We made it back to the village on Tuesday after a pretty intense 20 hour transatlantic slog. It was much easier this time since I had the Agent with me to help, but I am just here to say it is never easy with a baby, or when you miss your connecting flights, or when everyone assumes that the incessant screaming coming from the adjacent toddler is coming from your precious non-screaming angel.
See? Not screaming.
So what upset our fellow mini passenger so? It could've been that….
1. He was already exhausted from a full day of flying. They connected from somewhere in South America.
2. His parents didn't even try to put him to bed for the entire duration of the flight.
3. When he started rubbing his eyes and crying or exhibiting other signs of tiredness, his parents would actively try to keep him up- they would put headphones on him and put a movie on, offered him a snack, etc. No sleep for you, Junior!
4. He didn't have anything to eat except for chocolate and cookies.
5. His mom kept giving him baby bottles…full of Sprite. 6 whole cans of Sprite (that I counted), until the flight attendant cut her off.
6. He started puking from the massive sugar overload.
7. And his mom didn't change his vom-soaked clothes. Come to think of it, I didn't see a diaper change either.
All on a 9 hour flight.
I hope you weren't feeling like a bad mom today. If you were, cut it out and give yourself a gold star. Or a mother of the year award.
Breaking the blog silence from the great state of Texas. Hallelujah, right?
Thanks to Grace & Anne for shaming me (in the nicest way, of course) out of blog hibernation- so now that you know that I am completely susceptible to peer pressure, don't go suggesting I try anything crazy like hi-lo hemlines, ombre hairstyles, or paleo diets. Promise? I knew you would.
What I Wore to Thanksgiving Dinner:
Chambray-esque top and coral (ahem) skinnies both from Target, keeping me semi-trendy in my slightly larger post baby shape. Tory Burch sandals from Nordstrom.
Do you like my new "low lights"? Or, as I like to say, practically brunette locks with copper accents? Yeah, me neither.
This Texas adventure is sadly almost over. We're back to the UK on Monday. Sniff sniff. And just in case you were wondering, I wholeheartedly do not recommend taking 3 month old or 4 month old babies on long haul flights.
...wait...did I just say my baby was four months old?! Gahh...
It's been a few weeks since we moved into our new home, but much of that was spent cleaning, waiting for an internet connection, unpacking, waiting on an internet connection, trying to order new appliances and waiting on an internet connection.
Strange priorities? I think not.
The last house thoroughly traumatized me and I will definitely never ever ever understand the British cultural aspiration to own a very very old house. Please give me something new and shiny and watertight and not full of damp and mold, thanks.
...which is exactly what we got. We moved into a remodeled 1970's bungalow (very undesirable by most locals' standards), but I don't care because it's new and shiny and watertight.
With a UTILITY ROOM! and a bathroom....DOWNSTAIRS! Each a holy grail in terms of home features here, to be sure.
We're in (yet another) new village. Smallest yet, but I keep seeing ladies walking with strollers so perhaps I won't be too isolated. However, this will require me to go outside and stop creepily peeking out the window. What can I say, I'm a little bit of an introvert.
In other news, there was this thing last weekend/this week called "the Jubilee" where everyone got a four day weekend and pretended to be very patriotic. Now that it's over, we'll all go back to watching nightly specials detailing which boring village the Olympic Torch went through today.
One of the things that people back home are most curious about is the health system here.
...I will tell you that it is not as bad as the gulag infirmary that lots of Americans fear it to be (even though my local GP office does look like a POW camp. But that's a story for a different day.)
...But I will also say that it is not the magical fairy system of endless virtue with unicorns and peacocks, where all doctors are brilliant saints who look like Patrick Dempsey- which is what you might think talking to many Brits.
I like knowing that I can get a next day or same day appointment if I'm sick. I like the minimal paperwork.
I dislike the constant obsession with my drinking habits (I have been asked on more than one occasion when was the last time I got so drunk I blacked out. Um, never?!). I dislike having no choice of provider. I'm a little bit afraid that I'll get to the hospital to deliver the baby and they will tell me that they're closed and not taking any more patients. Sorry, drive to the next nearest hospital (an hour away). I'm also a little bit afraid of delivering the baby by myself, since if you are in the hospital they technically don't have to provide a midwife to attend to you during labor.
But most of all, I dislike that they want me to pee in this:
That thing is TINY.
It's just not fair. Or realistic. But it's a little bit funny.
Oh yeah, and I'm supposed to recycle it. As in, bring it in full, take it home empty. Repeat for next appointment. Kind of gross. And kind of a cheap and unnecessary cost cutting measure. Surely something a little bigger wouldn't be too much more expensive?
I think my mom could feel how tired of being cold I was, so she bought me a plane ticket to go back to Texas. For a month. Please accept "I was too busy gorging myself on enchiladas and sunshine" as a valid reason for not posting.
I came back to the UK all happy and refreshed only to walk into the garden of our new-found cottage to find the big apple tree, split in half and laying across the sidewalk going up to the front door.
We went inside.
Funky smell.
We walked into the living room. Even more funky smell.
And sagging ceiling.
...and standing water.
And.... jeez. louise. Please dear soft tiny baby infant Jesus don't tell me this place has a roof leak.
But oh, it does.
