You are loved.

You are adored.

You are needed.

You are our bestest sweetheart and daddy forever.

We love you!

Park Time

Ice Cream Time

Messy Time

Parade Time

“Airplane!!”

“Candy!”

“Mmmmmm. Candy.”

Porch Time

On Monday, our fifth day of travel, we decided to take a day trip to Windsor and visit Windsor Castle.

We activated our BritRail England passes and took the train from Waterloo Station to Windsor-Eaton. The advantage of buying the BritRail pass is that instead of buying a specific ticket for a specific train, you can arrive at the station and catch whatever train shows up next. It’s only good for a certain number of days but it’s flexible, which was nice for our family and our unpredictability.

Here we are as our train to Windsor pulled up.

The kids LOVED everything to do with the trains. (Even now, at home, Wes will sometimes say, “Train tonight” like he wants to go on a train.) Our train to Windsor was a good first overground train to ride because it wasn’t busy, and it wasn’t a long trip (under an hour).

I had been to Windsor as a BYU student ten years ago, but the experience was different this time. First, this time it was raining. And second, we had our kids to juggle. And by juggle, I mean take turns holding/swapping them in and out of the stroller while they slept.

At least Carissa is small enough still that we can carry her for a little while. We took turns. But John held her a lot.

This is a bird’s eye view of the castle:

We took pictures on the grounds, but photos weren’t allowed at all inside the castle. I guess that’s how they make so much money off their postcards and coffee table books. The grounds were lovely. I didn’t remember seeing such pretty gardens last time.

We saw royal guards up close.

(Must be such a boring job, standing there, totally still.)

In the first picture of the guards above notice the gentleman walking on the left–he was The Man with The Keys. Strollers aren’t allowed in Windsor Castle unless physically needed. When we passed through security before entrance, the nice lady looked at Wes in the stroller and asked if he needed to be in it. We said no. She asked, But would it be easier if he were in it? We said yes. So that’s where The Man with The Keys comes in. He let us in special doors openable only with his key that led us to elevators. I felt like we were going behind the scenes of Windsor Castle. But Wes had to stay in the stroller the whole time, which he didn’t like.

We saw some neat things:
– Queen Mary’s dollhouse

It’s a giant dollhouse that was built in the 1920’s to an exact 1:12 scale and includes miniatures of famous paintings, books, and china created by the artists, authors, and craftsmen especially for the doll house. It showcases a new gadget of the day–a vacuum–and the bathroom toilet even flushes. I don’t remember being especially interested in it ten years ago, but I thought it was pretty cool this time.

– St. George’s Hall

I remember seeing a special on PBS about the kitchens at Windsor Castle and all the work that goes into holding a royal banquet there. This is the hall where such banquets are held. It was cool to see it in person (minus the table and guests shown in this picture from the Internet). They measure each place setting and the distance between chairs precisely so it appears impeccably perfect. Nothing too good for the Queen.

After we finished at Windsor Castle we headed down the street for lunch. Windsor has such a pleasant shopping area, I wish we had more time to stroll. But lunch was fantastic, and it had mostly stopped raining.

We ate at The Drury House (“Windor’s Oldest Established Restaurant for Over 100 Years”). It was built in 1645.

It was small and cramped, but the food was good. It serves traditional British fare. I ate chicken pot pie, which was homemade and came with potatoes, carrots, and peas (the Brits eat peas with everything, it seems). Guy had fish and chips. Donee had yorkshire pudding. John had some sort of meat. Wes ate a salad, and Carissa had french fries (her go-to favorite).

It was tasty, but my favorite was the cream tea. In England tea is a common afternoon snack. It’s served nearly everywhere. Cream tea usually involves a pot of tea for one, a scone (American biscuit) or two, and strawberry jam with clotted cream (which is a cream as thick as sour cream, but mildly sweet). This was my first time ever enjoying afternoon tea (I can’t say I’m surprised I missed out on this as a BYU student; Mormons don’t do tea), and I loved it. We ordered peppermint tea, which is herbal. I love hot drinks, and I love scones, and I love clotted cream. A match made in heaven. John never really understood why afternoon tea is so great; it’s just not his thing. But Guy is a total herbal tea-head, so we made time for afternoon tea together other days after this. YUM. Probably one of my favorite English experiences.

We shopped a little and bought some Walker’s shortbread (so much cheaper than at our local grocery store in Utah), but we had to hurry to catch our train back to London.

Carissa relaxing on the way home.

That night we ate dinner across the river at Canary Wharf again (at Zizzi’s) and packed, preparing to check out of our hotel the next day and travel to Bath.

Our third day in England (fourth day of travel) was Sunday, so we went to church like usual.

