One Born Every Minute.

13/366

This afternoon we watched a few births from a show I'd recorded called One Born Every Minute. 

One afternoon last year, when Roman wouldn't take a nap, we sat down to watch it together. I didn't really think he would take any of it in but the whole time he sat on my lap, watching with a wide eyed curiosity. When it was time for the babies to come into the world, he would cheer and then giggle as they were finally born.


The previous year, in 2010, I watched this programme right after I'd given birth. Naturally I cried at each and every single birth, holding my newborn tight to my chest - and being absolutely full of love, gratitude and hormones.

This time around, in 2012, Roman loves to imitate the breathing and even doubled his toy as a mask for his 'gas and air.' We delighted in watching a mum birth her baby into water, another who'd had a previous forceps birth managed to have a natural as possible birth and another delivered a healthy little 9lb girl. 

Women have been doing this for centuries, that's for sure, but somehow every birth does seem like a miracle. And although I've been following this programme for nearly two years, I am still hooked on watching babies being born - and so is Roman. 

{A happy week} A blog for my mum.

Dear mum,


We've had a wonderful week.


A week full of Roman trying to escape from his nappy, brushing his teeth, growing out of clothes and fitting into the next size up. A week full of storms and rain. Of darkness by 3.30pm. Another week down until Christmas, until my birthday.

You always gave me such great birthdays, with rich chocolate cake and crisps (err, not together.) With my birthday being on Christmas Eve it always felt separate to Christmas - I don't know how you pulled that off.


 We ventured out today and it was so much fun - all the Christmas lights were up in town (along with a big tree) and we were all kept warm by our hats, scarves and gloves. I was shopping for Bryan's stocking - which is more of a challenge than you'd imagine, but I am so excited to hand it over on Christmas day - and I had an overwhelming memory of Christmases past. Of stockings stuffed full of treats. Is that shallow, to remember the stuffed stocking?


It was never really the quantity - or quality - of the stocking, but more the little surprises I'd find inside. One year it was a sweet making kit and when I was 22 it was the shiny new purse with the shiny new 20p inside, with the year's date on it. It was the way you knew what I'd like so well. And now you've passed that skill onto me. 



Follow: @MamaChaser 
Email: carakirk@hotmail.com

366 Project: Let me count the ways...

After much thought and consideration, I am taking on a 366 (it's a leap year!) Project that will start in January, 2012.


Why?


1. Since completing my original 365 I feel I have a lot of 'lost' days - days where I forget what we did (is it important? Um, well sometimes it is) and I feel kind of sad for that fact. I also love the idea of having photo memories of a whole year.


2. I'm committing to really losing a lot of weight this year. I ducked out a lot of 365 photos because I didn't feel 100% okay with my body shape...not only that but I am doing that with a majority of photos to this day, hopefully this won't be the case with a 366 Project. I also feel if I commit to a photo project that it will keep me on track with my weight loss and getting fit routine. I'm not self conscious about my shape, it's just not the best it can be and I am not proud of that fact. It's strange, though, because I am the most comfortable and happy I've ever been.


3. It's a leap year. I vowed to not do another 365 project of this scale until I had another child. Well, seeing as we have that extra day - why not go for it? After all, it's not strictly speaking a '365' ;).


4. Encouragement. I'd thought privately about doing another photo project (and tried and failed at doing many mini projects) and then Georgia, over at Gregarious Peach, wrote a post about starting up another photo project - this time with 366 photos! Seeing as she was the inspiration behind my previous 365, I decided 'why not?'. If I fall on my face with this, I do, I can only try.


5. I had completed my other photo project with a lot of mobile phone pictures - they don't do too well in a photo book as the photo book needs the best and biggest image you have in order that you get the best quality. These were the days before my DSLR, the early days, the days I don't even remember now - life without lenses?! No way! I have a better quality of camera these days and ditched my kit lens for an upgrade. With all this in mind I will be able to produce work that is technically 'good enough' for a photo book.


I am a huge perfectionist. It wasn't easy to complete my project, but it was worth the effort. It gave me a new perspective and taught me to chill the hell out. I broke down in tears and madness a few times, but that was because I was comparing myself constantly to Georgia and many others who were doing the same project. 


The difference is that is their view of the World and it's not mine, it's how they see things and I don't see it that way. No two people do. I got so worked up about things that I wanted to spend over £1,000 on a camera alone this year and that's crazy talk - 1. we cannot afford or justify that spend and 2. a camera is an investment, sure, but £1,000 is just too much of an investment. So I upgraded my lens and with a new lens coming in a few days, I am pleased.


I need to learn humility it seems.


All that aside, I am excited. I've already started eating very well and I am excited to start a new chapter in documenting my son's 3rd year of life, as well as a 2nd birthday and 3rd wedding anniversary! Life goes by so quickly and I want to store as many memories as I can.


