The Hauer Family

We decided to rip the band-aid (or elastoplast) off slowly… so instead of heading straight for home, we took a two day side-trip to York. Just us three. We had talked about heading north to Edinburgh, but decided on the medieval, walled city of York. It was walkable, and we felt like, even though we were only going to be there for a short time, we could “see it all”. Well, except the dungeons and the walls. Both aren’t stroller friendly.

We stayed in a bed and breakfast outside the city centre, about a 10 minute walk along the banks of the River Ouse. This allowed us to scope out parks on both sides of the river, giving little man somewhere to burn off his energy and for us to eat Indian takeout on the benches. Rowntree Park was fabulous. It is a park that wasn’t designed by the safety police, it, instead, begged for engagement and limit-testing and fun. It was a park. I, for one, enjoyed the zipline and Bill climbed to the top of the net dome. Jack, surprised us both when he climbed halfway up the metal slide (without us noticing) — and then went the whole way whilst I hit record. Evidence below.

We essentially walked and walked and walked. Round and round and round. Apparently medieval folks had this keen sense of direction that somehow got lost on us modern folk. We passed the same things 3 times, but couldn’t find the Thorton’s Toffee shop that we saw earlier in the day that “I swear, it’s just round this corner.” And, due to the cold rain, and the blessing of a ticket that never expired, we spent a lot of time in York Minster. On our second round of the Minster, Jack decided he’d like to cut a tooth — forget the stained glass, the acoustics in that place are amazing.

Loved York. Loved spending time with “just us” exploring a new place and making our own memories.

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Leaving York; however, proved to be challenging. After spending a quick hour at the Stephenson Railway Museum seeing the Flying Scotsman, Hogwarts Express and marveling at how the whole modern rail system works — on our return trip to London, we were met with delays and then breakdowns. Which resulted in changing trains and cramming the passengers from our train onto another, already, somewhat full, train. Ironically, it was the train that left two hours before our scheduled train from York. Because we weren’t exactly light packers; we were the last off the broken train — along with elderly and what could only be described as vagabonds (I swear one guy was nursing a half-bitten ear). Three hours after our scheduled arrival, we made it to London. Leaving us just enough time to make it to our hotel airport via the Tube and be directed to the nearest Indian restaurant for our last “British” supper. I’m going to skip over the part where I directed us to the wrong terminal and nearly had a meltdown.

So long England. You were good to us. And, yes, we’d do this again 🙂

Heading north via Platform 9-3/4 to Newcastle. Thanks to a good friend Steven who purchased the rail tickets for us in England, we were able to travel first class. It was a 4 hour train ride; and gave us a chance to see the countryside while sipping on free beer, tea and WiFi. Looking out the window and seeing the expanse of rolling countryside turn into villages, towns and then cities — with the cows, sheep and spires — then back again — it was positively British.

Mom and Dad picked us up from the train station as they had arrived in Newcastle the week before to welcome Nick and Laura. We had attempted to be there all at the same time, but between school schedules, work schedules and logistics…it just wasn’t meant to be. Among the many disappointments; we never got to see Dad drive a rental minivan. The 20 minute drive from the Newcastle town center to the coast is as it always is for me: surreal and full of memories, seen through the rose-tinted glasses of a child.

Our first stop was 1 Whitton Gardens; the home of my Nana and where my Mom grew up and where my cousins and I spent many a Saturday wreaking havoc. It is a council row-house that has a total of 6 rooms and 1 bathroom. It’s still heated with coal and, yes, the hot water runs out. When I think about the “needs” we need to have in America; I think about the times this house slept and kept upwards of 12 people. I love walking in the door of that house. And I loved having my Nana meet Bill and Jack. As suspected, Jack quickly became the Prince of Lynn Estate. Ripping up newspaper in tinier and tinier pieces was met with “oh, lovely!”, putting his hands all over the TV became magically permissible and “ah, he’s a clever lad” was heard over and over again.

While I remember the cramped quarters of my Nana’s house fondly, it was decided that Bill, Jack and I would stay at Chateau Tear – just 5 minutes down the road – while we were in town. 8 The Crescent is as fabulous as its hosts. The Tears have been family friends of ours since before I was born; and, as a result, can make my parents drink and be merry like very few people can. This visit was no exception. While they technically don’t run a B&B, they are blessed enough to have friends the world over that insist on spending time with them. Lucky. One of the great things about their house is that it is in within walking distance to the beach and Tynemouth proper. This particular weekend was carnival weekend; so Tynemouth was abuzz. Wish I could say Bill and I took advantage of the pub scene but with Jack in bed by 7:30p, and us exhausted from so much fresh air, our pints were consumed during the day.

