Edinburgh

We are spending a few days in Edinburgh this week. It is the festival month and always a fun time to be here. Plus, there is always something to see or do here. Here is what I have gotten up to so far (with photographic evidence courtesy of my iphone):

Perused the Royal Mile & picked up some coffee at Starbucks
Got some free Mountain Dew Energy (which really tastes like Sprite)
Played in the Meadows...twice
Dentist appointments for all three of us
(no cavities in my mouth!)
Lunch with a friend
Went to Rosslyn Chapel...found out nothing about the Da Vinci Code
Bought tickets to 2 festival shows (one tonight, one tomorrow)

Connor enjoying the sites from Starbucks on the Royal Mile

Connor playing in the Meadows

Connor's adorable parents with him in the Meadows

Rosslyn Chapel (of the Da Vinci Code fame)

Connor at Rosslyn Chapel

Truthful Tuesdays

Now I know there is nothing new in this world...especially in the world of blogging. But somehow I came up with the idea of "Truthful Tuesdays". The idea popped into my head as I was thinking about beginning to divulge information about myself to you that many people may not know. So here you have it, without further ado, my first truth:

I am not a licensed driver.

It just happened. Sneaked up on me and happened. It hasn't always been so.

I got my driver's license on my 16th birthday. I have always loved to drive. In fact, I have always had a semi-obsession with cars. Then we moved to Scotland. For 2 years we didn't have a car. But, every time I went home for a visit, I drove. Right before Connor's birth (in fact on my due date) we bought a car. A couple months before that, Ian got his UK drivers license. And I technically hold a provisional drivers license over here (technically a learners permit). However, I have never driven over here. And I can never quite motivate myself to spend the time and money to get my drivers license...I easily get everywhere I need to go using my own two feet after all!

And my California driver's license, well that expired on my birthday. And it was one of those renewal years where I needed to go into the DMV to renew it. So, it expired.

Now, I do fully intend on renewing my California driver's license when I am home for Christmas. It makes me nervous though. What if I have to retake all the tests? The stuff I read online makes it sound like I just have to pass a small written test, as long as I don't let more than a year pass after the expiration. But still, wouldn't it be a bit funny if I had to take my behind the wheel test all over again? I know I would be nervous. Not as bad as when I was 16, but still...who really remembers which hand signal is for left and which is for right anyway?!?

So there you have it, how I became an un-licensed non-driver. Man, that makes me feel like an old lady!

Hotel Room Randomness

So, we are staying at a hotel in Glasgow for a business meeting Ian had to go to. In our room I was greeted with this:


Seriously, it just makes sense! And to make it even better, every switch in the room was like this. I loved that I didn't have to turn on every light in the room to get the one I wanted on.

And while I am on the subject of hotel rooms...

It seems that in Europe they don't allow you to control the temperature of your hotel room. I found this while we were on vacation in France and Italy and now here in Scotland. To me, the best part of staying in a hotel room is blasting the AC and cuddling up under all the covers. No such luck. Even with all the covers off and the AC supposedly on, I was hot last night...and it isn't like we are in a warm climate!

Oh well. At least there are some cool light switch covers to make me smile.

Kissing Cousins

I was with a group of people last night and the topic of conversation went to

affection toward family members

Between everyone there, the affection varied widely. From parents who never hug their children (so sad), to parents who kiss their children on the lips. And it was funny how everyone, for the most part, thought what their family did was acceptable.

Now I already have opinions on the matter at hand. We do not kiss Connor on the lips. To me, he is my child and I don't find that acceptable. Plus, I absolutely hate it when someone else's kid goes to kiss me and they want to kiss me on the lips. So not cool. I don't like baby slobber all over my mouth. Some may find it cute. I do not.

But back to kissing adult family members on the lips...

One of the guys told a story of the first time his mother-in-law kissed him on the lips...he tried to deflect, but she wouldn't let him and kissed his lips anyway. He was mortified. His wife was laughing as he was telling this story. And that got me thinking about my stance on the matter.

My lips are for Ian and him alone. I just don't think it is right to show the same affection to family members that you also show to your spouse. That is just weird.

But maybe, just maybe, that is just me. So I ask...

Anyone out there who kisses family members on the lips?

Have you done it since childhood?

Or perhaps, is there anyone who married into a family that affectionate?

And is there anyone out there like me, who it gives you the heebie-jeebies just thinking about kissing the in laws on the lips? (Sorry in laws...I like you, just not that way!)

Wordless Wednesday

9 Months

Weight: 18 lbs, 5 oz

Accomplishments:
Pulls himself to standing up
Walking holding on to things
Brushes his teeth
Mastered the art of a walker
Claps
A top tooth finally broke through!

I would like to say that the first 9 months out sure does go a lot quicker than the 9 months on the inside!

The world's most adorable baby is still holding strong around the 25th percentile for weight. It always makes me laugh when people comment about his size. I either get people saying, "Whoa, he is huge for his age!" or "Look at that small little fella." Its so funny. I think people always think they need to comment on a baby's size and I don't quite get it.

Connor is so friendly and smiley with people, but he is definitely a mama's boy. Sometimes he likes screaming bloody murder while someone else is holding him and will stop as soon as I take him...its so charming, and not a bit annoying!

He is the most active boy ever. In fact, at church on Sunday, I discovered he is a little too active for most parents! He was trying to crawl all over the little kids, pull their hair, poke their eyes...you get the picture. He is all boy! And now that Connor is so active he has the war wounds to prove it. When I took him to the doctor on Friday I was afraid they would think I abuse my child, given that he had 2 different bruises on his face! And that poor face (well, head included). It bears the brunt of Connor discovering the world. But he is enjoying himself and right now, that is really all that matters!

And for your viewing pleasure, a video clip of Connor enjoying some Cheerios:

Age is Just a Number

Over here in Scotland, people from various charities stand around on the sidewalks in the middle of town. They try to stop you to get you to sign up for monthly donations. In all honestly, it completely bugs me. I don't like random people trying to stop me. And on busy days, these people are literally every 10 feet along the sidewalk. It gets annoying having every one of them trying to talk to you. Now to my story...

Today I met a friend in town. While we were walking around, a guy from one of the charities approached me, shook my hand and asked my name. I told him while continuing to walk. He then proceeded to ask my age, to which I responded, "That's a little rude, don't you think?" as I walked away. At this point, my friend was laughing as the guy chased after me yelling, "Come on Jessica. Just talk to me!" I told my friend it annoyed me that he asked my age. Made me feel like I was a child or something. Later on, I asked another one of the charity workers why my age mattered and was told it was because you have to be over 18 in order to sign up to give money.

Honestly...do I look under 18? I know I look young, but I don't think so! Plus, I was pushing a baby...I know that doesn't mean much, but it should count for something. I don't even know why it got to me so much. I guess I just didn't like feeling as if I was being treated like a child. Oh well.