Uh oh. Technology and Children.

This reality hit very hard when I was asked to fix the sound on her computer. I figured it was just Reading Egg games, which is a reading programme she's be using for a couple years. Not paying attention and definitely not figuring it out, I called for Eric to "fix Ellie's sound in Reading Eggs"......

Indignant and Insulted Six Year Old
"Mom!!! This is NOT Reading Eggs! This is Starfall!"

Tired Mum with Pulled Muscle Wallowing in Self Pity
"Umm, OK, whatever."

Slightly More Attentive Dad
"What is Starfall? And where did you get it?"

Ever so Proud Six Year Old
"I searched on Google and downloaded it! Here, let me show you how."

*proceeds to give a step by step tutorial*

Parents Entering Massive State of Panick
"Sweetie, how did you hear of it? When did you learn to do that? What other things have you downloaded? Can I see your computer a second? Just a quick second...."

*strained voice and search for how to install NetNanny takes place in background as well as a look at the programs list*

Puffed Chest Six Year Old
"I learned about this game at school!"

Sagging with Relief Parents
"Oh, that's really cool."

*exchange looks of "crap, that was early, now what" between parents*

Frankly, NetNanny didn't seem that useful and since she's gotten around all child proof things up to this date, including technology, I don't have a lot of hopes. Our goal is to simply educate her on what's right and what's wrong as she's at the age of wanting to do things right.

Teen years though....well, that's a long way away.

Right?

*cry*

Turning Lemons into Sidecars

Forget lemonade. Let's take those lemons and add some cognac!

Fuming over the idea that not only did our hot water heater give it's last gasp over the weekend and that nobody could fit us for an installation until Tuesday, it became clear to pull out the survivalist manual.

The Willeke Survivalist Manual
.... in cases where hot water is not available for multiple days and you will both feel and smell like a rotting corpse in no time flat, find the nearest five star hotel, wallow in the hot tub, and eat like royalty.....

In our panic, we nearly forgot such sage advice and nearly did something stupid like consider freezing showers, boiling water to clean dishes, and being overall miserable. We could have improved matters slightly and stayed at the Residence Inn where there would have been family space, but then, when there is a ritzy top tier Bohemian in town with a huge likelihood of the typical Premium Marriott upgrade, why stop at lemonade? 

Indeed, it was a lovely experience that was comparable to the luxury hotels like the Waldorf Astoria, so these past couple of days has been a very pleasant Sidecar we made out of the frustrating lemons that the blown hot water heater gave us! 

The Three Signs of a Miserable Job (book review)

The Three Signs of a Miserable Job: A Management Fable About Helping Employees Find Fulfillment in Their Work by Patrick Lencioni

View all my reviews

Performing Arts ... Done Well!

It can be easily assumed that the performing arts in London is going to be pretty awesome. Far more awesome, for example, than rural North Carolina. Or frankly, much of anywhere in the USA. While not completely fair when we have New York City, London has it's own reputation of amazing appeal for performing arts, specifically for us experiencing two puppet shows, a children's ballet, and a children's play.

This weekend, starting with Thursday, has been a major focus on Ellie's exposure and enjoyment of the performing arts, starting with Little Angel Theatre for Thursday's Sleeping Beauty in the Wood, which scared her a bit with the finger pricking, but was greatly relieved that the prince found the princess and woke the kingdom!

In both puppet shows, which included next day's hilarious Dogs Don't Do Ballet that also relaxed her wonderfully, she was thrilled to enjoy the Cadbury chocolate buttons. Ellie seemed to have a mix of relief and feeling grown up when the first puppet show had an interval, and then again for the ballet and the play the following two days.

Admittedly the Wind in the Willows was somewhat selfish as it was a favourite childhood story for me, and then it was being offered by the Royal Opera House in the Duchess Theatre, so no complaints for getting Ellie into a West End theatre! I silently wept to miss out on some wonderful shows that I would have loved, such as Lawrence Fox playing Strangers on a Train, but when Ellie's school allowed her to come for these nine days, I was personally determined that they remain focused on what Ellie would enjoy. Besides, how could I ever complain about Wind in the Willows?

