Walking update.

Image: Days old Ro, hooked on standing up constantly.

I have this neurosis about Ro. And him not walking yet. I never put that onto him or force him to walk; I've always been a relaxed parent and I like to think I have encouraged his development rather than forced it.


After all, he can say coherent words that other people understand, can string together sentences of two to three words so I am pretty happy. And blessed. 


However, he isn't walking.


I know it will be fine. I know everything's well. But he is my first child. Go easy on me in the comments ;). Please don't tell me "not to worry" because I am not worried. I don't think I ever worry unless I have reason to worry...and seriously? Telling a Mama 'not to worry', who are you trying to kid?


I'm more in distress or turmoil over his non-walking state because there are babies months younger than him happily toddling around on two legs meanwhile he's happy to scamp around crawling. Little monkey.


Both me and B were 10 months when we were walking so I am wondering where this rogue non walking gene has come from and have vague recollections of stories about my Mum's Dad (who I never met as he died when she was 12) and the fact he didn't walk until he was around two years old. My Gran also says Ro resembles my Granpa Scott, so there we have it. A rogue gene from a man I only know about from a few photos and a few hundred stories. Case solved, I think.


Ro is happy to toddle around on his knees and I am not going to stop him. I am going to encourage whatever he wants to do and if every other kid in the World is walking, dancing, twirling and running before him, let them. Um...well, you know, if he's not walking before Christmas then I am probably going to be worried, but you know...till then he can keep scamping around the floor, picking up bits of random fluff, offering them up to me and saying; "FANK CHOO!" 


And amongst the viruses we've all had, the recurring night sweats I've had, the meals not consumed and the housework gone eternally undone someone decided they might want to join this two footed World of nonsense after all...

Image: He was constantly sitting down and standing like this for ages.

Thank you for keeping my neurosis under control by standing for me, Ro!

And yes, as you can see, I wasn't joking about that 'housework eternally undone' statement.

Bad Week.

We had to go to the hospital on Wednesday.


I wasn't too scared because the doctor hadn't ordered an ambulance but I was scared at the urgency he wanted us at the Children's Ward. I promised myself that no matter what I would be there through every and any horrible procedure. It wasn't about me, it was about my son and he needed my strength. I haven't always been so stringent about these things as I couldn't be in the room when, at a few days old, he had a heel prick Guthrie test. Stupid, really, after all we'd just been through together with his birth.


B was of course there, along with his parents.


Things moved slowly but quicker than any time I have been to hospital and every time a doctor or nurse came into the room they did a good job at reassuring us.


Luckily I'd had the foresight to pack an overnight bag - but guess what? We had an awesome doctor (who is the second person to pick up on Ro's Umbilical hernia) who was confident about sending us home, along with the ward telephone number and an absolute assurance from us that we'd call if he got worse - which is a given.


I was beginning to get comfortable living with these two healthy people; happy in the fact that we don't have to rush to hospital, get blood drawn or be scared half to death with the disease of every parent's nightmares. 


I don't think smugness is chastised but I do think that I need to stop getting comfortable in all these temporary situations in life when everything can change in a minute.

A Note: 365 Policy.

I have made a big decision over the past couple of days.


My focus for this blog has changed. I want shorter posts and more photographs. I want it to be a 'check-in' spot rather than a complete observation of life. It has evolved far beyond what I expected and I'm massively over whelmed by followers from all around the World and all the support and comments that have come with.


The reasons for shorter posts? I want to give some of me back to my son and husband. I'm already a very busy person and I want to keep writing but I'm going to keep things shorter. 


Now, if you want too, follow me by all means - say you read this blog and you're too shy to follow, go ahead and click HERE to follow. I promise, I don't bite :). But Roman might...


And also, I'm really considering giving up being on Top Baby Blogs. I've seen some amazing blogs through that site but honestly? I always feel so inadequate when I realise I'm on page 6 or 7. I thought I was past feeling that way about anything but it turns out I want to be popular, too!  



Well, popularity doesn't mean I will suddenly be any happier or better off. In fact I know I won't be any better off. The fact remains that those who are way ahead of me on there just have more people voting for them - and they may even be better than me, I don't know. But what I do know is that I don't want to keep feeling anything less than incredible. So I shall mull it over.


