Caterpillar.

Trying very hard not to do what we're asking of him and fresh from a bath. I love this boy so, so much.

New Coat.

With the Scottish winter coming in so suddenly these past few weeks I decided we needed to fight against it and buy Roman a thick and warm water proof coat. The coat was found and today he wore it for the first time outside. "MY lovely coat!" he told me, proud as punch to be wearing it. "Put MY hood up!" 

"Want Gurga (Burger)!"

My stripey boy trying to mastermind a way to get to that plate of food to his left.

Seeing as the chesty sounding cough hadn't cleared up I decided to make a doctor's appointment for Roman yesterday. The receptionist awarded me with an appointment this afternoon which meant that Bryan could take Roman along without me having to trek all the way over to the surgery. 

It turned out Roman was absolutely fine (apart from a chesty cough) and Bryan was given a leaflet that the doctor undoubtedly hands out to every first time parent...but it's better to be safe than sorry. And I waited a good time between Ro developing the cough and taking him to the doctor so I don't feel there's any embarrassment to be felt on my part, it's what every good parent does; makes sure their child is safe, healthy and cared for. Plus if there was something more sinister under that awful wheezing? I'd never forget I'd caused damage to my child's health when there are doctors and medicine out there, free at the point of entry no less, for us to use. 

When he got home Roman demanded a slew of foods he wanted to eat, surprising me with his sudden appetite. When he realised that his veggie burger was cooked and waiting for him he wanted it immediately. "WANT GURGA!" he said, gluing his eyes to the burger. "Want sauce, want roll, want gurga." I told him it would have to cool down first, otherwise he'd hurt himself and he simply didn't care about my reasoning ;). So once the burger was cooled, it was served and promptly devoured as though it was the last morsel of food on the face of the earth. "All done, want biscuit, want jelly," Roman informed me very matter of factly. As a special treat he had ice cream...and when he was done with that? "Want cereal." I suppose after a few days of picking at meals and not eating very much his appetite was restored and it's safe to say that he's on the road to a speedy recovery ;).

A Little of What We Fancy.

I headed out of the door very late today - so late that the shops were long closed on the high street - and wrapped Roman up in a hand knitted hoody, jacket and for extra warmth I threw a blanket on top of his knees and tucked him in. Oh it was crisp, but it was cold - autumn is here and it won't be long until winter nips our hands and feet.

When we were shopping I spotted some vegan cakes in the supermarket and snapped them up. "Vegan cake! Vegan cake! Vegan cake!" Roman chanted on the walk home, tucking into a (synthetic) cream cake all the while. My reasoning is that a little of what we fancy won't harm us...and it makes me laugh that people can accuse me of 'depriving' Roman because we don't feed him McDonalds, Burger King meals or Kinder chocolate products. If only they saw these moments of indulgence and just how much there is for little vegan boys to be treated with.

Sad.

A missed nap and a long day; this is the result.

I remember being his age very well. I remember my room being a scary place, I remember waking up in the middle of the night paralysed by fear; my larynx feeling closed through absolute terror of the dark, the strange noises and even my head board absolutely terrified me. Sleep and I weren't friends and we haven't really had a stable relationship since. My hope and wish for Roman is that he doesn't end up with the same sleep issues and every time he misses a nap or refuses to sleep I panic. 

I never know what to do other than not force him to sleep and to just be there if something is disturbing/upsetting him. But my goodness it works me up so much when he won't lie down when he's clearly exhausted and I lose it (shamefully.) I swear (shamefully), I sometimes cry and a lot of the time I just throw my hands up and wonder why. Why is he fighting sleep so much when he's clearly wiped out? It's rare when he fights sleep but because it's so rare I just don't know how to handle the situation - it's a new, scary, territory for me. And I'm sure it's not a barrel of laughs for Roman, either. For both of us; it's hell. Roman gets upset, teary and worked up and I'm much of the same. When Ro was four months old he refused to co-sleep with us so I know this isn't a route or option that will work for our family, despite many failed attempts to try this. It's just hard and upsetting to see him like this and not have any idea what you can do.

Nurturing.