I hope this post might inspire a few others to join in. You don't need any fancy equipment or software - half the time I took pictures on my phone! - and it's about snapping what you want to cherish. 


Follow: @MamaChaser 
Email: carakirk@hotmail.com

Pondering the potty (training)

Today I woke up with something on my mind: pants and potty training. 


It's been on my mind for an unusually long time because I know we're drawing nearer and nearer to the time that is completely nappy-free. Waking thoughts seemed to be consumed with what colour/theme of pants to buy and what size. 18-24 months or 2-3 years?


Then I began to think about the hits and misses we've had so far. The misses are memorable because they don't happen often and the hits are memorable because...well we've been lazy. We haven't been using the potty an awful lot lately. And Roman doesn't really like the big seat on our loo.

Things seemed easier earlier on in the game, at 7 months, when we had that first pee in the potty. He wouldn't put his hands up and exclaim 'Ma, Ma, Ma!' over and over. He would just go. And sometimes he wouldn't. But either way it was simple then.


Now he is more independent, assertive 


...and can run like a bat out of hell. 

Halloween

This is what an unhappy skeleton looks like...

I had forgotten about Halloween this year. 


When it hit October everything seemed to disappear from my memory. Birthdays, special events and Halloween.


We bought this costume because it looked cute. But I remember a time, by gone now, when people made costumes - for any occasion. One year my costume was constructed from a pair of old curtains, tin foil and glitter. On a whim and within under an hour. Another year it was another on-the-spot costume. I always wanted to be different, to dazzle and stand out. Not because I had the confidence to match my candour but because I wanted to be different.


And now I buy costumes for my child. Because that's what everyone else does. And because it doesn't cost a fortune. 


So this year, he's a skeleton. 

A cute, helpful little skeleton at that.

Happy Halloween!

P.S We were horrible last night and didn't open our door to the two trick or treater's (or as we call them 'guisers.') I was sure we wouldn't have a lot of people round, if any at all, so I didn't want to go out and buy non-vegan treats (vegan ones would have been expensive and probably not be eaten) most of which would be left over...so in short, I didn't bother.

If I could and if it didn't freak people out I would have cooked Halloween cookies but no doubt a lot of parents wouldn't be cool with that - would you be happy to eat strange cookies? What if they had razor blades or drugs in them? My point exactly.

So, do you think it's mean we didn't open the door?

Things for his room.

I saw this on a design blog (forgive me because I have forgotten which blog) where the designer did the whole alphabet. Luckily for me the 'R' was a robot and this happens to be one of Roman's nick names (don't ask.)

I had an idea about cutting out balloon shapes from various card colours...but I'm not sure my fingers are up for the drawing and cutting. So these pictures are an inspiration for a picture idea I have. I love the Disney film 'Up.' My sister recommended it and I couldn't get over how amazing it was. The music, the characters and the storyline were all perfect. If you haven't seen it, watch it. Now.

I tried to score this Pintoy house off a seller on eBay, but they weren't willing to post it for fear of it getting damaged. I have looked everywhere else for something similar to this, all to no avail. Just as well really, there's no 'home' for this home...no shelves, no drawers (too small) or desktop for it to sit on.

I love retro toys. So I Google Imaged 'retro toys' and this popped up. Perfect. I wonder if it would breach copy right to print this out and frame it?

North of Scotland: Being there.

So if you haven't already read 'part one' of our little trip then go here to read it.


So...if you've read part one you'll be up to speed that we took our 19/nearly 20 month old on a long journey on public transport and all was well (kind of) by the end of the trip. 


I'm going to admit that I never took a lot of photos while we were away because I was so distracted or busy. But here's what I did get...

So...after our trip we got to my parents lovely house. Where we froze for the night until we figured out the heating. 


I had a few things to take care of while we were up there but once I was done, I spent time with the two of them. We'd huddle around the TV and catch up with Quantum Leap or Raising Hope (two of the best TV shows made, I think.) 

Roman loved the zoo up there. On the first few days the cats were very wary of him, every time he'd shout 'CAT!' and chase after them they were like speeding bullets out a gun. By the fourth day they would let him clap them. He was very careful and gentle with them. Shadow was the opposite. At first she would be okay with him, but then as time wore on her growls got louder. One time she even 'herded' him by butting her head on his side.


This called for splitting the room in two - Fort Roman was made...

More pictures...with a little narration. 

One of the days we went into town. We waited an hour for a bus.

The bus finally showed...

 (1) inside the sweet shop, loads of chocolate-inspired mugs. (2) 1,000 welcomes. (3) Thistle bag.

I really enjoy going to this sweet shop when I'm in Thurso. Pretty much all of their sweets/candy aren't vegan, but it's how I remember sweet shops; hard boiled sweets and other goodies in jars, known as 'quarters.' 