Of course, until then, feel absolutely free to vote for me - I won't be upset. See, I'm Quinn Fabray, still trying to be Prom Queen ;).

Pretty Little...

In my quest for a new camera, I came across this pretty lookin' thing (pictured above.) Totally not what I'm looking for but I can't help talking myself into reasons why I should have a handy compact camera to take out when we're on the go...


Thing is I don't want a compact camera. It's a downgrade. And I want interchangeable lenses on a camera because I want to be able to take photos the way I like - instead of compromising with what I have now. 


But this little camera looks adorable. And perhaps I could just buy it...after all, it's in the sale!

We Have a WINNER!

The Frosted Crossbones Give-away is over and we have a winner!

Well done Elizabeth :).

You said:

Drop me an email here with your snail mail address and I will have it sent to you forth with :).

Fathers Day.

Today is B's second year running as a Dad. I feel so lucky that we can say that. I feel a tightening around my heart when I read stories of parent's who lose their children and feel very grateful indeed on day's like today.

It's genetic...

B is always busy with Roman, they are indeed the best of friends. I always pictured myself being the maniac with the buggy; trying to run last minute errands, get to places and all the while be ensuring the happiness and healthiness of the child I'd have. But we all know how that turned out. It worked out differently. B is the sole child carer. It works and we are happy so that's all that matters.

It doesn't matter that you pictured life differently and it doesn't even matter that you'd do things differently if you were able to change the circumstances. What matters is now. And happiness. And family. And days that we can celebrate the fact we are parents. That we pulled through for another year. 

Happy Fathers Day to all the Dad's; new, experienced, old, young, biological, loving and loved.

A Little Piece of Scotland: Words.

I was born, bred and buttered (har, har) in Scotland. 

I love this country; green fields, endless amounts of sheep, cows and other farm animals dotted across the land scape. And with animals comes their manure. And the smell of that manure in the air every year the farmers decide to spray the fields. From childhood the smells of Scotland were wood burning and wet leaves, soaked from the rain. The sounds of Scotland were of course the bagpipes bursting out in their almost tuneless notes across Princes Street.

 

The sights, well the sights of Scotland are so much harder to describe. Hence why I took a lot of pictures growing up and wanted a camera as soon as I could get one. 

It never ceases to stun me that so many people visiting Scotland have a lot of lovely things to say about this country that's my home. And it didn't surprise me that when I lived in London that I was very homesick. I missed families poking fun at each other to the point of viciousness (it's just our way of saying "I love you"), I missed the smell of grease floating from the chippies placed on nearly every street corner, I missed chippie sauce (and I still do!), I missed banter, I missed the accent, my parents, my family and my friends.

I remember a phone call to my Dad where I broke down and admitted just how homesick I was. His reply? "Oh Cara, it doesn't matter where in the World you live, in your heart you'll always be a Scottish lassie." And yes, he did use those words. Oh yeah and in case you've been living under a rock lassie means girl. 


I don't use a lot of Scottish slang, and there are so many different dialects that it's hard to keep up with all the slang words, but I thought it would be fun to write down a few slang words commonly used.


Aye - Yes. This is probably used the most. I even use it. Nearly every day. 
Naw/Nut - No. Again, very heavily used. 
Laddie - Boy. When I was in High School I used to use this nearly every day, now it's rare when I use it. I usually say it when I'm not thinking about what I'm saying as I think it sounds a little corny and Brigadoon-ish.
Cludgie - Toilet. 
Egit - Idiot. Heavily used by me ;).
Jobbie - Poo. Ha. Yeah this one is used by EVERYONE. When I was in labour the midwife instructed me to "push down really hard, like you're doing a big massive jobbie." Haha. We use this word every single day. I rarely ever say poo or poop. 
Tatties - Potato. 
Tatty scone - Potato scone.
Sybies - Spring Onion/Green Onion. I have only heard a handful of people (usually West Coast of Scotland) say this one.
Ya - You

Wee - Small. Trust me when I say that this is an all purpose kind of word. I recently got an Amazon £20 voucher and I exclaimed "Ya wee beauty!" - in short, this phrase means YABBA DABBA DO. Or you know, YAY! But yay doesn't cut it in Scotland, you need something with more effect. Wee is also used as a measurement of time in Scotland. As in "I'm going to be a wee minute." Or as a measurement; "Just give me a wee bit of that cake."