The unusual thing was how long and how much effort it took to get there. I remember this from when I was a BYU student in London. I took two trains to get to the stop nearest the chapel (which was actually an elementary school) and then we had about a ten minute walk from there. It took a while and cost money.

Likewise, from our hotel in southeast London, since we decided to attend the Hyde Park ward (which is kind of the main LDS hub in London), we took the bus to the tube station, then took two underground trains to the South Kensington tube stop nearest the chapel. From there, we walked through a tunnel that leads from the tube stop to the Science Museum, which is directly across the road from the Hyde Park chapel. It took over an hour and we were late to church.

We weren’t the only late ones, though. We joined a small group of people waiting in the foyer to be admitted after the passing of the sacrament ended. The chapel was full so we ended up in the very back of the overflow in the cultural hall. The bishopric had to send men back to set up more chairs for us. We joined our stroller with about ten others lining the back wall of the cultural hall. (At least we have a British brand Maclaren, so it fit right in.)

The church is being remodeled in preparation for visitors during the 2012 Olympics. They’re updating the golden steeple on top, and inside in the foyer they’ve added a Christus statue…

…and multimedia presentations like “I Am A Mormon” videos.

After church we headed across the street and spent an hour at the Science Museum. I had walked past it so many times as a BYU student but had never gone inside (and it’s free).

Then we headed down Brompton Road towards the Knightsbridge area–home of world-famous Harrods department store.

It was a lovely day for a lovely walk, and Knightsbridge is one of the more beautiful parts of London.

Harrods is famous in part because of its motto: Omnia Omnibus Ubique–“All Things for All People, Everywhere.” And once you walk into its million-square-foot space, you know they’re not exaggerating. It’s impressive.

Harrods wasn’t really our typical Sunday-type activity, but it was so close to church that we decided to stop in, take a few pictures, breathe in the expensive air, and have lunch. It was one of my favorite memories from London.

We walked through the world-famous food market. This is just one small, small part.

Harrods has 32 restaurants alone. We ate our Mother’s Day feast at the Georgian.

I wish I had snapped a picture of the buffet. It was amazing. And delicious. And expensive. But my mother-in-law was treating, so we were able to enjoy it.

They had traditional British food like Yorkshire pudding. Everything was great, but the dessert was really great. Loved the chocolate mouse pops and bread pudding with warm custard. Some of our desserts:

From Harrods we took the tube to the British Museum. It’s famous for its ancient Greek and Roman artifacts and the Rosetta Stone (below).

Wes appreciating the history.

We didn’t spend so very long at the museum because we were all a little tired. From there we walked to nearby Russell Square park so the kids could run their wiggles out. I love that London has green parks everywhere. Gardens are very important to the British. This was a nice, peaceful park for a Sunday afternoon.

We took the tube from the Russel Square station and headed home. Carissa playing with Legos in our room.

And then it was time to begin our final full day stationed in London.

On our first full day in England we traveled to Westminster tube stop to see the sights of central historic London. Our hotel was on the south side of the Thames, on the east side of London, so we always started the day by catching a bus to the nearest tube stop (Canada Water Station) and then taking underground trains from there. We had an Oyster card, which is a prepaid travel card that we just swiped as we got on the bus and tube.

Carissa and Wes loved the train and bus. This is us waiting for the underground train to come on Day 4. (Isn’t Carissa so cute, sitting on that big chair with her legs straight out?)

Carissa became a resident expert on buses and started pointing out buses everywhere we went–and in London, there are a lot of buses!

We had lovely weather for our first day in London, and there were a lot of people out.

The London Eye, which was built about 10 years ago and skeptics thought would ruin the skyline and lose oodles of money.

Big Ben and Parliament.

Westminster Abbey.

The London streets and famous phone booths.

St. James Park, where we paused to let the kids run around and chase the pigeons.

We spent an hour or so at the Churchill War Rooms Museum, which is an underground bunker used by Churchill and military/political officials during WWII.

We passed some guards and horse guards.

No. 10 Downing Street, where the Prime Minister lives.

We walked past Trafalgar Square on our way to Covent Garden for lunch. That’s the National Portrait Gallery on the left behind the monument, and my personal favorite place in London to the right: the church St. Martin-in-the-Fields.

We ate lunch at Maxwell’s, an American-style restaurant. Wes got a chocolate milk shake.

Really, we might as well call this trip “The Vacation Wherein Wes Ate Ice Cream Every Day.”

But what are vacations for, if not to enjoy yourself?

We crashed around 6:30 pm the day we arrived in London, England. We were all dead tired. Our hotel room was set up for families with two bedrooms. We slept in one and the kids in the other.