We called the landlord who informed us it might be kind of hard for him to deal with it since he has to see a doctor about his knee (or something). I'm not sure how that would prevent you from calling a roofer or repairman or SOMEONE please ANYONE, but you know, this is England, it's the country and what do you expect?
The roofer made his way out a few days later and pointed out all of the places in the house which had a damp problem (i.e. almost everywhere). I asked him how long water had been coming in. He said at least a year. So the insides of this house are rotting and moldy and somehow, someway the landlord and any previous tenants didn't seem to notice water coming into the house every time it rained.
At least it makes sense now why the Secret Agent and I both had trouble breathing in the house. A mold and damp infestation.
And then the midwife told me that it was a bad idea for me to be there, being super pregnant and all. Then she said that the baby couldn't live there because it's way worse for a tiny small person to be exposed because then they'll develop asthma and every other horrible disease known to man. As if standing water wasn't enough to get me to leave.
So now we're kind of homeless. No word from the landlord, but we have to tell him we're moving out.
Hopefully he'll be reasonable.
And hopefully we'll find a new home, preferably before I go into labor.
Well, color me excited- I've been tagged by none other that Mrs. Patton herself for an exciting game of blog tag. Get ready for probably more than you ever wanted to know about yours-truly.
These are the "rules"...
1. The first rule is to post these rules. (Check.)
2. Post a photo of yourself and 11 things about yourself/your life. (Photo on the sidebar, you can live with that, right?)
3. Answer the questions set for you in the original post. (Check.)
4. Create 11 new questions and tag people to answer them. (I'm breaking this rule. Anyone who I would tag has already been tagged.).
11 Autobiographical Points
1. Even though I wasn't born there, I will always call Texas home.
2. I met my husband on the internet. No, it wasn't on E-Harmony and yes, it freaked my parents out a little.
3. I planned my whole wedding by email with a wedding planner I'd never met.
4. My mom is an insanely gifted seamstress. I wish I made her teach me everything she knows, but I didn't. I'm guessing she gets a lot of enjoyment from my frantic sewing project emails.
5. Now that I live closer to the Arctic Circle, fewer people ask me if I'm a natural blonde. I am, but I secretly want to be a redhead.
6. I have a major addiction to Greek yogurt. And Nutella. But not together.
7. My favorite part of BBC programming? The tranquil sound effects they play when there is downtime between shows.
8. It took me a long time to realize that here, pants=underwear. Now I know why the ladies at the dry cleaner always laughed at me when I asked to pick up my husband's pants.
9. We're having our first baby. It will allegedly be here in July. Hooray!
10. The child compels me to eat oranges and lots of foods with tomatoes. He/she hates chicken.
11. I make my own laundry detergent. It's awesome.
And now for Grace's questions:
1. Age: I have been alive for a quarter of a century.
2. Dream job?: I'm living the dream. I don't get paid in cash-money, but I live in a beautiful place, I get to cook/bake whenever I want for a husband whom I adore, and I have lots of time to read. Though the last part will probably change come July.
3. Favorite blog: tough call! I don't know that I have a favorite, really…but I'm a big fan of the ladies-who-keep-it-real-blog variety.
4. Favorite recipe: mmmm….chicken and biscuits. My mom used to make it when I was growing up and holy cannoli, it's my favorite. It's basically kind of like chicken pot pie, but instead of in a pie shell, you put the chicken mixture in a baking dish and top it with homemade biscuits. Not diet food, at all.
5. Favorite book: CS Lewis' Space Trilogy. But I guess that's three books...
6. One piece or two piece swimsuit: one piece. always. I'm not comfortable wearing my underwear in public, ergo not comfortable in a two-piece.
7. Most embarrassing moment: Does all of junior high and high school count?
8. Pet(s) & names?: Caesar. He's a Bichon Frise that now lives with my parents. I miss him so much!!!
I didn't have the heart to ship him as animal cargo. Does that face look like cargo to you?!
9. Specific makeup item I can't live without: I'm really loving Laura Mercier tinted moisturizer. It has more color than a typical tinted moisturizer, but isn't as serious as a foundation and is definitely not as fussy to put on. And I need mascara recommendations, so bring 'em on!
10. Favorite song of the moment: It's not a new song, but I still love it.
11. Weekend plans: We're moving on Saturday, so I'm unpacking…. and if I finish, we'll go party in the new village. And by party, I of course mean get mediocre take-out and $7.50 pint of Ben and Jerry's and call it a day.
Our three hour tour of uber-outer-pretty-much-not-London was almost not worth the 7-ish hours we spent traveling there and back. I say almost because while the Secret Agent was working away, I spent my three hours eating tasty artisanal bread sandwiches and cake. Lots of cake. And cake and tasty bread are always worth it. Especially when it's bread like this…
I should've photographed the cake, but it was looooooong gone before that even crossed my mind. Sorry, maybe next time.
In other news, we here in the Village have a very busy week ahead of us. The Secret Agent will be busy continuing to defend the Free World and I will be packing up our starter apartment because we are moving to a new village!
Major village upgrade in the works, people. Not only are we moving to a much nicer + prettier village, but we are also getting this charming little cottage!
….with a garden!
….and a garage!
….and a functioning hot water heater!
….no dishwasher, but hey, it's the Village. Pick your battles.
Lots of packing for me and more stories, reflections and excellent iPhone photography headed your way.
