Happy belated Father's Day!

To the best dad in the world

The previous holder of the title

And to hoping The Boy takes after his dad and grandpa

Thinking about toys

Before I move along to a post about the time we spent in London, I have to get some stuff out of my head about toys.

I've been thinking a lot about toys lately; wondering what to get The Boy for his 2nd birthday, thinking about what kind of outside toys would work on our little patch of concrete out back, debating the next level of educational toys to move to. That was all stuff I was thinking about before we went to the UK. Now I'm just wondering if we're depriving The Boy. I've never liked the idea of raising an over-indulged brat with a bedroom/playroom/house bulging at the seams with the latest and greatest of toys available. I've been thinking that he's got just enough, but not too much to be spoiled.

That was until we visited The Boy's cousins in England. Talk about toys galore! Toys all over the place. Outside toys, inside toys, kitchen toys, cleaning toys, train sets, tea sets, dollies, motorcycles, keyboards, pretend towns, blocks... I could go on. The Boy was in Heaven, and I was feeling like a miserly grump who only gives her kid lumps of coal to play with. And the kids we were visiting don't belong to particularly indulgent parents. Oof!

So does that mean I'm more of miser than a cool minimalist? Who knew toys could be such a cause for neurosis?

An Awfully Big Adventure, Part 1

My half-English son has, after 22 months, finally been to England. It was a short trip - a scant 12 days - but we made a triangle route around the country. We traveled to the West Country to Derbyshire to York and to Canterbury in our trusty VW rental before heading into London.

The Boy played in his grandparents' garden with his cousins, ran around his great-grandmother's house - taking great care to test her antique keyboard with his chubby fingers, he then played with more cousins before stomping around Canterbury and trying to wake Chaucer from the dead.

So here's The Boy in his grandparents' garden

And still in the garden, working with his auntie and cousins

Here's The Boy terrorizing his great grandmother

And taking his first turn on a scooter

And eating at Wagamama in Canterbury with his namesake

And enjoying a post-dinner walk by Canterbury Cathedral with his dad

That last one's kind of artsy, no?

Next up, London!