Biting.

Me to Roman: "Don't bite yourself, it makes me very upset."

Roman to me: "I'm a dino-sawr (dinosaur)!"

There is one thing this boy loves and that's seeing his moving form stare back at him through our iPad (we're not rich kids, Bryan won it in a competition.) He transforms into this wild thing; biting himself, making up his own random words and laughing his head off. He's also taken to biting himself and laughing his head off - it's a strange one that I try to discourage but what can you do when the toddler is convinced he has prehistoric powers?

This Is How We Do It.

These days you don't fight to get out of the buggy, you don't mind me wrapping you like I do (above) to keep the cold from nipping your legs. 

There is one trait that I have that I hope you do/don't inherit and that is my ability to protect myself, or what's more commonly been referred to as my 'self defensiveness.' I hope you inherit this because while I like to jump to the defence of others (sometimes more than jumping to my own defence) I also like to defend the things that matter to me. I like to be understood, I like to clarify my point but I'm also learning; most people don't care and just enjoy judging you. Let it go and move on from their words.

These days I have imaginary conversations in my head or dream up scenarios where people in my life ask me questions about my day to day routine, about how I 'cope' with being ill and having a child - I assume no one is thinking this but I work through a variety of questions in my head should anyone wonder.

So, I thought you might like a record of this, so we can both look back and laugh in 20 years time or whatever ;). 

The one thing that sits heavily on my mind is the above. I don't talk about illness a lot because I'm scared of judgement; which is strange because whenever the judgement comes I just think 'that's a shame this person is so switched off to learning more about this illness' or 'you don't know what you're talking about and if you did, perhaps you wouldn't be so quick to judge this.' I worry that the mothers who have or had loads of children (to me that's 2+ children) judge me and think things like I can't 'cope' with my 'one child.' That I somehow must have things easy and I'm just being weak. I don't know if anyone thinks that but I'm sure someone has to, right? 

Then there are other sick people, people with M.E who try to talk to me, who I feel deserve to be understood and taken seriously yet I don't extend the same to myself. I panic that they think I'm 'not really ill' and this is another reason not to talk about illness. I do housework (minimal, but still, I'm doing it), I look after a child all day; cooking his food, cleaning his messes, trying my best to get him to use a potty, stay in bed, eat his greens and brush his teeth. All in all I feel like I 'do more' than the average M.E person but this 'doing more' often leads to not being able to attend church meetings and services, having absolutely no social life of my own, having zero friends, barely seeing family as well as taking the judgements that come with not attending church meetings and services - and the repercussions it has on my life even though both God and I know and see the good I'm doing in my own life and really, that's all that matters to me. 

In my heart and mind I'm just as worthy as anyone else who attends all their church services and meetings and is a worthy temple recommend holder, in a church sense I'm also at that point, just as worthy as anyone, doing all I can and going above and beyond when I can. Yet from time to time I feel judged because I am simply not at church, my body isn't there, my behind filling a seat, my voice not being heard in a room where a discussion on the gospel takes place yet in my home, in my mind, in my heart - and with God's approval - I am just like someone who is there for righteous reasons.  And deep down that's all the 'approval' or permission I need. No one is better than me because they are simply at church. I'm learning that it's inside your heart, what your deepest spiritual goals, desires and then acting on them and living what you believe (whether that's religion or non-religion) are the things that count in life.

This year has been all about: adjusting to being without so much help and it's been hard, but it's also been rewarding. Women are strong and so capable and I've felt that so much over the past few years of motherhood. My patience has new levels, my understanding has grown and I feel stretched to lengths I honestly didn't think possible. I'm working on myself now more than I ever have. We're doing well, but we're just exhausted and sick at this time of year. I'm doing well, I'm just exhausted and sick of judgement. I don't want my child to live in this world as it is now and I'm hoping to be the change I wish to see; one day a time I will judge people less and less.

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A little side note:

I'm glad that I'm stretching myself, I'm glad this way of life works for me and I'm glad that I self-question myself so much; it gives me an opportunity to appreciate that motherhood is the making of me, that this is my best and I can finally see that and appreciate it for what it is. I finally know, really know, what I want from my life and that's my son, my faith, my relationship and my family.

At the End of the Day.

Today this is the only photo I managed to get of Roman. I'm drawing a close on my 366 Project and these days I'm getting close to the end of our days and remembering I haven't taken my photo for the day. 

I'm also finding that we're increasingly indoors these days due to the weather and darkness - dark by 4pm, anyone? Such is life in Scotland. Amongst the gloom of the night and the cold of the frost I found a warm spot in my heart for this little boy. In amongst his cheeky antics of bouncing on my bed and trying to rid me of my moisturising cream I did what I always do; laughed and just loved him. 