Our 4 day whirlwind included: visits to Alnwick Gardens and Castle, St. Mary’s Lighthouse, Tynemouth Beach and Priory, and a walk to the Fish Quay for Bacon. Plenty of time with Nana. And a quick trip to the “south” to meet up with the Stothard side of the family. Big thanks to Emma for organizing and choosing a pub! My Uncle Dave, Aunt Norah, Uncle Ken, Aunt Margaret, my cousins Emma and Simon, his lovely wife Helen who was mere days away from giving birth (rockstar) and Emma’s son Lewis were all able to be there. In between was filled with more Cadbury indulgence, and introducing Bill to real Indian food.

I consider myself a good packer. Bill and I can travel to Mexico for four days with one carry on suitcase. The trick with England in July is it can be 90 degrees, or 60…so even packing “layers” is sometimes a fail. It was 60 degrees and, as the forecasters would predict, “spotted showers” for our entire trip. Needless to say; all of our photos involve the same clothes; and, in Jack’s case the wonderful tourist look of socks with sandals. Here’s a sampling of our tour through the Northeast.

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It makes my heart happy knowing that Bill and Jack got to see that “part” of me. How blessed we are!

Part 2: London

Arrived safely and without fuss. My fabulous clients had arranged for us and David to have a driver take us into the city. They even had a car seat already in the car for us — strange thing being that in the UK a child of one year (and up) does not need to be rear-facing. When in Rome 🙂

London for me was work. I woke up and left before Jack did and was back at the hotel to change for dinner plans, seeing Bill and Jack for 15 minutes or so. On about the third night, while talking, we realized that they had discovered The Audley — a local pub about two streets from the hotel — and they were taking the “early” shift as patrons and the client team and I were there “after 8”.

The hotel was absolutely amazing — The Grosvenor House, on the edge of Hyde Park. Case in point: when walking to our room we see the entire hallway lined with stainless steel chests — apparently part of the Omani royal family move in every summer. Their security guards who patrolled certainly made me feel safe; or stalked. And, because this was a fancy hotel, they don’t get too many one-year-olds running around — as a result, Jack was the receiver of many affections from the wait staff and the Starbucks staff. Case in point: on the last day, the barista at the hotel Starbucks sent him away with a little stuffed Grosvenor House dog which I’m pretty sure had a price tag equivalent to $25. I suppose we spent more in coffee.

Bill was a rock star at being a single dad. Armed with a daily Starbucks from the hotel, a stroller and a London map, I think they walked at least 6 miles everyday. Definitely seeing London from a different angle than most tourists. And, because Dad isn’t an anxious mess in unfamiliar situations like Mom, Jack was his usual mellow self and fell right into his usual routine. Except for the one meltdown at the Tower of London; surely we remember that eating is and will always be a priority for the little man.

Each night, I was able to catch up on what they did that day by sifting through the photos in the camera…here’s a glimpse of Jack the Lad in London:

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With the Olympics just a little over a month away, and the memories of the Queen’s Jubilee from the month before, the city was in full swing. It was an awesome time to be there and experience a little national pride, which is usually hidden behind gloomy weather and grumblings of Parliament. Keep the bunting going England, it’s a good look on you.

Next up: how the common folk live, Newcastle.

Part 1: The beginning.

I’ve been blessed with a job that offers to take me to England every other year for the Farnborough Air Show. While there, I don’t get to do touristy things or see more than the hotel bar, the shuttle bus and the show venue — but I always tack on a couple days extra to visit family or just wander London. You know, indulging in “being British” — which, more often than not involves a Google search for the local Sainsbury’s and keeping the Cadbury family in business. Needless to say, one of the items on Bill and I’s bucket list was to visit “my hometown” together. And, then Jack was born, and I really wanted my Nana Doris to meet him; thus a plan was born. International travel with a 14 month old. Why not?

The itinerary:

London: 5 days
Newcastle: 4 days
York: 2 days

The carry-on essentials:

One stroller, one stroller rain cover (necessary for the lovely English summer we were entering into), one car seat, one very large carabiner, 5 lbs of children’s books, 2 laptops, 1 iPad, 1 camera bag, 1 suitcase and 1 diaper bag.

What was not packed was a change of clothes for Bill. Poor guy took one for the team in dealing with a dinner-time (pre-boarding, thank God!) blowout that managed to strip us of 95% of our Lysol wipe supply and render 4 articles of clothing to the bathroom garbage can. Thankfully, at the moment we discovered this indiscretion, David — my boss, and owner of the company, who we were traveling with — was away from the table checking to see if we could all enter the Delta SkyLounge. 15 minutes later Bill had a beer, I had a beer, and Jack had the iPhone. Disaster contained.

We have always been blessed with Jack going to sleep without much fuss — if he has his pacifier. So with pajamas on, a pacifier in his mouth and the lull of the airplane, he slept in his car seat like nothing was amiss. Thank goodness, as we had decided not to fly with baby Tylenol or other medication to knock him out. Next thing he knew we were in London. Between bad movies that we had to watch and the ridiculous drink and food service schedule, Bill and I didn’t fare quite as well.

Let the good times begin.

My first passport. Dashing.