Tink, mink, scaff - someone unclean/poor. If someone does something rank (is rank a Scottish word, too?) then you might hear a Scottish someone saying "Ya wee mink!" 

Bum/Arse/Bahookie - Butt/Behind. I love that we have such a strong need for toilet humour in this country.

Gonnae - Going to. Pronounced: go-nay. 

Leathered - A beating. As in: "Am gonnae leather you after school!"

Braw - Good. I actually find this word very charming. "Aye it's pure braw!" Haha. We also might add "pure" on the start of the braw to emphasise the greatness of something. 

Ma - My and Mother. 

Ned - Stands for Non Educated Delinquent.

I'm suddenly stuck thinking of words and all I can now think of is rude Scottish words. So, I present to you a little snippet of my accent - sidenote: when my Sister in Law arrived in Scotland she found it hard to understand a lot of what I said, so I asked her, in the slowest voice I could muster; "do you find it hard to understand my accent?" She looked a lot confused and said; "whose Max Cent?" hahaha.

Enjoy: 

P.S: I have this picture rested on my windowsill in the living room and Roman spent a good time yesterday pointing from my Gran (his great Gran) to himself, laughing and cooing at it. Then he pulled it down and started stroking the picture. 

P.P.S: Remember I am doing a kick arse ;) give away! HERE.

Without Me

This picture makes sense when you read what I have to say.

Do you ever wonder how the World would be without you?

I used to think about this a lot as a teen. A lot. Maybe even as a smaller kid, too. But mostly as a teen as I became aware of the fact that I wasn't going to be a rising super star - and after all, what exactly were my talents? I don't think a wicked laugh and 'being good at doing nails' count as talents exactly.


So somewhere down the line I got thinking about the World - and my little World made up of friends, family, people at church and acquittance's - without me in it.


As a parent I have become so much more aware of what that World would be like. For a start nobody would feel the pain that so many do over a death. Pain is felt in death because there is a wound fresh on your heart, the pain is still so raw because you've spent a portion of that person's life loving them and even in death, you still love them. Everything is there, but mostly memories are there and they're as real and as sore as a burn you would catch off the flame on your stove.


If a person never came to be then there would be zero memories. Not a bean. Nothing. No impact, no memories made. If I had never been born, I wouldn't be missed. 


My impact on this planet feels so small right now. I often think to myself that if I died it would be the same as had I never existed or came into my body. Then I remember that Roman would be greatly effected. Or at least nearly everyone I know whose been unfortunate enough to lose a parent is greatly effected. Bryan could remarry no problem and I honestly believe given time he would completely heal. But Roman? Whole different story for me.


I don't think he'd be in mourning for his whole life, don't get me wrong, but I think to myself that he wouldn't be better off without me. Not because I think highly of myself but because I bring a dynamic to his life that Bryan can't provide on his own. After all I'm bringing my own life experiences, weaknesses, failings, strengths and successes into parenthood and no one has had those experiences but me. In my own way. In preparation. 


It humbles and amazes me to think that because I came to be, so did he. And sometimes that's enough to wipe out the feelings and doubts I have about myself. Truly.


But then there are minutes, days and weeks like this week where all I felt like doing was pulling a big sheet over my head and locking out the World. Feelings of giving up. Many tears shed. Major doubts about everything I am doing. Thinking I am doing everything wrong; photos, my diet, writing, things I say to others, things I don't say to others. And feeling very lonely and trapped in it all. And all the while worrying if this is what a breakdown feels like. And then reminding myself if I am thinking 'is this what a breakdown feels like?' then I am probably not having a breakdown.


And I know come Sunday, or Monday, the clouds will part to reveal another blue sky, full of possibility and promise until the next time where everything seems to be raining down from a great height.


This post was brought to you by my Psyche. You can thank her in the form of comments.

Roman's Fathers Day gift.

Yesterday we had a delivery.

 B has been driving me up the wall since last week about his kettlebell. I've had chapter and verse on this little (it's actually quite heavy and bigger than I thought) contraption.

Anyway, I don't care how big it is or that it seems mighty unsteady, I'm just glad it's here.

I have my husband back to some kind of normality and relatively content. 