It's also startling to me how much he's grown (just over 3ft now!) but that his little face still stays rounded; so much like the little face that was staring back at me this time last year, yet he's grown and stretched out in every way possible.

O Christmas Tree.

When I asked Ro to pose in front of the tree that we'd spent time decorating and debating on which part of the room it would look best from. Our Christmas tree is one for ants, it's small and it's seen better days but it's part of our traditions and so it stays. 

Every year I've managed to get a picture like this - all three Christmases that I've shared with Roman - but of course none quite like this. I asked him to get into the frame, he obliged but not before removing the top he had on and putting on his rather smart suit jacket.

And for records sake here are the past two Christmases in front of the tree:

(This was taken on the run-up to Roman's first Christmas which was by all accounts very tame as Christmases go.)

 

Last Christmas (2011.) This picture was actually taken on Christmas Day - the top he's wearing here, and that has been heavily featured throughout my 366 Project this year, was a Christmas present from gran and papa.

Hats On.

These pair have a set of (almost) matching hats. Roman's hat is far snazzier, of course, because he's two and that's allowed ;). We were almost out of the door tonight, to go to a church class, when I snapped a few photos for my 366 Project...oh the times I almost forget to take a photo! I'm so glad I got this snap shot of time - where Roman is this small and Bryan towers over him. I'm so sure that give or take a few years down the line that Roman will definitely catch up with Bryan on the height ;).

No More Cheese.

I made up a roll and (vegan) cheese for Roman today. We were in somewhat of a rush and so I moved his high chair into the hall so I could supervise him in my rush to get ready and get out the door. I caught glimpses of him pulling off the cheese and eating it, rather than tucking into the roll itself. When he'd successfully ate all the cheese there were tears and this heart broken face, with a plea for more cheese.

"There's no more cheese," I gently informed him and that tipped the upset into a rage.

"CHEEEEESEEEEEEEEEEE! WANT CHEEEEEEEEEEEESEE!"

I told him again there was no cheese, explained it was okay to be annoyed about this fact but asked him not to shout. "You can be angry, but there is no reason to shout." And he stopped shouting. Lately I've been noticing that his understanding is improving at a scary rate - scary because there are times when I believe he won't 'get' something and then he surprises me by proving that he understands it far better than I have given him credit for. Though this doesn't happen an awful lot when it does happen I'm thrown ever so slightly - and again reminded: he's growing up.

Just This.

Wrapped up in your 'leetle poo-poose' (as you call your/my blanket) there are no words for the cuteness that kills me. 

And the back story to this photo? Bryan is off every Friday (praise the heavens) and today, which happened to be a Friday, I was in bed dying under my duvet. All day I was descended upon; little (big?) bites of my food taken, my personal space invaded and knowing that I have no chance to recover my headache or energy levels and though I'm not too happy, in fact I was very grumpy about this, I love the little moments; the memories we make on our king sized bed.

Solidarity.

As a sign of solidarity Roman decided he'd join me on my plan to eat healthier. Every time I open up a sugar free jelly he rushes to my feet, eyelashes fluttering and mouth wide open ready to receive his share ;). And how can I say no?

Wipe Nose.

Lately Roman has been displaying baby traits - he wants to be wrapped in a blanket, cuddled an awful lot, is fairly attached to me and sleeps loads. His normal routine is bed at 7pm, then awake anywhere between 8-10am. He takes a two/three hour nap in the afternoon and then he'll wake and eat so much food that I can't quite believe my eyes; hardly a scrap is wasted.

But despite all the other advancements in his development his speech is coming on so rapidly - sentences are getting longer, new words repeated back to me, understanding and able to name colours, random pointing and shouting out of numbers, too ;). "Dry nose," Roman said to me today, grabbing a fist full of toilet paper, balling it up and dabbing his nose with it. I couldn't do anything but laugh. Later on it was this scene pictured above; a quick grab for the blanket round his shoulders and exclaiming "wipe nose! Wipe nose!" over and over. He amuses me that boy ;).

Once Upon A Potty.

A very nice book arrived today. It's a book all about using the potty, where our bodily functions come from and makes toilet using less scary for little ones - and their parents!

While we were in Thurso Roman asked me several times to put him on the toilet. I obliged his requests but nothing happened. This is odd as he usually does pee when he asks for the toilet or manages to pull down his pants to use his potty. We've gone off course with this potty and toilet thing but as soon as Roman was at home from Thurso he has used the toilet several times quite happily and very freely. My mum was here for a good week or so after we got home and sang to Roman 'pee pee in the toilet!' which he has been chanting ever since whenever there is toilet talk around here.

