It's the start of the holiday season, and the cacahuète and I are now on our second trip to the US. Much like last time, jet lag has wreaked havoc on our sleep schedule. I say "our" because when the peanut wants to play at 2 am in the morning, I have to be there to amuse him. Such is the price we must pay for our wandering lifestyle, I suppose.
On the whole, I cannot complain, I suppose, as our little cacahuète is a seasoned little traveller by now. He is not at all fazed by the airport security routine, and gets very flirty and happy when security personnel hold him while I gather our things. And somehow he manages to make friends with the people seated around us on the airplane.
For those of you who may be flying internationally with a baby, I highly recommend Virgin Atlantic. They have new cots for babies that are bigger and more comfortable than the traditional skycots, and they have jars of baby food on board. It was reassuring to know that even if the food I had prepared for the trip was confiscated at security, the peanut would still be able to eat. Not to mention that the flight attendants gave us a big bottle of water so I would not have to get up in the middle of the flight with the baby if I got thirsty or if I had a problem with the water I had brought on board for formula.
My only gripe is that our pram was not available when we deplaned, and I had to go through immigration and to wait for the luggage (and the pram) holding a 21-pound baby. Not fun, but at least I know that nex time I will have to make doubly sure that the pram is properly gate-checked.
Our next international flight is to Uruguay in a couple of weeks. Thankfully, Diego will be joining us for that one. And I'm less concerned about the peanut not behaving on this flight because the Christmas flights to South America are full of families with screaming babies. What better way to get into the holiday spirit than to be in a small, confined space with crying babies for 10 hours? Happy Holidays!
vendredi 11 décembre 2009
mardi 15 septembre 2009
Frequent Vacationers
We just got back from our first family vacation. With a new baby to cart along and the weak pound, we decided to stay in the UK and took the train to St. Ives in Cornwall. I know that a lot of Brits like to go abroad because they believe the food and weather are better just about everywhere else. But on the whole, we heartily recommend St. Ives.
We ate amazing food:
Well, we have no pics of our food, but can assure you that the seafood, especially the local mussels, scallops and crab were delicious. The mussels, in particular, reminded us of the type they have in Uruguay: soft and not at all grainy.
We had a lot of tasty local wines:
I know you are thinking “English wine??!!” because we thought that too. But, we plucked up our courage and decided to follow the advice of the old advertisement that stated “The best golfer in the world is black, the best rapper in the world is white, and the best sailors in the world are Swiss. Now is the time to try English wine.”
The verdict? The wine was actually drinkable. Better than drinkable, in fact. It was good! The wine above reminded me of German Rieslings and was fruity but not sweet. We also had a sparkling wine by the same maker, which was crisp and clean. Overall, English wines (at least the whites) are definitely worth trying, if only for the adventure factor.
Last, we also spent some time on the local beaches. The weather was not warm enough to really spend time in the ocean, but Diego could not resist taking a dip in the balmy 14°C water:
Were it not for the occasional rainstorm, it almost didn't feel like England at all!
In typical Maki et Diego fashion, our first family vacation is over, but we won’t be staying put for long. The cacahuète and I are flying to Miami to visit the grandparents.
I’m excited that we will be spending quality time with our families, but I am also nervous about dealing with the hassle of the airport and the 9-hour flight with a small baby in tow. Not to mention that the effect of jet lag on a 5-month old who has only recently started sleeping through the night...somehow, I knew he’d start to sleep through the night shortly before we were due to start crossing time zones. But, hey, at least he has beat the family record for youngest frequent flyer.
We ate amazing food:
Well, we have no pics of our food, but can assure you that the seafood, especially the local mussels, scallops and crab were delicious. The mussels, in particular, reminded us of the type they have in Uruguay: soft and not at all grainy.
We had a lot of tasty local wines:
I know you are thinking “English wine??!!” because we thought that too. But, we plucked up our courage and decided to follow the advice of the old advertisement that stated “The best golfer in the world is black, the best rapper in the world is white, and the best sailors in the world are Swiss. Now is the time to try English wine.”
The verdict? The wine was actually drinkable. Better than drinkable, in fact. It was good! The wine above reminded me of German Rieslings and was fruity but not sweet. We also had a sparkling wine by the same maker, which was crisp and clean. Overall, English wines (at least the whites) are definitely worth trying, if only for the adventure factor.
