KettaBell

Roman and his 'kettabell' (kettlebell.) I had spent the day in bed, sick as usual, when I handed over my camera to Bryan and asked him to get a picture of Roman and this is the result of that ;).

Tired.

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It seems like he never stops most days. Just a ball of boundless energy, hurtling towards you at 200mph.

But today, after a very busy morning of this:

I think he had every right to be tired ;).

Boy on a Box.

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We had a knock at the door just as Bryan was heading out this afternoon. "Are you expecting a parcel?" he asked me, knowing full well I might be. But for once I couldn't recall buying anything on-line. Of course no sooner had the question left his lips than it was answered by the delivery man, who was from a large chain store dropping off Roman's (early) birthday present from my mum. Some much needed storage for his room. 

As parents to the most lavished upon little boy ever it's hard to be creative about birthday present ideas - storage ranks pretty highly on 'he needs this for his room, but it's kinda boring.' 

Well, he didn't find it boring ;). He loved the fact it had a 'seat' for him and he loved lifting up the lid and putting it back on again. The box has two compartments so I told Roman 'your plastic things will go in here and your cloth/soft toys go in here' not expecting him to understand a word of what I said. I then later saw him putting a name brand plastic building block into the plastic compartment ;). I don't know if he understands or it's just coincidence but I was impressed either way.

Roman is also mighty curious. He used to love the windows in our old flat because they were quite low and with a toy box propped up against the window he could look out onto the street. Now it's a case of standing up on this new toy box, craning his neck a little and getting a good eyeful from his vantage point of the comings and goings of our neighbours. I think he's very pleased with this gift.

Although he loves to jump off the sofa, while B catches him. Well, today he said, 'jump! jump! jump!' which is usually a way of telling us he wants to jump but not necessarily a precursor to doing so. 

So it was his usual jump chant and all of a sudden he'd leaped off the box, we look round to see a little boy in a heap on the floor - laughing his head off, no less! 

Day one of the box and already it's multi-purpose ;).

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.