai attends nursery with Charlotte. Sensing our tentative grip on the landscape, they very very very kindly offered to host with us a joint birthday party (Kai and Charlotte are but two weeks apart in age).

The party itself fell on Charlotte's birthday, Oct. 9, when we and the Robsons and all of the kids' nursery playmates, gathered at the Grantchester mini railway, which is set in a park, for lunch, cake and a few chugs around the track.

Lucile gives our pinata a whack.

Heloise hits the jackpot.

Heaven!

Despite all predictions, the weather held beautifully and the kids, bless them, had a jolly time. Harry, of course, was keen on riding the train, which circled the woods, while Charlotte was mostly preoccupied with her cake, a testament to all things American and Barbie and pink. I'm pretty sure the mere existence of said cake has branded me an audacious mother from the States. But she just loved it and that's all that matters (to this audacious mother from the States).

Before the afternoon was over, we played pass-the-parcel (a UK favorite) and showed our wee little friends how to whack a pinata, the concept of which is foreign to most of our new pals, both young and adult. In fact, I was approached after-the-fact by a photographer from the Cambridge News asking me what in the blazes we'd been doing. "Is that called 'beat the bug?'" he wondered at our tattered butterfly. He took photos and perhaps they'll make the paper.

It's particularly during occasions like this that we miss our friends back home, but we feel ever so lucky to have wonderful playmates from school help us fill the big void.  Our big thanks go out to grandma, who offered the children face painting (Charlotte, when you ask years from now, you painted your OWN face), and the Robsons, whose suggestion of the mini railway was nothing short of brilliant.

Happy Birthday Charlotte! It was definitely one for the record books.

Our offering to the weather gods.

Kai and Charlotte, who is pouring on the charm for his benefit.

I could write an entire post on how to CUT a Barbie cake.

A Perfect Pink Surprise

Charlotte had but one wish for her third birthday, she wanted it to be pink. So, as she slept, Paul and I festooned the dining room: bunting, balloons and too many gifts wrapped in all manner of pink polka dots and stripes. After breakfast, I casually suggested she take a look in the dining room. Her surprise gave us such a thrill.

We spent the morning playing with new treasures - an incredible American Girl doll from Aunty Skippy, new ballet togs from Aunty Jess, a beautiful jewelry box from Aunty Julie, a Cinderella doll from Zaza and a dollhouse from mum and dad. 

My precious girl - dramatic to the core, emotional, loving beyond measure, charming, headstrong, brave, willful and princess soft - is growing so fast. Happy Birthday baby, we love you so much. I just can't wait to see what the next year holds.

Love you Cindy

Wynonna rides again

Harry lends a hand

Daaaaahling, these jewels are faaaaabulous.

The City of Light

With Julie on the streets of Paris.

When we left for England I periodically gushed, I'm sure to the great annoyance of my friends, that I'd soon be doing 'girls' nights out' in Paris. Last week I had a chance to make good on that brag/dream/hope courtesy my friend Julie and her positively amazing birthday present for her friend Trish: A surprise trip to Paris. Trish thought she was headed on a weekend with her husband and toddler daughter but instead was met by Julie at the airport, handed a passport by her husband Bill, and off they flew. I met them in Paris shortly after they landed and the three of us set off on a short, but robust adventure that took us around the city: window shopping, wine, some great food and a few precious hours of sleeping sans bebes.

But the highlight of the trip was our bicycle tour of Versailles (Julie will agree this is a bold statement for me, not the greatest lover of biking when peddling uphill, delightfully though, Versailles is flat as a pancake). We hooked-up with Fat Tire Tours and spent the afternoon peddling about seven miles of the grounds where we had a picnic of cheese and wine (very hard work) and then went inside the home of Marie Antoinette (oh, and a few Kings I care not about): 700 rooms, each one is more spectacularly gilded and over-the-top than the next. 

Trish and Julie, biking the grounds of Versailles.

The birthday girl with her bread and wine, a perfect lunch.

Our picnic, honestly the creamiest brie I have ever eaten. It sort of just exploded when we opened the wrapper.

Our tour group. Each bike had a clever name. Mine was "XOXOX Gossip Girl."

Proof for my son that mom rides a bike too.

The hall of mirrors, the most famous room inside the chateau.

Our guide Brian said that 50 percent of France's taxes were used (for 50 years!) to build the Chateau de Versailles.

A pretty typical room inside the chatteau.

I am super thankful to Julie (and Trish!) for letting me muscle-in on the very special trip. And I renew my invitation to my gal-pals in the states - Girls Weekend in Paris 2012! Let me know if you're interested.

Glass Slipper Girl

Her Highness, Princess Charlotte of Cambridge.

Nothing but Cinderella joy.

With grandma leaving us in just a week, our Halloween costume efforts have entered high-gear (I am merely the apprentice on this Cinderella creation and not to be trusted solo, I assure you).

Charlotte got her first fitting this morning, as the zipper was pinned in and the hem was considered (we took our questions about hemming satin to our friends at the John Lewis haberdashery who were most helpful.)

Eliza pins the hem.

You see, Eliza doesn't just sew from a pattern, she IMPROVES everything. No child of mine, she has made it crystal clear, will be wearing a costume with unfinished edges scratching her tender skin, so we have basted until our fingers ached and threaded tiny needles that neither of us can competently see, until VOILA!, we have an almost finished satin and sparkling organza gown, which is truly nicer than anything in my UK wardrobe. You will not be surprised to hear that Charlotte was most cross when asked to take it off. MOST CROSS.

Painting Alfresco

We've discovered a fine use for our backyard fence...that of an easel. The weather has been SO ridiculously glorious for the last two weeks, we tried to spend most of yesterday outside, the paint came with us.

'You Will Be Assimilated'

So hot today, they both wanted a ride.

We're seeing changes in the kids, choice bits and phrases that pop out of their mouths. It is a source of great amusement for Paul and me.

Me: Harry would you like to take off your sweatshirt?
Harry: No mommy, I'll just take off my jumper.

Me: Harry would you like a take a turn with the toy?
Harry: OK, I think I'll have a go.

Americans say "pee" and "potty"....here it is "wee" and "toilet," both of which the kids now use (While the BRITS loathe the term 'bathroom' and NEVER use it, I'm so programmed, I get tongue-tied asking for the loo, never sure what to say. Usually, I just mumble.