When I was a wee girl I loved my dolls. I couldn't have a child and not share that same joy that a baby doll gives you, and there's the no-getting-away from fact that Roman loves babies. He loves to watch birth videos with me, he'll run from the next room if he hears a baby crying on TV and when there are babies around him, he's ever so loving and gentle with them. He reminds me of Bryan, who is infinitely better at handling and dealing with babies than I am. I have my strong points but poo in a nappy makes me weak at the knees, even almost two and a half years into motherhood.

Roman loves his baby. Before bed he kisses it goodbye and tucks it ever so carefully into 'bed' (in his toy box) and when he wakes up in the morning it's the first thing he asks for. Once he has his baby he'll gather it up in his arms, covering it with kisses and feeding it 'juica' (juice.)

Two Year Old Photographer.

He watches me all the time. All the time. These set of photos remind me of this and that I need to seriously be on my guard with this boy. That aside he found my old camera in his room and declared it was his camera. "Roman's camera," he told me, upon finding his treasure. "Roman take photos." And so he did. Today Bryan was away and so I spent an hour and a half watching him take photos - on a camera that doesn't work! I almost couldn't believe we'd let time get away with us like that, but it was such a joy to watch his curiosity and interest grow.

I'm excited to see how this new passion of his evolves.

Restless Summer.

This summer weather is more like October weather; drizzly rain that doesn't quit, grey skies that threaten to shower me every time I leave the house with a half-decent hair style and there's the temperatures; one minute cloyingly humid, the next chilling my very marrow and requiring heating, socks and even blankets.

I wish I could drive or that public transport was less of an expense so that we could see new things every day, instead of the same old same old (not that I'm complaining at all, I don't mind the same old same old...a change of scenery would be nice.) Going to Stirling by train isn't really an option I like to take - there is the issue of getting his buggy up and over the stairs and while there have been willing public volunteers in the past, I can't always bank on that possibility. I feel very itchy to take an adventure but then confined by circumstance and house mess.

Roman's sleeping isn't any better these days; if he naps during the day, he won't sleep very well at night. I've been thinking we should cut naps but I'm not ready to lose them, either. Even if he naps for an hour or so he won't sleep at night. Instead he much prefers to take 5 or 10 minute rests with a blanket in the middle of the floor, just like the picture above. As I write this he's happily munching into apple-sized strawberries from Fife, a jam bagel cut in two pieces and a home made ice lolly right next to me, in his high chair. If anyone wants to know how anything gets done in a home with a toddler, the answer is always food and a high chair (with supervision, I felt that went without saying but that I should say it anyway.)

Nappying It.

When I see him like this it reminds me of the many baby photos we have; chubby, inquisitive and still in nappies.

I can't say I've worked too hard to get him out of nappies - but we have tried. I would love to launch into a cold-turkey style of taking away the nappies (and I'm positive he'd cope better than me or Bryan with this) and letting him free range it. I'd simply offer him the potty or toilet, and he knows both are there, throughout the day and when more control and confidence was there I'd start taking him out with underpants on. If he suddenly forgot he wasn't wearing a nappy and couldn't just 'go' in pants and got wet...no biggie, I'd soon change him. It's only pee. 

But with a marriage comes two viewpoints and Bryan is reluctant to try this method, which is frustrating on my part. I want to do things a certain way and I can't because I have to respect that he gets a say, too. This is fairly new in our society as women used to have the complete say so over child rearing matters not too long ago - maybe even a generation ago - and men just didn't get involved at all, which is obviously not the best thing. It's better that Bryan is involved, it's better that men of our generation get their hands dirty with child rearing and it's better that a fathers viewpoint counts, that it matters and he cares about how his children are raised. And this is the overwhelming feeling over everything, no matter how frustrating it can be to want to do it 'my way' a lot of the time. 

Then there's Roman's way - and his time table. He's waiting for us to be ready, I can tell, because he's got no hang-ups about using either the potty or toilet. In fact he's quite practiced in it and I can't help but think we should just go for it. 

Either way, the plan is that by the end of this year: he'll be out of nappies full time, during the day and night. And however we do it, it will be done!

Awkward Family Photos.

This is my favourite photo, maybe ever. And doesn't qualify as an 'awkward family photo.'

