Bonjour from Paris

Margot, Babi, and their first creme brulee:


Brodie, Min and the view of the Eiffel Tower from Place de Trocadero:


An elated Min after dropping a coin and getting a bow from the mummy over the Seine:


Pausing for a biere in the Latin Quarter:


Min and Claudia on the bench where Brodie proposed seven years ago:

Where's the Princess?

I must have really been tired when I wrote that last post, because I forgot to mentioned the funniest part of our visit to Windsor Castle.

Margot was thrilled to be at a real castle. She obsesses over all things Princess, and this includes tutus, tiaras, Disney princesses, kings, crowns, horse-drawn carriages, etc. (Those Disney marketers sure are good at their jobs.) In the mornings, she likes to shower kisses on me and Brodie when our eyes are closed, claiming she's waking the sleeping "queen" and "king." So you can imagine how excited Margot was when we told her we were visiting an actual castle when a queen (sometimes) lives.

Unfortunately, we didn't come across any royalty, and certainly no one who looked like Disney's Cinderella. As our visit wound to a close, Margot demanded to see Cinderella.

"Where is the princess? Where is Cinderella? I want to see Cinderella!" she yelled. This continued for the next ten minutes, as Brodie and I tried to steer her stroller toward the exit.

Meanwhile, conveniently, two eight-year-olds walked by wearing princess costumes. "Look, there is a princess!" I said. (Wait, is Margot still going to be obsessing about princesses for the next six years? Ugh.) Margot was not convinced. "That's not a princess, that's just a girl."

"Oh, sweetie, Cinderella must be out shopping for a new dress. We must have missed her," I said.

This worked. Of course, a princess would need a new dress. Margot accepted this explanation. And she's lamented Cinderella's absence from Windsor Castle for a full week now. "Cinderella wasn't at home because she was out shopping for a new dress," Margot reminds us every morning.

Quel dommage.

Back in the UK

Apologies for the many weeks without a post. It's been a hectic four weeks since my last post. And I've missed a few highlights since my last post (including Margot's first swear, which was 'dammit' when Babi got stuck in her sleeve one morning). I take full credit for that, by the way. After carrying so much luggage through the airport, and moving us from a condo to a new apartment in Philly, I might have let my language slip once or twice. Anyway, she's clear now that swearing is a right earned by people who carry really heavy things, thus disqualifying her.

We've been back in the UK for more than a week now and have been full-time tourists since we returned. We visited Windsor Castle, wandered around Notting Hill's Portobello Market, went to the British Museum, saw the matinee production of The Lion King today, sniffed the roses at Queen Mary's garden in Regent's Park, played at St. James's Park, wandered Covent Garden (again), and lunched on more fish and chips.

It's late and I'm tired, so I can't think of any creative anecdotes to note here. But I found it profound that Margot thought the mummies in the British Museum looked "happy," and I was so incredibly proud of her for being so well-behaved at The Lion King this afternoon. She really enjoyed the show, although I skirted explaining death to her when the Lion King dies in the first act - it was just too big a topic to whisper about in a darkened theater. I told her the Lion King was "run over" (by buffalo) and she generally accepted that explanation (we'll see what kinds of questions I have to answer tomorrow, though, after she's had a chance to sleep on it). I couldn't believe that she didn't cry once and wasn't frightened at all. In fact, she stood in front of her seat and danced with the performers whenever a dance number rang out.

This photo is from yesterday, when Min and I shared a plate of fish and chips before visiting the British Museum - yum!

The Power of Perception

I don't know when Margot became so mature in her perceptions, but this is clearly one of her strengths/gifts.

We spent some time in the mall this afternoon, staying out of the soupy heat that enveloped the Philadelphia metro region today. We paused for a brief lunch in the food court; Margot requested a hamburger (an unusual request for her) and I ate a veggie burger from Burger King.

We sat at a table next to a girl who was probably about eight or nine years old. She was writing in an activity workbook - filling in crosswords, doing word finds, etc. When we first sat down, I thought perhaps her mom or dad was picking up lunch from one of the fast food joints in the food court while she held the table. After a few minutes, I realized no one had come to join her. Almost simultaneously, I noted the resemblance between the girl and a woman who stood about 15 feet away, handing out tiny samples of 'bourbon chicken.' Ahhh...it must be her mother, I thought. Poor kid, I thought. I wondered if she had to spend every day in the mall food court or if her babysitter had just fallen through today.

All of these thoughts were in my head. I did not speak a word about it (it was just me and Margot, after all).

Margot chewed on her plain hamburger, lost in thought. For her, this was also unusual. Normally she keeps up a steady stream of observations of all that is happening around her.

I heard the quietest of songs coming from the girl while she worked in her workbook. Margot heard it too; then she looked at me.

"That girl is singing, Mommy," said Margot, quietly. The girl was only about two feet away from her.

"Yes, she's singing a little song," I agreed.

"That girl is lonely, Mommy," Margot concluded.

And for some reason, this just about broke my heart. Not only had Margot noticed the girl was alone, without a playmate, mom, or dad, but she sensed her sadness. Margot knows what loneliness is. When did she learn this? How did she learn this? How did she learn to sense this in a young girl who never looked at her, but only continued to write in her activity book?

Explanation for My Silence

So it's been a week since I last posted, and a number of things have changed. For starters, Min and I are back in Philadelphia for a few weeks. I hadn't planned on this; it just kind of happened. But what's done is done.

The explanation: I freaked out. Uncharacteristic of me, I know, but it happened nonetheless. As someone who loves an international thrill, the proximity of the unexploded car bombs in central London to our flat (about a 10-15 minute walk) shouldn't have made me bat an eye. And they didn't at first (that Friday was a beautiful day in London with lots of sunshine and breezes; all I could think about was enjoying the weather). But then when the car crashed into the Glasgow airport, I lost it. I thought we were under attack. And I was possessed by a never-before-experienced urge to protect my baby. Also, I feared we could never comfortably ride the Tube or a bus. What would we do - sit around the dark flat for the next seven weeks?

So I called US Air and changed mine and Margot's tickets to fly home to Philadelphia a few days ago.

I readily admit that the following morning I felt more than a little silly. The old (read = levelheaded) me returned. I'm certain that I completely overreacted. And now Margot and I are biding some time here in steamy Philadelphia, while Brodie is logging long hours at the office alone in London. But what's done is done. (It's a small consolation that at least I am getting tan again with Philadelphia's summer sun as opposed to England's cloudy mist.)

We'll head back to London at the end of the month after we finish moving across town. So, for now, our anecdotes will once again be domestic. Oh, and I left Brodie the camera, so there will be no photos. But that just means I have to do a better job describing Min's adventures, since there will be no visual aids.