Last, we also spent some time on the local beaches. The weather was not warm enough to really spend time in the ocean, but Diego could not resist taking a dip in the balmy 14°C water:
Were it not for the occasional rainstorm, it almost didn't feel like England at all!
In typical Maki et Diego fashion, our first family vacation is over, but we won’t be staying put for long. The cacahuète and I are flying to Miami to visit the grandparents.
I’m excited that we will be spending quality time with our families, but I am also nervous about dealing with the hassle of the airport and the 9-hour flight with a small baby in tow. Not to mention that the effect of jet lag on a 5-month old who has only recently started sleeping through the night...somehow, I knew he’d start to sleep through the night shortly before we were due to start crossing time zones. But, hey, at least he has beat the family record for youngest frequent flyer.
lundi 31 août 2009
NHS Hospital Delivers Baby Safely
I know, I know, we have been very much out of touch. I promise that we have a good reason, though: our little globe-trotting cacahuète was born in mid-April. In the months following the birth, it felt like we were running a hotel, as grandparents, aunts, and cousins from near and far came to meet the newest family member. I have also gotten very involved in the local baby circuit, hanging out with other new mums in the local area parks. Bring on the power-pramming!
You might remember that when I was pregnant, I blogged that I was concerned about having a baby in the NHS. I really needn't have worried as the hospital staff was very knowledgeable and efficient. Even when things got a bit dicey right before the peanut's grand appearance, the midwives, doctors and nurses were in control of the situation. And for a couple of weeks after the birth, I had midwives and health visitors coming to my living room to check on us both. It was great to have medical professionals visit us at home, since it took me a few weeks to feel like I could venture outside the house with the always-hungry and insatiable peanut.
While Joe the Plumber might be surprised to hear of my positive experience having a baby in the NHS, Stephen Hawking would find nothing unusual in it. Indeed, like most Brits, he would likely be amused at my amazement that health care here is free. I understand that it is our tax pound that pays for nationalized health care, but taxes here are not much higher than they were in the US, which makes me think that we are getting a good deal overall.
Additionally, supposing that I was utterly distrustful of the NHS, I still have the option of seeing doctors and specialists on a private basis. In short, if I want to pay for extra service, I am free to do so. But if I - like most of the uninsured Americans - cannot afford to pay for private health care, I can use the national medical system. As a new parent, it is comforting to know that no matter what happens to us job-wise, the peanut can still see a doctor. And politics aside, fundamentally, it's all about taking care of peanuts, isn't it?
That said, it does feel a bit like I'm missing out on all the fun of the health care debate back in the US. Maybe I can say we've been too busy dealing with all the death panels, health rationing and socialism. But, like Stephen Hawking, the cacahuète and I are alive and healthy in spite of it all, so there you go.
You might remember that when I was pregnant, I blogged that I was concerned about having a baby in the NHS. I really needn't have worried as the hospital staff was very knowledgeable and efficient. Even when things got a bit dicey right before the peanut's grand appearance, the midwives, doctors and nurses were in control of the situation. And for a couple of weeks after the birth, I had midwives and health visitors coming to my living room to check on us both. It was great to have medical professionals visit us at home, since it took me a few weeks to feel like I could venture outside the house with the always-hungry and insatiable peanut.
While Joe the Plumber might be surprised to hear of my positive experience having a baby in the NHS, Stephen Hawking would find nothing unusual in it. Indeed, like most Brits, he would likely be amused at my amazement that health care here is free. I understand that it is our tax pound that pays for nationalized health care, but taxes here are not much higher than they were in the US, which makes me think that we are getting a good deal overall.
Additionally, supposing that I was utterly distrustful of the NHS, I still have the option of seeing doctors and specialists on a private basis. In short, if I want to pay for extra service, I am free to do so. But if I - like most of the uninsured Americans - cannot afford to pay for private health care, I can use the national medical system. As a new parent, it is comforting to know that no matter what happens to us job-wise, the peanut can still see a doctor. And politics aside, fundamentally, it's all about taking care of peanuts, isn't it?