A while ago I discovered the awesome website Awkward Family Photos. With each photo I cried tears through fits of laughter; these photos were priceless, but not from a sentimental or quality point of view, nope...as the website suggests these photos were awkward - and incredibly funny with it.

So when I spied these photos in my camera, it put me in mind of the AFP website ;). From Bryan looking like a serial killer to the awkward smile and then the awkward squint I could very well see these photos featured on the AFP website ;). 

Side note: yes, they're lovely. Even the photos that were 'out takes' so to speak are lovely to me because that's my family and despite all of these awkward family photos they make for some lovely (and funny) memories. I will enjoy adding these to my family records.

Balancing Act.

When it comes to food there is a balancing act; a little of what you fancy, but not too much and everything in moderation. Or that's what I'm trying to pass onto Roman.

Today we ate chocolate tart and strawberries - he loved it. We spent the afternoon together, just us two, watching Wallace and Gromit and The Grufallo's Child meanwhile eating our goodies together. "PENGUIN!" he shouted when he saw Feathers McGraw appear on the screen. "Big bad mouse!" he told me as the shadowy outline of the mouse appeared on screen in The Grufallo's Child. He snuggled in when his 'cake' was done but not for too long before he retrieved his beloved cat and snuggled that instead ;).

Burrito Baby (Toddler.)

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When he comes fresh from the bath I love to wrap him like this, the way I wrap my burritos. He's okay to be wrapped up like this and I find it so cute to watch him waddle through from our small bathroom to our living room and then gently unwrap him from the towel.

Today was a messy day; a day with gran, papa and his cousins. This bath was definitely a must, the burrito wrapping was optional but a must for me ;).

Chookit/Chocolate.

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Cameras are so common place around here that I rarely get him to look at me but today was all about awareness, about pulling silly faces and even a picture of Mr. Potato Head facing the camera for some 'cheese' (I've no idea where Roman has picked up the cheese thing, I certainly did not teach him it.)

Getting Mr Potato Head to say 'cheese.'

Today was 'chookit' rolls with a side order of spicy soya sausage, pineapples, Cheezly and chewed up olives. Today was this 'yes I'm beautiful, what of it?' look. All. Day. Long. I love it. I love him. He makes me want to have a thousand more toddlers and a thousand more babies. 

I remember a time when he was a newborn and I thought to myself; 'will Bryan and I ever have another conversation?'. Today we sat on our bed; letting our thoughts get away with us, going on tangent after tangent getting so caught up in conversation. About half way through our discussion I realised we were back to that moment - a moment where we had a spare few hours together with no distractions. It was daytime. No one had work, a baby to change, feed or otherwise satisfy...but yet here we are three years and more into our marriage talking like we're dating, excited to feed off one another, accepting and open to the other's thoughts. 

And it's because of who Roman is that we were able to be in that moment. Because he is content, relaxed and so much fun - and falls asleep at night - we're also content, relaxed and so much fun. Happy child + happy parents = happy family. People are always asking us what we 'do' with Roman but the answer is that, quite frankly, we're just us. I get annoyed, I get frustrated and sometimes I even shout (working so hard on not shouting, though) but mostly these are good times. Mostly it's like the picture - messy, fun, relaxed. And a good dose of chookit/chocolate to get us through it if it's not going quite to plan* ;).

*Although it's worth mentioning I 'gave up' chocolate in March 2011 and I have restricted amounts otherwise I'd drown myself in a pool of chocolate.

Roman's Cat.

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Roman is a little into cats. Well, really, he's into all animals but cats seem to be his favourite type of animal for the meantime. With this in mind one of his favourite toys to cuddle into while he's up and about is his toy cat. He loves it.

While he's in bed it's his beloved 'Deacon' - a blue dog he's had since he was a newborn but while he's in the living room, separated from Deacon, 'cat' is his go-to toy. His cuddle toy.

And today in general? Less than great. He was tired. I was tired - and very achy. I've been finding that we're both just so worn down and wracked with pure exhaustion lately but that bedtimes seem to be getting later. Sometimes Roman won't get to sleep by 9pm, despite being putting down to bed at 7pm! This is after his naps have been cut. Today I gave up on the 7pm bedtime at 8.30pm, brought him into the living room when Bryan's parents came round and he snuggled into his gran.

