Winter Wonderland 2008

A few weeks ago I took the kids to visit "Father Christmas", as he is known here. When one pays Santa a visit here, you visit him in his "grotto". Many places require you to book a time slot far ahead and of course pay $30 for the pleasure of sitting on Santa's knee.
We don't roll like that, so I took them to a Father Christmas that was only $10 at a shopping center. When we entered the grotto, which was inside a huge Christmas tree, Kate suddenly got very, very scared. It was very shiny and kind rave-tastic in this particular grotto, and I think she may have been overwhelmed with it all. She was hysterical and wouldn't go near Father Christmas. Michael didn't seem to mind all the flashing lights, loud music, or the man with the big long fake beard.
Until I handed him off. Then he seemed to mind quite a bit.




Ever since that day, Kate has been telling us that she needs to tell Santa "sorry" that she cried so much when she last saw him. So we took her back for one more shot at the Winter Wonderland festival in Hyde Park. Every year, there is a German Christmas market in Hyde Park with rides, gluh-wein, beer, brats and of course, the Big Man himself. We took the kids last year and Kate had a blast. This past weekend was actually quite warm and pleasant, so we headed out on Saturday. The minute we walked in, Kate started getting herself worked up about seeing Santa again. She kept asking in a panicky voice, "Where is he? Where is Santa?", like she thought he might jump out from behind a tree and scare her. She wanted to practice with every single Santa statue we saw, but would ask before she ventured near him, "Is that Santa real or pretend?". I guess the wooden face and chipped paint in the beard didn't clue her in.


When we showed her his grotto, she said she changed her mind and she'd just send him a letter instead. Like the stellar parents that we are, we bribed her with the promise of a ride later on. So we stood in line, and she was able to see with her very own eyes that Santa did not roar, bite or otherwise harm the children.



It's true! Santa isn't a dangerous carnivore who eats little children!

When we got there, she was completely fine and just said "Hi Santa", like it was no big deal. Santa told her to keep her room nice and tidy, so she has been a tidy-up monster ever since! Danny and I are trying to figure out how we'll be able to keep that part up after Christmas is over. She says, "I have to keep my room nice and tidy so that Santa can put lots presents ALL OVER IT!".



We held up our end of the bargain by letting her pick out a ride to go on. She chose the toboggan slide, and we paid $12 for the privilege of her riding down the fake mountain that doesn't even look like a mountain. (She and Danny are in the 2nd lane).


She really wanted to ride this little roller coaster, but after Danny saw how it was put together, he refused to let her. The entire thing was just standing on these little wooden blocks. Totally safe, I'm certain.

Kate Says:

"Daddy, I'm not going to tell you about the DVD you're getting for Christmas. So don't even ask, because I won't tell you anything about the DVD that mommy bought for you when we were in Dallas. She said 'Don't tell Daddy', so I'm not telling you about the DVD you're getting. Or the shirts, either".

In Paris:
"Why are all these people speaking French words?"

Dexter

This is obviously an older photo (Kate is wearing a skirt w/o tights), but I wanted to give Dexter a shout-out on the world wide web. I realized I hadn't mentioned him much when I spoke to an old friend last week and she asked if Dexter had died. :(

He is still very much a part of our family. Michael is probably his favorite family member now, as he loves to share whatever he is eating with Dex.
He is now just over 7 years old, and his hips do seem to give him quite a bit of trouble nowdays. The cold, damp weather certainly exacerbates the condition, and all of the stairs don't help either. But we're glad he made the trip over with us. We love him very much.


(and if you have a furbaby, I highly recommend the Furminator. It has drastically reduced the amount of dog hair floating around our house.).

City of Lights

We went to Paris last week for a weekend getaway. We arrived and made our way to our hotel, which was in the Latin quarter. The area is so named because it is home to the famous Sorbonne, which has been a university since 1253. The university hosted students from all over Europe, and the common language they spoke was Latin, so that was how they communicated with each other. I was quite underwhelmed with our hotel, but I did think it was clever that they painted the radiators to look like a fox.




Danny told me I was nuts and that it was most definitely not a fox, but just the way the radiators were designed. I thought I'd post it to the world to weigh in on their verdict?

We checked into our hotel and then set off to find some lunch. I was very worried about the kids in Paris, since I have heard that it is somewhat of a no-go zone for small children. The bistro we finally selected tried to tell me they couldn't accommodate Michael, but I used my excellent pantomime skills to convince them he would be fine in my lap while we ate, and said many silent prayers.

After lunch, we set off to see the famous Notre Dame cathedral.

We ended the evening by popping into a patisserie and buying some macarons:


Parisian macarons are not like the coconut ones you are probably familiar with. They are made of egg whites, similar to a meringue, and are sandwiched over layers or ganache or cream. They are delicious.

Of course we had to get a photo of our Michael in front of the fontaine Saint Michel. St. Michael the Archangel is not a canonized saint, but is referred to as such as a honorific title, because he is viewed as the field commander for the Army of God.


The next morning we walked to the Museum d'Orsee, which is well known for its collection of impressionist paintings.



The kids were not too keen on fine art, so we then walked on to the Rue Cler neighborhood to eat lunch.






After yet another fine Parisian meal, we headed over to the "Awful Tower", as Kate kept calling it. She was very excited about it, as we had been showing her pictures of it and reading about it in her Madeline books.










We rode a carousel at the base of the tower:




and then walked down the Champs Elysee and saw the Arc de Triumph.


Around this point, Kate said "I don't want to look at any more buildings. I just want some chocolate". We finally made it back to the hotel, and tried to guess how many miles we had walked that day in the freezing weather. After we got home, we plotted it on a map and it was almost 9 miles!



And yes, Kate walked the entire thing. She's such a city girl now.



A tired one in this photo over the Seine.




The next day we went for breakfast, and then got one last crepe before heading home.




When we asked Kate what her favorite thing about Paris was, she said "The hot chocolate, & the bread with butter & jelly, and the crepes". She was indulged in lots of treats that she doesn't normally get.
My favorite thing?
All the wine we bought to bring home. Alcohol is very heavily taxed in the UK, so it is much cheaper on the continent.


We had such a lovely weekend. When we first arrived, I was sort of regretting that we had gone. It was freezing (5 degrees Celsius), drizzly, and our hotel was a letdown. But we ended up having a really, really fun time.

So it is a bit like Frankenstein...

Michael looks like a ragamuffin in this video. We had just gotten back from Paris, and he has hat hair and sweaty-slept-in hair. But look!

It is a huge file, so I can't post it here. But click here to see, and make sure you have your sound on (you may have to turn it up on the player on the web site; click the little microphone looking thing)

http://www.thesaevas.com/michael_walks.html

Wordless Wednesday

You can pick your friends, but you can't pick your friend's noses. Good thing he's got his own then.

Prima Ballerina

Kate takes ballet at school, and she adores it. They don't do recitals, but a few times a year the parents are invited to come watch. Last time, she had stage fright and didn't do much performing. This time, however, she tapped into her inner performance artist and put on quite a show.
Notice how my kid is the only one who isn't wearing the full-on ballerina get-up. I've no idea why, but she insists on only wearing her tutu over her street clothes.