Something Scandinavian about this...

Bryan bought himself some chips...so we gave Roman his first chippy chip. He was a fan so had another. I think, when he's a lot older, we'll have chippies every so often. I hadn't wanted to give Roman any chocolate or junk foods as obesity, heart disease and other problems relating to food are such a huge problem in Scotland but I figure if we are sensible about it and show Roman how to manage his eating then we can't go wrong - that is far healthier than trying to not give him these things ever. 

Could he live without these things? Yes. Of course. But if we, the parents, are going to eat these foods then it would be hypocritical not to allow them. 

And since we're talking about food. This is how vegans cook anything that requires eggs (although, not really, I just use oil when I don't have egg replacer.)

And it comes up looking like wall paper paste. Yummy wall paper paste. Mmm.

{Peanut butter and chocolate button cookies - not a fan of the buttons but there were hardly any in there.}

To finish: some yummy 'cakies' which were meant to be cookies but baked big and cake-like.

And this, my friends, concludes our little holiday up north. Going home was hilarious...but that's another story ;). 

Cheeky.

A cheeky little boy. 

Today we got him a new chair to sit in - a kid sized version of a stylish chair. I felt fairly confident he'd enjoy the chair. When it arrived, B made up the chair and we introduced it to Roman. He sat on it, sure, but then he spent most of time pushing it around the room!

Eventually, in the fading sun of the afternoon, he settled down for a seat. His relaxed attitude was a contrast to my panic over a wrongly delivered parcel (what was meant to be our TV stand was actually our neighbours Betterware order.)

A Fine Vintage...

A conversation with B as I was looking up dolls houses (homes?) from the 60s and 70s:

Me: "I love vintage toys."

B: "What do you mean by vintage toys?"

Me: "Dolls houses from the 60s and 70s."

B: "But modern toys are newer."

Me: "Um yeah, but they break so easily. Nothing is designed for quality any more and everything's made out of plastic, I hate plastic."

Do you agree with me or B? And why am I such an old soul? I crave those days where children dressed as children, where toys were small collections, where things were truly made with love and attention to detail.

These days everything is pumped out a factory, carelessly, and to make a profit. I am not against making a profit nor am I against toy franchises but I miss the old ways. I miss old fashioned values of entertainment being something totally different than it is today.

Don't get me wrong; whip eBay away from me and I'd feel like a limb was missing - although it's likely I would track down various vintage toy shops and shop there. When we were young things me and my sister used to love playing 'dress up' at Rusty Zip in Edinburgh - an awesome vintage shop with gear from every decade you can imagine.

And I don't want these things to be pretentious or arty farty - I just love the look and feel of bygone toys. Maybe it's the little white crib I used to play with at my Grans, or the various boot sales we'd trek too and pick up little wonders at; a small blue radio from the 70s, a ceramic elephant as a gift for my Mum from goodness knows what era and various baby dolls with scary make-up.

I've never wanted to follow what others do, I've always wanted something different that represents more than a fad or TV show as a toy for Roman and I love the idea of memories and love stored inside some sweet little toys from various dreamy eras.

I just hope they're not lead painted dreamy eras ;).

Growing and growing. And growing.

Parenting: going by in a blur. 

I don't know where 18, nearly 19, months have gone. I would have 10 children if they could all be like this. But that's not reality. The reality is that everything is a gamble and that having babies is a gamble. 


For me that gamble is knowing I could make myself more sick, perhaps totally crippled and totally confined to bed/my house forever more. That's a daunting and scary thought. As it stands I will never be that mother who pushes her child in a swing at the park. Meanwhile life moves on for others and Roman gets bigger - and smarter - by the minute.


He is figuring out this World around him without my help, aided completely by his curiosity and helped by my inability to move fast and keep up with every leap, bound and stride he takes.

The mimicking has reached a new height. He copes e v e r y t h i n g I do. He wants to be in my business constantly. And has no regard for doing it to my standards - he just wants to learn, he just wants to be part of all the excitement and be wherever there is something going on.

When my Mum told me that I shouldn't be so quick to have him walking, she was spot on. But of course, as children do, I didn't take it seriously. I was in a flap about him not walking so much that I got over excited when he did start walking...and now...well now I find myself trying to claw back the babyhood a little. Stay a little bit tiny, for now, stay in my arms and on my lap. But he is too quick, too fast and already has me beat on physical strength. 

On top of this, he is asserting his independence on a daily basis by running behind the couch, his new trick of opening the door, brushing his hair and teeth, dressing and undressing himself and sitting on the toilet seat - where did my baby go? And when did the big boy move in?

He doesn't particularly like TV - and, well, we don't own a TV, but he does get to watch some Arthur or Mr Bloom when I'm struggling during the day -, but worships his book collection. He loves to take baths, loves his ducks in the bath and is growing tired of water being dumped on his head and falling into his eyes.