Today he had a short nap and I think this really threw him off by the time bedtime came...but seriously. Even after the nap he was exhausted. He just put himself down on the floor (picture below) with a cushion, blanket and his cat. Totally wiped out. I know the feeling, wee man. I know the feeling.

World Championship Snooker (Snore Fest 2012)

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When I married Bryan I celebrated the fact that he liked 'cool' sports like UFC and martial arts - things I might be able to take a faint interest in or at least not be completely bored to death by.

Little did I know, he's very Scottish. He likes snooker. Which makes me snookered when the World Championships are on. Because he takes pleasure from this snore fest - can you believe he has such audacity? ;). 

He also likes to bore me with the minutiae of the game. Oh, darling, I'll say, I quite frankly don't give a damn. Except, you know, with more rude words inserted in there. Even after I say I don't care he keeps telling me stuff about the game; whose winning, what's going on, the ethnicity of the referee (yep, really) and pretty much anything goes. I've given up telling him I don't care because he'll tell me useless information anyway - whether I want to hear it or not.

Today, as I was preparing to head out the door, I spotted this. A multi-tasking husband applying sun cream to our toddler. Distracted a little by the snooker, index finger raised and ready to spread the cream but on edge about whatever he was watching on the TV. And Roman's little face of determination; that look that says 'give me the cream, would you. I'll apply it myself!' ;).

'Carry It.'

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On the train, on our way to Stirling, the train conductor gave Roman his own ticket (children under 5 travel for free in the UK) and he was very happy about this. "Mah kicket (my ticket)," he kept telling me over and over. When we got off the train we walked for a while until I glanced down at Roman in his buggy, still clutching his ticket. "Carry it!" he exclaimed, with a big smile spreading over his face, very happy to use the phrase I'd taught him yesterday and pleased as punch to have his very own ticket.

I've Pulled.

The strange world of shoulder anatomy.

Today I woke up with the worst pain in my shoulder. Perhaps, ever. I had plans of getting my butt in gear, going to Stirling and just generally killing myself at the shopping centre (hate those places when they're packed.) Well, my plans were foiled when I woke up with a pulled muscle (seriously hoping that's all it is.)


So instead I spent the day eating an obscene amount of food - honestly. Probably the most food I've ate in one day in a long time, I just couldn't stop opening my mouth and shoving food in. I think I was working on the theory that food usually makes me feel better, it may even give me a rush of endorphin's and help with the natural pain relief. I also intentionally put pressure on my shoulder for a period of time by lying on my back and then sitting forward - to relieve pain. Don't ask me how that works, it just does.


I was really annoyed this morning. Annoyed because I kept thinking to myself, "as if I don't deal with enough pain and knocks to my health, this is just what I needed." I said a silent prayer to myself as I was crippled by the pain and then my shoulder eased a bit - I could barely breathe in and out before this point the pain was so overwhelming. I did feel bad about saying a prayer because I'd fallen asleep while in the middle of my prayer on the Friday night/morning and I had a bit of a cheek asking for help when I'd left God high and dry mid-sentence the night before. 


I was also in so much pain that I had to go back and repeat sentences I'd already said, just to make sure I'd said them. Because in my cloud of pain - oh but it was 'just' a pulled muscle, wasn't it, Bryan? - I was confused and a little bit sick. Thinking about that now I should have been worried, but I was so confused about waking up, not being able to move or take a proper breath that I didn't think of muscle tissue infections or something more sinister. Now I'm just convinced my body freaked out, went into a bit of a panic that I couldn't move, and I developed anxiety over it. I'm positive it's a pulled muscle because when I run the shower head over it? I'm virtually pain free. 


Anyway, I hope I don't get judged on my vain repetitions and God just see's my praying OCD for what it is. And I also hope that Bryan doesn't pull his neck out of place again - despite me walking out of the bedroom, in a big cream puff, and then spitting out to him; "I can't wait until you pull your neck again! Then I can say to you 'oh it's just a pulled muscle.' " 


On top of this I decided it would be smart to take a week off from blogging - not just because of the pulled muscle but because of a combination of many things; one being that I want to focus my energies and efforts into motherhood. I read an important blog post (I can't be bothered to hunt around for the link) about how children don't need fancy smancy crafts as seen on Pinterest, that they don't need 10 different sensory boxes nor does my house need to look like something out of Apartment Therapy in order to state the point that my child needs me. Not a clean house with immaculate floors, a swept kitchen, up to date washing, shiny sparkling dishes in the cupboards and the full works. I also don't need to be blogging when I could be spending time with Roman - although usually I do wait until he's in bed unless I get a few spare moments in the morning to quickly update things.