That said, it does feel a bit like I'm missing out on all the fun of the health care debate back in the US. Maybe I can say we've been too busy dealing with all the death panels, health rationing and socialism. But, like Stephen Hawking, the cacahuète and I are alive and healthy in spite of it all, so there you go.
dimanche 5 avril 2009
Just Divine
Last weekend we saw the following advert for a company that rents IT equipment:
Yes, that's a picture of Hugh Grant after he was arrested in 1995 for asking Hollywood prostitute Divine Brown for oral sex. My favorite part of the advert? The caption at the bottom that states the company provides "service that will blow you away."
Yes, that's a picture of Hugh Grant after he was arrested in 1995 for asking Hollywood prostitute Divine Brown for oral sex. My favorite part of the advert? The caption at the bottom that states the company provides "service that will blow you away."
mercredi 1 avril 2009
Burnin' and a-lootin' at the G-20
Diego here. Back again. I know we haven't been keeping up the blog lately, so sorry. Those who know understand that there are other things on our minds lately. Also, for me, the humdrum of the day to day routine saps me of my creative energy sometimes, so there you go.
Luckily for me, the humdrum routine was broken today. The G-20 pow-wow is going on in London tomorrow, the big O is in town and today there were protests planned throughout the city. The City (financial district) was a particular target today. That's where I work. Several days ago, the HR department sent out an e-mail advising us to dress down since some of these anarchists might target suits for violence. I had seen on the Evening Standard that Moorgate station, right by my work, was supposed to be the gathering place for one of the marches. So off I went this morning, dressed in the scruffiest getup I could find along with my Fidel Castro looking hat, thinking that if push came to shove I could raise my fists in the air and pretend to be a protester.
By mid morning, Moorgate was full of police vans and officers in every direction. All my bored colleagues kept staring out the windows waiting for something to happen, and waiting...and waiting. Nothing. Just a lot of cops. Hey, what can I say, when you work in a cubicle farm, you value any little bit of excitement that comes your way!
At lunchtime, a colleague and myself decided to go have a wander and catch some of the action. We walked down by the Bank of England where the protesters had gathered. The police had sealed most of the area off, but we managed to sneak in to a small, crowded area. I'd say there were about two cops for every activist there, and furthermore about 2 gawkers for every cop. Yes, it was so easy to tell that most of the people around me were bored office workers in casual attire, just like myself, trying to see what all the fuss was. Oh, and the place was swarming with journalists. Cameras everywhere. I'm surprised there actually are that many photojournalists in London. I guess those are the guys that follow celebrities and the royal family around when there are no G-20 protests. At one point I saw a guy spray-painting some graffitti on the pavement and there were no less than 4 media people taking his picture. Talk about exposure!
After that, we headed to the carbon exchange where the environmentalists were protesting. Also a lot of cops and journalists but there was much more of a party atmosphere going on. There was a sound system blasting music and a bunch of trippy hippies dancing to it. The loudest cries of protest I heard were whenever the music was switched off. No angry speeches. No manifesto. It felt like a very pleasant block party but a rather useless protest.
That was it. Totally overhyped and anticlimactic. I managed to get a few snaps on my way home. They are appropriately boring:
Luckily for me, the humdrum routine was broken today. The G-20 pow-wow is going on in London tomorrow, the big O is in town and today there were protests planned throughout the city. The City (financial district) was a particular target today. That's where I work. Several days ago, the HR department sent out an e-mail advising us to dress down since some of these anarchists might target suits for violence. I had seen on the Evening Standard that Moorgate station, right by my work, was supposed to be the gathering place for one of the marches. So off I went this morning, dressed in the scruffiest getup I could find along with my Fidel Castro looking hat, thinking that if push came to shove I could raise my fists in the air and pretend to be a protester.
By mid morning, Moorgate was full of police vans and officers in every direction. All my bored colleagues kept staring out the windows waiting for something to happen, and waiting...and waiting. Nothing. Just a lot of cops. Hey, what can I say, when you work in a cubicle farm, you value any little bit of excitement that comes your way!
At lunchtime, a colleague and myself decided to go have a wander and catch some of the action. We walked down by the Bank of England where the protesters had gathered. The police had sealed most of the area off, but we managed to sneak in to a small, crowded area. I'd say there were about two cops for every activist there, and furthermore about 2 gawkers for every cop. Yes, it was so easy to tell that most of the people around me were bored office workers in casual attire, just like myself, trying to see what all the fuss was. Oh, and the place was swarming with journalists. Cameras everywhere. I'm surprised there actually are that many photojournalists in London. I guess those are the guys that follow celebrities and the royal family around when there are no G-20 protests. At one point I saw a guy spray-painting some graffitti on the pavement and there were no less than 4 media people taking his picture. Talk about exposure!
