Up for a brief tour of our lil' pad?

If I had a picture of a welcome mat, I would insert one [here].

I figured that before too much time passed, I should show you all where we live. As you may have noticed, I affectionately refer to is as our little ghetto. In England however ghettos are referred to as council estates. Although that sounds posh due to the use of the word 'estate', it's actually quite a slam. For instance, if you wanted to make fun of someone for what they were wearing you could say "wow, you like you just walked off a council estate." Supposedly it's where all the chavs live. Explaining chav, well...that in and of itself is another post entirely so I'll move on.

This is a council estate:



Pretty, don't ya think? No, thankfully, we don't live in a council block building. However I would much rather pay their rent per week than ours! To me, these buildings are high-rise hell but the rent is controlled and for some, it's the only way they can financially survive living in London. Instead of living in one, we live right next to one of them and there are about 5 more in the surrounding area. They are quite an eye sore but we've learned to see past their awful exterior and windows with bed sheet curtains. We've embraced the fact that we are roughing it in a very shi-shi part of London. Not only do we live right under one but so does Bob Hoskins, Sadie Frost, David Walliams. They all live right down the street somewhat near another fine work of architectural engineering...a council block. So, I don't feel so bad livin' in the ghetto. If they can do it...

Our home is considered to be a townhouse of sorts. It's not what you'd call pretty by any means but it suits our needs while we're here. We've got off street parking (HUGE plus in a big city) and we've even got our own garage. Not that we'd ever be able to fit our car into it, but it's the thought that counts, right?!




The house is a mere three stories: Ground floor is the kitchen and dining area with our laundry room, loo (aka bathroom) and access to the backyard. First floor is the reception room (aka living room), sitting room and playroom. The third floor has three bedrooms and two full bathrooms. It's quite spacious by city living standards and has drastically reduced my time on the stairmaster at the gym. It makes us laugh every time we walk up and down the stairs because while house-hunting, we avoided anything above a 2nd floor walk up. We didn't want to be bothered with stairs. Silly silly us.

So, it's not the tidiest of kitchen pictures but if I waited for a clean kitchen before I took a picture, I'd never include the kitchen in this post. So, deal with the mess...I do.



The following pictures will show you our reception room and sitting room. It's one of my favorite spaces in the house and is finally, partially rid of toys.






Next is the playroom. We've learned from living in the romper room for the past few years, that a playroom is an absolute must. When Avery was born I wondered what she was going to do with herself as she grew up because, at the time, we had no toys. Then one day, we woke up and found ourselves buried in Barbie, Legos, Playdoh, Crayola and My Little Ponies. I don't know how it happened...really I don't. Since, this room is totally a space for the girls, we rarely tidy it up because really, what's the point?




I'm not putting any photos of the bedrooms on here because, well, they're just that. A place to sleep and I'm not a bed maker...not even for pictures.

And our garden is our little piece of paradise. Yes, I realize that it in no way, resembles a garden. However, a garden to the English is a yard to the American. There is a slight difference though...a garden needs no grass to be a garden. It can be patch of grass, patio, cement slab, mess of bushes and trees. What it can't be is what we Americans call a garden. There is generally no fruit or vegetables inhabiting it. Better for me since I have yet to establish my green thumb. Anyway, our yard may be small but it is one serious commodity out here. This summer, all I will have to do is open up the door and the girls will have free reign. ..then I guess I'll have to learn how to use a mop b/c the ground never quite dries out from all the rain.Here's the view of our little heaven from our master bedroom and below it is some of our neighbor's pads.



Well, that's about it. Hopefully the pictures give you a pretty decent portrait of our home in Londontown. Until next post...

A birthday party for an American in a French Restaurant in London. Of course!!

As most of you know, I'm not the most proactive of planners. It's actually quite surprising considering my mom has apoplexy if things aren't sorted at least 2 weeks in advance (smile mom, just a little joke). So when it came to Avery's birthday celebration for big ole #5, planning crossed my mind in about December. December 31st to be exact. Her birthday is January 12th mind you. When I actually got my bum in gear however, it was about the 5th of January and everything worthwhile was booked 6 months in advance. Luckily I was able to swindle a little deal with our local Leisure Centre and I was able to secure the date of 11 February. Ah...so only a month behind. Not bad. Now, ask me if I've started planning Sloane's party for May and all I can muster is a big hearty laugh.



Her party was absolutely FABULOUS and we couldn't have had a better time. We invited her entire class and a few other friends we've picked up along the way. We headed to the Leisure Centre where the kids had a ball at Rascals, a gigantic playplace. Imagine the coolest playground with tunnels and chutes that tower about 3o feet in the air. Not only did the children have fun but it was one of the only times they allow the parents to partake in the activities too! We got to climb 20 foot high slides and throw plastic balls, play football and basketball and act like children again. It was incredible!



Once we had our fill of the balls it was time to fill our bellies. So we walked the gaggle of boys and girls and headed for Bradley's...a very shi-shi little restaurant right down the road from us. In we walk with about 10 adults and a total of 20 children all ready for a fine dining experience. I thought the kids would be crazy but they were on their best behavior and acted like they'd grown up eating in a fancy restaurant. Now that I say that, most of her classmates probably have grown up in fancy restaurants! (ha ha). We are soooo far out of our league!



I have to tell you all a funny story about the restaurant. When I called (with much trepidation) to ask if I could have a party there, the owner Simon, said sure. I clarified a bit and said...would it be okay for about 30 five-year-olds...he responded with "35 year olds? Sure, no problem." Again, I re-clarified and said no...thirty...five-year-olds. The response was....."ER.....ER....well?" Needless to say, I convinced Simon and he worked with me on the menu and all the fixings.

As I mentioned, it was fantastic and it was the first time that my expectations of services in London have been exceeded. They've never had a party for a munchkin before but it seemed like they were old pros. The restaurant had 4 on staff for the party: a waiter, waitress, bartender and chef. Each child was served pasta and chicken like they were the only one in the restaurant. They opened the bar for us, served the adults trays of canapes and made sure we had our coffee and capuccino's. There was NOTHING for Matt and I to do...we just sat around and watched the kids have a ball at the party. The best part was the cake...they dimmed the lights and helped us sing Happy Birthday to Avery. Immediately they cut the cake in the most perfect little squares, put them on fancy plates with a scoop of ice cream and dashes of powdered sugar...it looked as though our cheap little CostCo cake came from Wolfgang Puck himself.



Overall I think the kids had a super time and Avery felt like she was on top of the world. It was one of those things that I think she'll remember forever. She did however, miss her friends back home in Jersey and wished they could be there to share in the fun. There really isn't a day that goes by that she doesn't mention them....so, all you little ones at the Westfield Y pre-school....WE MISS YOU!!!!! Below are some pictures of her friends at her new school...