I've been putting off getting this book until I really went at the toilet using with Roman...but I bought it last week from Amazon and it arrived this morning while I was sleeping. I had been banking on giving it to Roman on Monday, when he starts full time toilet using/independence, but like I said; it arrived while I was sleeping and Bryan gave it to Roman this morning ;). I'm glad as it seems to have sparked off Roman's interest to using the toilet again and I'm hoping that come Monday, despite the odd hiccup, we'll crack this thing together (me, Roman and Bryan when he's around.)

This book is really lovely and is a gentle way to introduce children into the world of full time potty/toilet using. It also comes as a 'girl' or 'boy' version and this is handy as it explains where pee and poo come from. Also...if you're squeamish with cartoon poop or pee; probably not your kind of book. As for Roman? He loves it. He waves his hand up to his nose and shouts; ""PEEOOWW!" at the poo scenes ;). 

Husband and Child.

Two tired faces, with a little tired wave to sweeten my day. 

Whenever I see a photo of Bryan I can't quite believe how tall he is. He stands well over my 5'4 height at 6'2. I wonder what height Roman will be, if he'll tower over me the way Bryan does or if he'll be an average height (or as Bryan likes to call us average people: midgets.)

I can't help but wonder what the life of a tall person is like - maybe like living in a dolls house where everything seems mini-sized? 

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 ;).

It's A Toddlers Life.

A little stretch, a yawn and a nose pick. Life as a toddler is this.

Emotions Running High.

We're having a few challenging days this week because of limited naps. He wasn't sleeping brilliantly at night so we tried to limit - and even cut down on - naps. However very quickly we both realised that he needed naps. Without them he crashes in the middle of the day and is quick to get annoyed with everything.

Today was one of those days where he woke early from his nap and then was completely fed up for the remainder of the day. I was under the impression that he'd fall straight into bed and go to sleep but I couldn't be more wrong. When I went to get him - to change his nappy and put him back to sleep - he was as happy as a clam. He wanted to have a shot on his potty and read a book with me as well as lavish me and Bryan with cuddles.

Sometimes I don't understand the quickly changing moods and sometimes, and I say this very shame-faced, I can't contain my own frustrations with the moods. I'm used to toddlers; I've been around them far longer than I've been around newborns or one year old's and yet I feel like this toddler, Roman, is teaching me things I've never dealt with before. I didn't think that would be possible, but it definitely is. Every child really is different, my dad told me that when I was a teenager after he expected each of his children to be the same, but I didn't really hear what he was saying - nor did I really believe it. Now I'm living it. And for the majority of the time I'm loving it and when I'm not loving it, I'm praying to love it - and for myself; that I can keep up with all these shifts of emotion, that I can be three seconds ahead of my own changing emotions and keep them in check accordingly and when I get it wrong that I will have the strength to forgive myself.

Briarlands Farm.

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With our feet and public transport as our means of getting about our options can be limited when doing things with Roman. 

When the weather was better I decided to check out some local venues that could be fun and educational to visit but felt a touch disappointed when I realised that Briarlands Farm was completely inaccessible to us. The main thing that drove me towards it was the idea that we could pick our own strawberries - which we ended up not doing at all today! Ha.

Luckily my sister Fi and her boyfriend Neil came to the rescue when they came along with us to the farm - and were able to take us there. It was fairly cheap to get in and while they didn't have many animals on display (which was disappointing) Roman was quite pleased with the animals they did have out. Especially the 'pinks' - his name for pigs. I think if he could have managed to squeeze himself in there with them he definitely would have ;). 

I was glad we went - even if the animals were fewer in numbers than expected and the strawberries were all picked by 4pm - but I think Roman was very tired out when we got home when he had a massive melt down - the melt down to top all melt downs, it was truly horrendous to watch because he was clearly distraught and very, very tired and there isn't an awful lot any parent can do in that circumstance. I'm happy to report that he went off to bed relatively happily - and quickly - and while I'm a big advocate of expressing yourself, whether for better or worse, I don't like the thought of him going to bed with some unresolved sadness lurking at the end of the day.

Heat Wave.

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Lately I've been feeling like I've stumbled into some parallel universe and we actually live in Tuscany instead of Scotland with this crazy heatwave we've been having - it just won't quit! Your first unbearable heat of summer, living in Scotland, after you've lived through two relatively mild summers.

You don't make any complaints, you wear your hat with no upset and *gulp* you even say things like; 'grease on, no cancer and die.' 'Grease' is the name given to the sun cream we apply to his pale skin every time we go out (and top him up with, as well as ourselves) and Bryan, being the blunt speaker that he is, informed Roman of the risks of not wearing his 'grease.' Now he won't stop saying it. 

Roman is even at the point of lecturing and reminding me to wear my 'grease' so I don't get cancer and die. Weird thing is that when I have these little reminders I actually put my grease on, remembering that my skin isn't superhero skin that can somehow bounce the sun's rays ;). 