Which is more than can be said about me after Sunday's hair cutting fiasco. Yeah, as you can tell, we have a Mini G.I Joe in our midst. I'm still coming to terms with his shorn locks - and I don't care if my Dad says it makes him look 'grown up' as he was the one who took my 18 month (or was it 2 year old?) old brother to the barbers and tell them he wanted a number one all over. My Mum didn't even recognise her own son when she saw what my Dad had done. I think I had the same reaction on Sunday only I caught B half way through the hair cut - with lots of shrieking and tears from the Boy - only to realise he'd have to keep going. 

Anyway, his head feels like a jaggy, fuzzy peach. He wasn't a bald baby so I'm not used to it at all; I'm used to wild, free flowing mind-of-it's-own kind of hair. And I've also grown a very thick, almost reptilian, layer of skin when it comes to the personal crap people say to me about my own son. 

"Oh! Are you not giving him a hair cut?" No, we're never cutting it EVER! In fact he's going to be a giant hair monster. Didn't we tell you? Oh yeah, we never, because it's none of your business ;). 

So, hair aside, the kettle bell was Roman's Fathers Day present to B. When I quizzed him about what he'd like some weeks ago he replied; "A really nice knife." Concerned that he was a serial killer while I slept, I gave him The Look and asked why a knife. "I hate our knives, they're crap," he replied. "So I'd really like a nice, good, sharp knife for Father's Day."

I found this really odd because before we were married B made a comment about appliances as presents (he won't remember but I do.) I can't remember our conversation, but it was about rubbish gifts people might buy each other (of which I have never been a recipient I'm glad to say) and B pipes up with; "That's about as clever as getting your wife a hoover (vacuum) for Christmas." That comment made my year because B is like me, he get's the whole gift thing and he, like me, buys very thoughtful and well thought out gifts - and since we've been married it's only got better. 

So I was surprised; surprised he'd asked for a knife and surprised because I thought he'd push his luck into getting something better. I was also surprised when I announced he should get something better than a good knife and told him to buy a kettlebell - and to do it before I changed my mind.

I think I'm a pretty awesome wife as wives go. I'm down with a lot of things B wants to do, I support all his crazy ideas (although, generally, that's me with the crazy ideas) and I get him things he's wanted for years. And he doesn't buy me appliances for birthdays or Christmas - and when he does buy them there is no 'this is for you' feeling about it.

Although, I do get pretty excited about new appliances.

 That's until I have to use them.

Please remember I am doing a wonderful give away! For full details go HERE.

Childhood Dreams.

I grew up right here.

When I was a little girl growing up in a small Scottish village I day dreamed. All day, every day I would imagine my life unfolding and what I wanted it to be. When I woke up I was excited; sights, smells, sounds were as clear as a newly tuned piano being played.


My future seemed so far away - like trying to eat a bar of chocolate with a fork and wearing gloves at the same time. But in that dream of my future I saw clear prizes: many notebooks were going to bursting full of stories, of ideas, of narratives of my day dreaming. My notebooks would be turned into something. Something "really cool."


But I know now that my life was to turn out very different. I kept getting sick as a child and nobody really knew the depths of that until my older brother got sick, too, and we were sent off for tests. The tests were clear; we got a clean bill of health. Except I didn't feel any better, nor did I feel reassured. I kept how I felt to myself to avoid being thought of as a "faker."


I went on with life, I filled notebooks with my thoughts but the day dreaming was getting me into trouble at school and thinking good things seemed to make me feel worse so I gave up on all that when I was about 9 or 10. 


At 22 I became engaged and I really wish that in my mind my life would end when it was good, all those happy years ago, to when I got engaged at 22 until the present day. My Happy Years. My Really Happy Years. Where I know dreams will come true and great things will happen, even if I am not filling notebooks and thinking they will turn into something really cool. 

Please remember I am doing a wonderful give away! For full details go HERE.

Soap Give Away: Frosted Crossbones.

Let's get into a lather about something: soap.

And more importantly, Soap that is shaped like food on Etsy.

On my look-out for more vegan products I came across one seller's shop; Frosted Crossbones where a selection of aforementioned soaps are sold. You can buy almost any kind of food-stuff shaped soap your heart desires; cakes, gummy bears and even deviled eggs. Pretty cool, right? What's better is that it is 100% VEGAN. 