Carissa woke up a few times, crying, and I went in to check on her around 9:30 and 10 pm. I last remember looking at my watch at 9:53 pm and seeing Wes asleep on the single bed when I looked in at Carissa in her crib.

At 12:30 am or so Carissa woke again, and when I checked her I thought she needed a diaper change. I pulled off her pants and turned to find a diaper. And that’s when I saw that Wesley’s bed was empty.

I didn’t have my contacts in and couldn’t see well in the dark, so I ran to the other room, got my glasses, came back and flipped on the light. I looked under the beds, everywhere, and he was nowhere. I started to panic.

I woke up John and he got dressed while I called the reception desk. I reported Wesley missing. I gave them his description and they told me they’d search the hotel. Meanwhile, John headed out to look and he asked me to do one more, thorough search of our room. I did, which included the balcony outside, but he definitely wasn’t in the room. And, thankfully, the balcony was the kind with solid cement walls that wouldn’t be easy for him to fall off of if he ended up out there (which he could have, because the balcony door DIDN’T HAVE A LOCK, and it was located in the room with two single beds–obviously meant for kids).

The London Hilton Docklands is an old, historic building with a weird layout. We were on the fourth floor near the elevator. You come up the elevator and you can choose to go straight through two heavy fire doors that lead to our room and two others, or you can turn right or left through glass doors that lead to other corridors and other rooms. All the rooms wrap around a big courtyard in the middle. It’s kind of a maze, typical of such an old building.

John went down the elevator to look for Wes. We’d only ever gone up and down the elevator, and Wes likes pushing the buttons, so it would make sense for him to try it. Although if he used the elevator, who knows which floor he’d get off on?

I wrapped Carissa in my cardigan (she still didn’t have on pants, and it was chilly outside) and I knocked on our neighbors’ doors. I’m sure they didn’t appreciate this at nearly 1 in the morning, but I did it anyway. Then I went through the glass door that leads down one corridor near the elevator, calling Wesley’s name.

I can’t even describe the fear, panic, and heartbreak I felt. I’ve never panicked like I did then. I’ve never worried like I did then. Anyone who knows Wes and our family knows that we have concerns about him wandering off and losing him. He’s just prone to it. A lot of people with Down syndrome are. I couldn’t believe my worst fear was happening.

What if he was hurt, or lost, or scared? What if someone had taken him and was hurting him? My heart broke at the thought. He is my precious, precious boy. I prayed a lot.

I started down one of the corridors leading away from the elevator, but I was doubtful he actually went that way. We had never pushed through those glass doors, and I thought he wouldn’t even notice them. I didn’t stay there long and decided to head down the elevator as well to continue looking.

The doors opened to the first floor and I instantly met the night manager, talking on his intercom. He was simultaneously speaking into the intercom while trying to tell me something, and he wasn’t doing a good job doing both. He said to me, “My colleague is–” and then he went back to the intercom: “You’re outside the room?” I just wanted him to spit it out, because obviously it was about Wes.

He finally told me that his colleague had located Wes, and that he was OK. I think I’ll leave out the part where I broke down into sobs of relief when he said this. We got into the elevator together and went back up to the room.

There was the hotel employee walking toward us, carrying Wes. He handed Wes to me and I hugged him. I think it upset Wes that I was crying, but I really could not help it. He was completely fine and safe. The employee had found him wandering around one of the corridors on our floor, so he had indeed pushed through one of the glass doors and found his way out. I don’t know how long he had been gone, but he wasn’t notably cold.

John, Carissa, Wes, and I returned to our room. We decided Wes had woken up, gotten out of bed and, not being familiar with the hotel room or where we were sleeping, headed out the door. We were so dead tired and deeply asleep that we just didn’t hear him.

How did he get out of a locked hotel door? The deadbolt on the door WAS BROKEN. We didn’t notice this when we had locked it earlier that evening.

So, how to get back to sleep at 2:30 in the morning when you don’t want to leave your kid unattended in his bed? You build barricades.

We became really adept at this at every hotel we stayed in over the course of our trip.

First thing in the morning we called maintenance and told them to come up and install a new deadbolt, which they did.

This really shook us up. We always try to keep track of our kids (what parent doesn’t?), but our anxiety and carefulness was definitely heightened.

In fact, when we returned home and walked into our own house, one of the first things Wes did was go downstairs to the basement to play with his toys that he missed. As soon as he was out of eyesight and gripping distance I felt anxious. I mentioned this to John, and he said he felt it too. We were just so used to making sure we always knew where he was and exactly what he was doing, but we had to tell ourselves it was OK for him to play in the safety of our own home again.

Never, NEVER want to go through that again.

On to day two in London.