June 4. Day 1. First day of daycare. The prestigious (-ly named) Vanguard Academy. I can’t say I’ve been waiting for this day since February 2011; but we have been on the waiting list since February 2011. Dropping him off was a breeze. I checked in, walked down the hall, opened the door. He saw a ball and I said “see you later”. That’s it. And, then, all day long I wondered what he was up to; and made sure everyone at work knew that I just dropped him off at daycare. for. the. first. time. ever. They all pretended to care; thank you.

I left work at 10 after 5; a respectable time until you factor in the weather phenomena: rain. Due to the rain, and several instances of going nowhere as the traffic light turned from red to green to red… I didn’t get there until exactly 6p. I may have called my mom and had a minor meltdown. He was the last one in there. I was that mom.

To top it off, he was the “added” kid as I – really should say we here, shouldn’t I? – didn’t turn in the paperwork beforehand. Wouldn’t be that big of a deal except when I looked at his report sheet, it reported that Jake had a good day. And his cubby hole had Jake Hauer on it. Ack, I just thought she had a thick southern accent, so didn’t correct her. Poor kid.

Best comment: “I gave him his food, turned around and when I turned back it was gone”. This is what was on the menu: bagel & cream cheese, chicken nuggets, carrots, rice, cheese & crackers — let’s be honest, I don’t think he has had that many carbs and so few veggies in his life. Of course he loved it.

Day 2. Dropped him off and let them know about “one minor detail” — his name is Jack, not Jake. The report card: Ben ate all of his hamburger and tater tots was happy and chatty. Ben also needs to bring in a picture of his family. I think I’m more upset about his lunch than about the name mix-up.

Day 3. I brought a picture of “Ben” and his family. And turned in yet another form with Again, details: his name is Jack. Report card: Jack was happy and chatty. Yay JACK! Jack ate all of his chili. I would be inclined to believe them if seemingly half of the chili wasn’t on his (not-any-longer) white shirt. Lesson #325 for the week.

Day 5. Blankets and crib sheets returned. Since this newbie daycare mom didn’t label any of his items prior to his first day of school, yep, they all had ‘Jake’ labeled on them in black sharpie. Awesome.

So blessed to have a great place to take him, sure he sheds tears when I leave him; but thinking he’s doing that to make me feel better considering the report card is always the same: Jack was happy. Jack was chatty. Jack ate ALL of his food. And then some more.

Thank you Miss Tatianna and Miss Ashley.

What a difference a year makes. We’ve had 365 days of this guy.

Latest stats:

• 28.5″ long  [1oth percentile]
• 19 lbs 1 oz.  [7th percentile]
• 3 haircuts
• at least 8 teeth
• says about 10 intelligible words and babbles the rest
• dark hair officially has turned a lovely shade of light brown

Jack is now walking; though we seem to hit a 8 step limit before he realizes he can get there faster if he crawls. Or he gets so pleased with himself that his legs can’t keep up with his excitement. I failed to write down when he took his first steps, but it was at least a week before his birthday.

He also gives real hugs; the ones where his little arms reach around your neck and give a little squeeze. And understands “bye-bye”. In fact, I pulled up in front of my parent’s house the other day and got him out of the car and he waved at me and said “bye-bye” — pretty sure this is directly related to his knowledge that he will get spoiled if I’m not there 🙂

We’ve also had the pleasure of some screaming fits and louder than necessary one-sided discussions. The inside-voice command has no meaning. I am trying the respectful “no sir” at each instance. I think he gets that is my Mommy voice. He, of course, usually follows this up with the strumming of the lips trick and a smile. Jack: 1. Mom: 0.

At a year old, he has successfully got us thinking there has never been and never will be a cuter kid. Job well done, son.

Somehow us out-of-towners have managed to embrace this little 2-minute fiasco called the Kentucky Derby. The semi-hostess in me and Bill’s penchant for cocktails along with promises of pork-on-pork have allowed us to have a nice little gathering for several years now. And this year; not only were we thankful for the awesome weather, we had guest appearances from Kim and Brandon and the Pinata (and, no, I did not name it Eight Belles, that would just be tacky).

I managed to take a few photos, none that well. Well, except this one.

Here’s the little man watching the races with Brandon. Thanks to the ever stylish Cooper Stockwell for the hand-me-down Derby outfit.

The draw. Whoever broke the pinata got to pick the horse they wanted; and after that it was random draw. Serious stuff.

Let it be known that:

– I actually cooked dinner this year.

– PSA: ScotchGuard your couches ladies and gentleman.

– I have now won the random draw for 2 years running. (and Bill won it the year before that). We may be getting a reputation.

– Last year we promised to name our son after the winning jockey – which we did – John. We made no such promises this year; though Mario isn’t so bad.

Cinco de Fiesta was absolutely fabulous.

So carefree, yet so serious.

That’s me.

My mom wants me to let you know

that the professional photographers

make this look easy.