I was lucky enough to interview the Frosted Crossbones creator (isn't the Internet glorious?) and I'm going to share it with you right here:

Cara (that's me, the author of this blog): What gave you the idea for making soaps that look like food?

Frosted Crossbones: I actually started with making real food and then moved onto making soap that looked like food out of an interest for making items for people like me that were utterly obsessed with food just like me! I of course still enjoy making food but I'm now in a kick where I make sweet foods look savory and savory foods look sweet. My brain craves strange stuff!

"What inspires me most is food."

C: What are your top 3 favourite shop items?

FC:I hate picking favorites because I love making everything but if I had to rank them it would go as follows; 

1: Rainbow Soap Cake (pictured above.) This item was a time consuming nightmare but turned out to be a beautiful item that all of my customers adore!

2: Is a tie ( I told you I hate picking!) between Bacon soap and Macaroni soap - Both of these items are made using molds that I made myself and are found no where else. I was very proud to make a leap into mold making for myself. Plus, who doesn't love bacon?

3: Petit Fours Soap (pictured above) - These little beauties came out of boredom one day while watching tv with my husband. I just felt like doing something new. Plus I adore lemon desserts. I plan to start producing these in many new scents and colors soon!

C: Which other hand crafters do you feel inspired by? What inspires you?

FC: Twinkie Chan is a personal favorite of mine as she is always coming up with new fun food themed items. I'm continuously stalking her new items and am in the works to try to convince her to make me a toilet paper cozy. Another fave crafter of mine is BoxHounds. I originally bought my first Etsy item from her a few years back with was an amazing computer bag and cozy that I love and still use today. What inspires me most is food. I'm addicted to the look, smell, taste and presentation of food. I actually have 3 different iPhone apps that consist of something called food porn, which before you get the wrong idea is just pictures of the most delicious looking foods you've ever seen!

C (by this point I am getting the impression that Frosted Crossbones is a girl after my own heart): Sum up your shop in a sentence:

FC: Oh jeez, that's hard. My shop is for the fat kid inside of all of us!

C: (laughing head off. A lot.)

C: Finish this sentence; "If I had a million dollars..."

FC: If I had a million dollars I would buy a small building to make and sell my soaps and jewelry out of and I would lock myself inside for 4 days a week just so I could make fun stuff with out being interrupted!

As a special thank you to one lucky winner Frosted Crossbones has agreed to give away to followers of this blog one of her most favourite items: 

Rainbow Soap Cake (normally $7.50.)

So, what do you need to do in order to win?

1. Follow this blog HERE and comment below with your favourite Frosted Crossbones shop item.
Shop can be found here.

Extra entries mean higher chance of winning. Want extra entries? Sure thing!


1. Follw Three Six Five on Facebook and drop me a comment on here so I can count your extra entry! :)


2. Favorite (American English spelling) Frosted Crossbones on Etsy and drop me a comment on here so I can count your extra entry! :)


3. Recommend a friend to the blog, have them follow and comment with your friend's username. Comments allow me to count your extra entry!

Good luck! 

Oh and HURRY UP if you want to win as:

Give away ends Monday 20 June 2011 

(winner annouced at 12.00pm GMT)

Doing Your 'Level Best.'

L-R: Me, Dad and my brother.

"Do your best," my Dad told me when I was knee-high to a grasshopper. I'm not sure who he had heard that mantra from - his Mum, my Gran? - but he had. Now he was passing on the same advice to me.


But I wasn't really aware of my best as a child. I tried, I really put forward my best effort - okay three works worth of late homework might not have been my best effort at 9 years old - and somehow I never reaped what I sowed.


Then I thought about the 'do your best' advice and it got me thinking. What if you perform at your best but it's not to the standard other's may say is best? And then does that mean that your best is negligible?


This afternoon I caught up on the latest episode of The Apprentice (UK) where one of the candidates exclaimed he had done his best, so he shouldn't be brought back into the boardroom. The truth was that I found that a bit of an excuse - and because this candidate said; "I performed 110%" when there is no such thing as 110% in the first place, so he can't even do basic maths ;) - because it's easy to say you did your best when the standard of what you consider best may be lower than what's expected of you.

A poor man's Donald: Lord Alan Sugar, CEO of Amstrad.