I took this picture just before 6pm. At night. It looks like the middle of the day. That sun does not want to sleep and I'm beginning to feel personally tormented by its heat. Also, because of the heat it's messing around with Ro's sleeping pattern, so we take little walks like this to tire him out - and it works. Bless those little legs that carry him.

Shiny Happy.

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I was in two minds about this photo today. For a start it was one of those photos that looked spectacular in the camera and then very different on my computer. Still, it shows what today was full of; a happy sweaty little face smiling back at me.

And after the photo was taken? Well he saw I was a little unsteady in my crouched down position and decided to push me over - cheeky little thing ;).

Full of Cheek.

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It was hard choosing a photo today but this won because he was so proud of himself in nabbing this shower gel bottle before I had the chance to tell him to put it back ;).

I was running the shower when I took this photo and his favourite thing to do is push bottles of shower gel and shampoo into the bath as the water runs into it - I have no idea why but he kills himself with a giggle fit every time. I love the happiness he gets from simple pleasures.

Goodbye to the Grandparents.

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It's one of those shots where the only person who knows where to look is the professional model (my mum) ;).

So today I was tired and emotional - tired because Roman has been sick, got up early and caused hell on mine and B's sleeping patterns and emotional because today was the day my mum went back home, 6 and a half hours away. She's been here for 2 weeks, spending 5 days in between at my grans. Knowing she was going away and coming back last week I was quite happy to send her away (I would have loved to have been selfish and keep her to myself, of course) but today I knew it was the day to say goodbye - for a while - and even though we kept saying goodbye I'm not sure Roman understood the concept so well.

I took him to the door to say goodbye, then to the gate, and then we walked to the car to say it. He was absolutely fine, took it completely in his stride...and then they drove away. When I began to walk back in with him, he ran to the gate and shouted; 'CAR! CAR! CAAAR! WANT!' I felt absolutely awful by this point. He totally lost the plot when we got back into the house and I was tempted to ring my parents up and tell them to come back. I felt unable to deal with two meltdowns in two days - I know that's probably nothing to a lot of parents but I do not like these meltdowns. I honestly don't want another one for a very long time because I'm not used to them at all.

When we got into the living room, he just lost it. Tears, a red face, lots of screaming, shouting 'door, door!' for me to open the door and it dawned on me that I was really tired and emotional watching him like this. On one hand I began to question my own parenting; have I spoiled him? What am I doing wrong? Have I done anything wrong? Is this normal? and on the other hand I felt all at sea with these new outbursts of pure...rage. Frustration, rage, anger - whatever you want to call it. Roman was not happy that his gran had left. I could tell because I was feeling the same way. I didn't want my mum to leave. But over the years I've learned to dampen that hurt when someone leaves - because I know they will come back.

He doesn't know if they'll come back. He doesn't really understand the concept of time just yet. He doesn't understand 'just wait five minutes' let alone 'just wait another few weeks/months and we'll see them again.' And that's why he lost it. He got attached, got used to the way things were over the past two weeks and most likely didn't even think about the departure my mum would inevitably make when her two weeks was up.

Through his upset I remembered a technique my dad (pictured above) used to use on us and instead of me making animal noises and asking 'what does the doggy/pig/cat/horsey say?' I picked up my photography magazine to the page of a polar bear, made a growl and kept at it until his curiosity brought him to me. It's not that I was trying to stop his upset - if he's upset, it's allowed - but it was a way to calm things down and get his attention onto happier things. Of course it worked. But my heart was breaking from his outburst - I felt to blame or as if I should have done something to stop it from happening - what more could I have done? 

I just wonder when it will stop hurting. That extra sore spot hurt you get when your child is hurting, whether that be emotionally or physically. It's like being hit between the eyes and kicked in the stomach at the same time.

One More Time.

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Today we went to Stirling to get a few last minute Birthday things - I tied up most of my loose ends at home and work and off we went. My mum was also making her way down from Thurso so we met up with her at the train station and all went home together. 

During the time between meeting up with her and going home me, Ro and B all walked around shops and chilled. We also made our obligatory visit to a popular health food store and bought Roman some dinner, which is what he is stuffing his face with in the photo.

When we got home I was so pleased with his little face - that little boy has always loved his food, that's for sure. I thought today's photo would be a picture of Roman and my mum but I really loved this little cheeky pot staring back at me in the photos. My one year old, one more time and for a few hours longer while he turns into my two year old.

I thought today would be filled with emotions I wouldn't know what to do with, but actually, I'm just so happy to get to these two years without any life altering events or devastating childhood illnesses. Two years seems like a long time, or it used too, until I became a mother. Honestly. It's gone so fast.

I'm sure I'll have a glut of photos to share tomorrow so for now I'll leave you with Roman's birth story, which you can read here.