James' Birthday Party

Micah posted pictures of James' super duper third birthday party here. Enjoy!

Laughter and Forgetting

James is such a delightful, funny little boy, it's impossible to chronicle all the delightful, funny little things he does. What that means is that I remember generally how James was as an infant and smaller toddler, but some of the specifics are disturbingly quickly forgotten. I was just looking back at some videos we'd taken of James over the past year or so, and remembering things he used to do. For instance, he used to say something that sounded like "pressa" before addressing me or Micah: "Pressa Mommy, where are you?" or "Hi, pressa Daddy." To this day, I have no idea what he meant by it, but the thing is, he doesn't do it anymore. Another thing he used to do was hit himself, usually on the head, for no reason at all. I'm glad that little oddity is a thing of the past. Lately he's been saying "my" instead of "I'm." As in, "My sorry, Mommy" or Q: "James, are you okay?" A: "My fine, my fine." Anyway, this is a video from a few months ago that I promised my sisters I'd post. Here's to remembering how silly I was to leave my lipstick where James could get it...

James's Birthday

Well, he's three. I can't believe that three years have gone by. I just wanted to thank all of you who have called, sent gifts and cards, and been there for James. Here's to a wonderful little boy!

Horniman Museum and Getting There

Friday, we went to the Horniman Museum. We had heard it had a great aquarium (which it does, albeit a small one). To get there, we took the 521 bus to London Bridge station, from which we took the National Rail service to Forest Hill. I want to take this opportunity to say how much I love rail stations.* When you're in a train station, it seems as though a world of possibility is open to you. Dotted throughout Britain, connected by a crisscrossing of rails like the veins on a leaf, rail stations are much more accessible than airports and much less depressing than their American cousins. They are breezy, inviting, bustling... and they fill my heart with lovely anticipation. The London Bridge - Forest Hill trip was short (15 or 20 minutes) and cheap (3.80 GBP return), but I could easily have bought a ticket to Edinburgh. Or Swansea. Or Dover. I could have just as easily gone almost anywhere in the country. I know, you can go anywhere in the States with a plane ticket, but it's not the same.

So, reader, I invite you to come ride the rails with me. You'll never be the same.

*I must say, I understand in some measure why King's Cross station plays such a significant part in the Harry Potter novels.

Where Am I?

I traveled today from our flat in central London to a couple of friends' homes in East London, trying out some alternative transportation routes in order to avoid the dreaded transfer at Bank station. For reasons related to my own incompetence and stubbornness, I ended up walking much more than I had intended, through some interesting neighborhoods. Not really dangerous neighborhoods - just more industrial than residential. It got me thinking -- Greater London is a relatively small area, consisting of 609 square miles of land out of the approximately 57 million on Earth. But on almost any given 90p ($1.80) bus ride in the capital, you can pass wide green expanses next to row after row of (aptly named) row houses. There are crumbling warehouses around the corner from extravagant hotels. There are stones from the old Roman city walls tucked in between shiny new skyscrapers. So my tube, light rail, light rail, walking, bus, walking, bus, and tube journeys today took me through dozens of little mini-cities. There was a totally different feeling in each neighborhood, and frankly it was disorienting. Trying to make sense of these disparate pieces as part of a larger whole was mentally like trying to put together a puzzle with the pieces from several different boxes. Living in New York was like living in a mosaic; the neighborhoods were different, but felt like part of one grand composition. London is more like the collage of a madman. I've yet to process all the feelings that surfaced for me today, but one thing I have realized is that there is value in being caught off guard. I said to Micah the other day that I feel more at home in New York than here in London. That is true. But I also like London more. Maybe part of what I like about it is its ability to disquiet me.