Diets and Daughters

I’m jealous of my daughter.

There. I’ve admitted it.

I’m jealous of the food she eats.

She doesn’t understand this, for two reasons.

First of all, she doesn’t want the food she eats, she wants ice cream. The food we serve her is well-prepared, well-balanced and varied. It includes protein, carbs, sauces and other goodness.

Second, she’s two.

The reason I’m jealous is that I’m on a diet. Continue reading “Diets and Daughters”


Diet Day Two

Someone make it stop.

  ~~ Me, this afternoon

The first few days of a diet are often the hardest. Looking up why this should be, I found a quasi-medical website that explains the hunger pains as “your body adapting to burning fat instead of sugar.”

So I plugged that into google and guess what came up?


It all makes sense now.

Continue reading “Diet Day Two”

Introduction to Japanese Cuisine

Tomorrow, my wife and I will start a diet that will result in having a very narrow selection of foods. In fact, we’ve already bought everything we need for the coming week.

In anticipation of this ordeal, we decided to enjoy our last day of culinary and gastronomic freedom by eating out for both lunch and dinner.

Our favourite Japanese restaurant being fully booked (it always is, it’s really annoying), we decided to try the restaurant at the newly-minted Japan House on Kensington High Street.

Continue reading “Introduction to Japanese Cuisine”

Freedom, Second Attempt

Last night, with great ceremony (again), I removed the bars on the side of V’s bed, allowing her to get in and out as she pleases.

I tried this once before. It didn’t work out that well.

I googled a lot, and realized that there isn’t really a lot of advice that applies universally. It did help to realize that I am treading in the sleep-deprived footsteps of many that came before me.

This time, the trigger came when V saw me pick up the Allen key as I was tidying a corner of her room. She recognized it immediately and said, “Papa enlever barreaux?” Which means Dad remove bars? and has to be imagined with childish pronunciation and a ridiculous level of cute. Continue reading “Freedom, Second Attempt”

Notes from the road

V reading Vogue

A Sign Of Things To Come?

I went to get a water in the Eurostar lounge, desperately hoping V wouldn’t do what she did last time we were here.

Last time, she thought the layout was perfectly suited to practice combined running and laughing and sprinted the length of the lounge repeatedly. The business travellers that generally populate the space were amused. For the first three minutes.

I needn’t have worried, she spotted a copy of Vogue and spent the next five minutes carefully tearing the front page. Then the exclaimed: “Oh! Cassé!”

Notes from the road

We went on a trek to the Petit Bateau shop near the Bon Marché because we really like the basics from that brand, and on the way home we walked past what passes for a square/park in Paris (a few hundred square feet of concrete with a couple of bushes).

What my feeble and short-sighted mind failed to grasp was the presence, in the middle of the square, of a playground.

Despite it not being visible from the road (at least when you’re more than 3 feet tall), V was all aflutter as soon as we were within range.

Park! Park! Park!

Given her elaborate and well-reasoned arguments, we agreed to stop so she could play.

It was a pretty decent playground, with the bigger version of the climbing frame she had played with the day before. It said, “Age range 3 to 7,” on the side of the frame, but this two year old was having none of it and climbed the ladder to get to the top of the slide with an agility that would have put Spider-Man to shame.

Surrounding the playground on every bench and horizontal surface were teenagers in varying degrees of elegance, certainly from a local school. Our position in the middle of the space gave us an interesting vantage point from which to witness the various cliques and clubs that comprised the student body. It was the second time this weekend that a playground moment had made me think of Gossip Girl.

Not that I admit to ever having watched that show. Obviously.