We never did follow Baby Lead Weaning (smack on the wrist because we started him on food at 4 months when I felt under pressure for him to put on weight and didn't want to move him onto formula) so on Sunday I handed him the spoon and let him get to work on a yoghurt that he made short work of...

I wasn't going to mention this at all but I am getting a new camera. And I am excited. 

I had a plan which involved not mentioning it to anyone and dazzling everyone with the amazing photo's I'm going to take...but the truth is simple and it's this; no matter how great my camera, my lenses, lighting and any other equipment - I need to stay true to that original fire in my belly feeling. I need to keep my passion going and not be trampled down by all these 'rules' that photographers seem to follow. After all a majority of my 365 photos were taken on a mobile phone and I didn't let it stop me back then. 

Can't Fathers be home-makers, too?

Today something really annoyed me. I saw a banner ad for a site that had the caption along the lines of; "Preparing our daughters to be home-makers." This caption has really ticked me off.


Why are our daughters being prepared for this role? What about our sons? Can't they be nurturing, caring, loving and understanding home-makers, too? It makes the suggestion that only females can and should be home-makers. And while I'm willing to play fair and bet the site admin didn't mean any harm, I think inadvertently sites like this cause it anyway. 


I have a son, so I take this personally. I am rearing a home-maker. He will learn how to use a washing machine, how to cook a number of recipes, how to sew a button onto a shirt, how to mend a pair of socks and he will be expected to take an active role in duties around the house.


After all, one day, he will be a father. And he will have a home. If that's what he chooses, of course. And if or when that day comes, I want him to make his house a home. I want him to be a home-maker. And to be prepared to be the one who works in the home, rather than outside the home.


And the person preparing him for most of his early learning? His own father. Who cooks, changes nappies, feeds our son, does the shopping and vacuuming around here. Our own home-maker.

So why just prepare our daughters to be home-makers? Our sons need it, too. And none of this 'Modern Man' rubbish, either. It's just normal and natural because being a father is more than about clocking in and out of an office building, coming home, putting your feet up and expecting someone else to do things for you at home.


Being a home-maker is about making a home; where children laugh, sing, learn and play. Where the father has to have the maturity to handle being the head of the household - how can that be possible if he has never been shown what goes into making a house a home?

Childhood.

What was your childhood like?

Is it something you love to talk about or something you find hard to discuss?



For myself I had a majority of 80% happy memories and 20% of it where it was hard and a bit miserable. 20% might sound like a lot, but I can assure you that if the numbers were around the other way and 80% of it was hard and miserable that it would paint a very different picture in your mind's eye.


I had some hard trials as a child. I can't phrase it any better than that, because that is exactly how I would want to frame it when presenting my childhood story to you. 


These trials really hardened me towards trusting people; for the most part I found myself very reluctant to trust anyone. I would make new friends but I never seemed to keep friends as I felt their loyalty to me was never where I wanted it to be - I had friends, some I even have to this day, but I never felt I gave myself to anyone; in fact the first person I feel I truly 'gave myself' to is my husband, in every way. 


In the past I also never opened up, shared or explained myself too well; I kept my feelings and emotions in check all the time, lest something would slip out that I didn't want slipping out.


For years this system made sense. And one day, when I was about 17, I'd had enough. Enough pretending, lacking trust, hating several people and being in this state of constant unforgiving. I had to move on. 


Up until then my hatred and pain fuelled me through the day. I could smile, be happy, laugh and crack jokes like the rest of them but when I was on my own there were the over whelming feelings of hating everything and feeling so much pain. Enough was enough.


Bad things do happen to good people. I was a very decent, caring, loving and expressive child and I couldn't let that be taken from me, too. I had to fight back to reclaim myself and my life. I'm fortunate that I could find the strength to do that - and I am so grateful for Jesus Christ's sacrifice for us, without His sacrifice I would have struggled. I knew people had gone through pain like I had but the only other person who had truly felt it and experienced it like me was Jesus.


Just because God is a loving God doesn't mean that he can stop people being stupid; starting wars, killing and abusing children or people killing people. That is entirely a person's choosing. And they must deal with the consequences. 


God is a loving God because he doesn't intervene on someone else's choice.


However it's our decision to decide how we're going to react and what we do with how others treat us that matters. How we respond to pain is our choice. We can choose fight or flight. Right or wrong. Good or bad.


I'm glad I selected the choice that was good for me. I am glad that I can sit here and say that 80% of my childhood was awesome, I think that is a tremendous and awesome number that my parents and myself should be happy about. 


Thank you to everyone else. Thank you for raising me in some way, for being my friend, for tuning into my needs and putting them ahead of your own. Thank you for reading my stories and sharing this life with me. 


It means everything.