The task on The Apprentice was mainly physical - not a task I could carry out to Lord Sugar's expectations that's for definite - and I imagined what my best would be. Probably making buying tea's and coffees and not a lot else - I have only ever made tea and coffee a handful of times in my life. 


We live in a World where lying is rewarded (unless you're caught), wealth is inherited and singers earn more money than heart surgeons who save lives. So is this our best? 


The standards of best have lowered; the unshaven look is in, the bed head look is in (although you won't catch me complaining about that) and people seem to care less about what they nourish their bodies and souls with. Is this our best?


My best used to be staying up all night completing projects and essays for Uni. These days my best is organising myself enough that I won't have to keep ridiculous hours. My best used to be thinking of every excuse in the book to get me out of getting into trouble; I lost my homework, my brother ripped up my jotter, my tube was delayed. These days my best is simple honesty, no white lies any more. 

What's your best and do you feel it's enough?

One Heck of a Week!

I've had a really exciting week (more to come on the whys next week.) So, for now I present to you some pretty pictures from the Awesome People Hanging Out Together tumblr. 

Enjoy! 

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(Edit. B to me just now: "Whose the first picture?"

Me: "Who? Oh, Snoop Dogg and Martha Stewart."

B: "Whose Martha Stewart when she's at home?"

He didn't know who Martha Stewart was. Um, seriously?!)

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Charlie Chaplin and Helen Keller. I just find this picture absolutely gorgeous and so moving at the same time. I am inspired.

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This one, because my husband really admires Bruce Lee and because I think Chuck Norris-isms are the bomb.com.

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And this, because my husband had no idea who Andy Warhol was up until I marched him into a library, ran to the art section and began lecturing him on pop art ;). Um I really hope he knows who Alfred Hitchcock is...

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My favourite president with one of my newest favourite actors.

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Not much of a fan of Chanel or surrealist paintings - but this picture is cool either way ;).

Have an awesome weekend, hopefully hanging out with some awesome people in your own lives :)!

My night out with a couple of men.

Trust me when I say that date night is not often.

So when my brother offered (or did I volunteer him?) to babysit on Wednesday night we jumped at the chance.

Being sick coupled with having a baby and working from home makes life a little more interesting for me and for my family. I don't leave the house all too often and with that I sometimes get a bit of cabin fever - the same four walls is a bit boring after a while.

When Roman was new we would just take him out with us or would leave him with a trusted and close family member. Ro goes to sleep around 7pm so it's a "see you on the sofa for dinner" scenario between me and B these days.

Well, we went to see X-Men. If you're a child of the mid 90s you'll remember the Saturday morning cartoon version of the X-Men (Wolverine was so hot as a cartoon. Phew!). I know that it's also a comic, sorry 'graphic novel', but comics graphic novels bore me to tears. 

When I was 15 the X-Men movie came to VHS (wow I am so retro right now) and I have been a fan of every single X-Men or X-Men related movie since then. 

So last night we went to see X-Men: The First.

Scottish eye candy: James McAvoy. 

Can I just do my name dropping thing right here and say that me and Mr McAvoy (pictured above) used to live on the same street in London? And by street I mean two or three streets away. Oh yes and I saw him riding on his scooter one day. And guess what? It was at a red light. And guess what again? He WINKED and WAVED at me. I giggled like a school girl and ran away, of course, because I drop about thirty IQ points around cute Hollywood types. And he's married (and was married at the time.) Shameless or what! ;).

Anyway...he played a great Xavier. And Magneto was hot, too. And they both have wrinkles. I just wanted to point that out because I noticed that most, if not all, of the women in that film were smoothed to perfection - within an inch of their lives. Also, there  was a scene in which they were all wearing these camp yellow suits and of course the men were all zipped up to their chins but one of the women wore it practically unzipped to her belly button. Oh Hollywood, I love your not so subtle sexism.

Me and B enjoyed it; me laughing when the rest of the cinema was deathly silent (don't you hate when you do that?), us giving each other knowing looks when the film made reference to the older X-Men films (we are nerds!) and let's not forget the part where you get to see how Charles Xavier ended up in a wheelchair - really good stuff.


I'll say no more because I think I've *ahem* said quite enough as it is. 

Over all the film was pretty good - of course not a patch on the first X-Men film ;).