After that, we headed to the carbon exchange where the environmentalists were protesting. Also a lot of cops and journalists but there was much more of a party atmosphere going on. There was a sound system blasting music and a bunch of trippy hippies dancing to it. The loudest cries of protest I heard were whenever the music was switched off. No angry speeches. No manifesto. It felt like a very pleasant block party but a rather useless protest.
That was it. Totally overhyped and anticlimactic. I managed to get a few snaps on my way home. They are appropriately boring:
jeudi 12 février 2009
Dettol
One thing Diego and I have noticed is that each country has its own cleaning products and those cleaning products are not available in every country. For example, in France, we had a hard time finding Oxyclean, a crucial product when you spill as much red wine as we do. Luckily, Diego’s Mom was able to bring a Costco-sized box of the white powder in her luggage when she came to visit us (and surprisingly she was never questioned about the contents of her luggage when going through the airport). Instead of Oxyclean, red-wine spillers in France have to make do with a transparent liquid called detacheur that sometimes manages to remove the stain and sometimes doesn’t.
Here in the UK, the locals seem quite fond of a cleaning product called Dettol that looks and smells a lot like Pine-Sol.
According to the package, Dettol is an antiseptic disinfectant, again, much like Pine-Sol. What makes Dettol different than Pine-Sol is the variety of uses it has.
Dettol does not just clean floors, bathrooms, and countertops. No, that would be too pedestrian. According to the package label, Dettol can also be used “for personal hygiene” by pouring 1-2 capfuls in the bath. Indeed, according to the March Marie Claire, some women even use it for douching! (though the doctor interviewed did warn that it upsets the healthy balance of bacteria).
Not only can you use this Pine-Sol equivalent to freshen your bath, Dettol also has “medical uses,” including an disinfecting wash on cuts, bites, abrasions, and insect stings.
Even more disconcerting, Dettol can also be used for “midwifery.” Yes, that’s right folks, you can use Pine-Sol when birthin’ babies! The midwifery instructions state to pour “1 capful in 500 ml (approx. 2 cups) of water (1 part in 40) for routine antisepsis.” I’m not sure why one needs a liquid cleaner diluted in water during the birthing process. Is it to clean Mum . . . or baby? Is it to clean the stuff in the birthing room? I have no idea, but frankly, I’m scared that come April, I’m going to be in massive, painful labor, and a midwife will approach me, all smiles, armed a bottle of Dettol instead of an epidural.
Here in the UK, the locals seem quite fond of a cleaning product called Dettol that looks and smells a lot like Pine-Sol.
According to the package, Dettol is an antiseptic disinfectant, again, much like Pine-Sol. What makes Dettol different than Pine-Sol is the variety of uses it has.
Dettol does not just clean floors, bathrooms, and countertops. No, that would be too pedestrian. According to the package label, Dettol can also be used “for personal hygiene” by pouring 1-2 capfuls in the bath. Indeed, according to the March Marie Claire, some women even use it for douching! (though the doctor interviewed did warn that it upsets the healthy balance of bacteria).
Not only can you use this Pine-Sol equivalent to freshen your bath, Dettol also has “medical uses,” including an disinfecting wash on cuts, bites, abrasions, and insect stings.
Even more disconcerting, Dettol can also be used for “midwifery.” Yes, that’s right folks, you can use Pine-Sol when birthin’ babies! The midwifery instructions state to pour “1 capful in 500 ml (approx. 2 cups) of water (1 part in 40) for routine antisepsis.” I’m not sure why one needs a liquid cleaner diluted in water during the birthing process. Is it to clean Mum . . . or baby? Is it to clean the stuff in the birthing room? I have no idea, but frankly, I’m scared that come April, I’m going to be in massive, painful labor, and a midwife will approach me, all smiles, armed a bottle of Dettol instead of an epidural.
lundi 2 février 2009
Snow Day
It's the worst snowfall in 18 years in Southeast England, and it sure makes me glad to be admiring the view from inside.
The view from our living and dining area:
Our street:
The view from our living and dining area:
Our street:
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