I knew that the right priorities had been made when Ellie announced at the end of Friday, which had Dogs Don't Do Ballet in the afternoon and Wind in the Willows that evening (with a cupcake interlude between), that it was the "awesomest awesome day ever!!!!" 

*grin* Correct decisions made!

Lastly, but certainly not least in this tirade of London performing arts focused solely on children was Polka Theatre's Alice in Wonderland. Despite being all the way down in Wimbledon, and despite the fact that Ellie started shaking violently when it appeared that Alice was going to die at the hand of the Queen of Hearts, it would seem that the entire afternoon dedicated to the play / musical was well worth it as Ellie announced it was fine after all since it was just Alice's dream, and that she got ice cream during the interval.

Sometimes I worry that my 200 quid for all these shows will be remembered only for the snacks during the intervals.

The Girls Week Out

So far this week in London it's just been a massive Girl's Week Out, as so far we have been frequently referred to by people we've met along the way. The torture session is taking turn. One visit to Hamley's for one visit to Anthropologie. One visit to The Portobello Print and Map Shop for a gander through The Blue Door. Ellie's still trying to get even with me for a long stint at the British Museum, but I think I've bought her off. While I'm sure Ellie would report a nightmarish experience at Anthropologie, I do believe it could not have been worse at Hamley's. Seven freaking levels of crap, otherwise known as toys. A visit to the cupcake parlor, a broad swath through the candy section, and a painful decision making process for the "one" toy. I was voting for the remote car that went on walls and ceilings, but she opted for the messiest toy on the planet; a rainbow paint set. Right.




Notting Gate was a dream as I got my side of the bargain from the cupcake parlor "experience" by getting a cheese and wine extravaganza. Ellie had stronger words than "experience", but I bought her off again with some very nice yoghurts they sold and the fact that she got to sit down. For me, I was in a lower echelon of heaven as they not only served me gargantuan servings of cheese, but he left me the bottle of wine after serving my goblet because there wasn't a whole lot. Lovely service!

At least tomorrow we get promoted from food and shopping to cultural experience. Two puppet shows and a play for Ellie for the next three days. I wish for a show of my own; but secretly, the children's shows here are pretty awesome! We did go for the history and culture effort today, which had a good start...and a "dear God can we leave" end from Elle :)

One thing is for certain; the ramblings have been all devoted to girly things. There's just a few decades difference on preference.

My Little Traveler (with pride)

I was warned that when I started dragging Ellie around the international scene when she was seven months old that she wouldn't necessarily learn anything or suddenly get a shot of culture. True enough. However, something that the travel did in starting at such a young age was to groom her for an excellent traveler when she was old enough to care and understand. I say this with a certain amount of pride with how wonderful she handled the London trip last night. At six years old, she is now a helpful traveler who understands context and what not to do. Granted I got some grey hairs with some earlier travels, such as the time when she was three years old and shot across the six lane road at Kings Cross Station with no warning; an experience that resulted in weeks of nightmares. There was one flight to Boston where she screamed the entire way when she was a little over one years old. We have no idea what was up with that. One flight from Rome to Malta involved much crying, but that was frankly due to teething and the steward constantly forcing her to be sitting in a position that did not allow her to sleep. At seven months. Seriously? I was grateful that the passengers took their wrath out on the stupid steward. My parents have reported a flight where orange juice got on her socks, something that must never occur with an OCD two year old, but apparently it was resolved quickly. I hope. I didn't inquire deeply.

However, we have all survived those first five years; and regardless, her statistics for good traveling are high. For this trip, she managed the seven hour overnight flight with no battles, 25 stop underground trip, and then bus while being responsible for her own luggage and keeping an eye out for appropriate stations, bus numbers, and finally, stalking down the flat number with a certain urgency. I took it for granted until I realised, halfway through our 25 stop Underground trip across the majority of the Picadilly line, that she was clasping her hands in her lap staring carefully at the maps the whole time, occasionally asking for an update.

Clasping hands and map staring in the reflection.

So she's definitely earned her toy shoppe visits to Hamley's and Harrod's, and I'm just a wee bit proud of our decision to make her a global child. I showed her the GPS street view of Hamley's Toy Shoppe, which she has declared a priority for tomorrow. Her response?

"Now THAT is what I call Hamley's!"