What my child needs is me. Especially at this age - this age I won't be able to get back again or repair any damage I might do intentionally. My wee boy is a great wee soul, he really is. He's so content about 95% of the time, sleeps through the night (this doesn't equate to the 'great wee soul' comment, it's just a nice bonus I enjoy), always receives praise on his cheerfulness and is generally just full of life. I'm blessed with Roman as my son because goodness knows I was a very, very determined little girl; full of cheeky comebacks, antics and driving people crazy all the time with my cheeky behaviour. 


But this little boy, this content little smiler, he needs me. This blog does not need me, I give it too much of my time and I need a break. I need to sort a few things out with our landlord, I need to sort out the walls in my home (covered in mould!), I need to sort out my eternally messy room and I need time to just belong to me and Roman in the afternoons. I need my son and he needs me - the more time we spend together, the more calm he becomes. His behaviour becomes seriously altered when he is ignored or, shock horror, is left to watch TV for an afternoon. He has started calling out for me in the mornings - when all I've ever known is a daddy's boy. 


So my goal is to work in the mornings meanwhile Bryan cares for Roman and then the afternoon belongs to me and my toddler - and Bryan can work in the afternoon while me and Ro stroll in nature and the shops ;). For that afternoon the TV will be off and if it's on I will talk to him about all the small details of the show and do sign language with him - which he loves. And for that whole afternoon I will not go anywhere near the internet or my laptop. It will be shut off as soon as all my work is complete and I will put an out-of-office reply on emails. 


Afternoons will be made of mess, fun, frolics, connecting with this beautiful country we have the privilege of living in and tapping into things that catch Roman's (and my) interest. 


We've been doing this for a good while now, but lately I feel myself slacking off so that's my plan. I need to be strict because lately my weeks have felt like they drag and as though nothing ever gets completed - mainly house work. 


So here's to the week and that we all enjoy what's ahead of us - and that we remember our children need us and don't care about how successful we are in a career or how wonderful our cupcakes are. They'll remember how we made them feel and the time we spent with them - not the time we spent on Pinterest fooling ourselves we'd make those kick-ass crafts with our kids. Although I do remember the kick-ass crafts me and my mum used to make together.


We were an unstoppable force.

BYE!

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I had plans for today that shortly went out the window when I woke up at 7am with the worst shoulder pain ever. And as for how I look; think the Hunchback of Notre Dam.

Toddlers don't take notice of these things, of course, their world is all about them and how much cheekiness they can get into. I struggled to take some pictures of Roman today, this was the best of the bunch. Him sneaking into his buggy when our backs were turned, then waving bye to us.

"Hiya!"

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Roman on the phone to Auntie Jeannette.

When the phone rings he runs around, looking for it, shouting 'PHONE! PHONE!' and once it's in those chubby hands it's very hard to pry those little fingers away from it.

Piano Man.

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We have an amazing app called 'Piano Perfect' on Bryan's tablet. And when I watch Roman's hands sail down the 'keys' I can't help but be reminded of the first time my younger brother, at the age of 7, played a few keys and then began to play a song, followed by another song, another and then another.

We were all amazed with his talent and to this day if you tell him to play a song, provided he's heard the tune, he'll be able to play it. He actually didn't learn to read music or play 'properly' until he was 15 when he took lessons from a Senior Missionary at church, at which point he'd been playing the church hymns on the piano for a good few years. My brother can also play the guitar by ear, too! I really hope Roman inherits some of those mad music skills, he certainly shows the same dexterity in his hands as well as making up his own lovely little delicate tunes (as opposed to most toddlers just slamming keys.) 

We shall see. I don't read too deeply into things and as children's tastes develop over the years we'll see how this one works out ;).