A Kitchen.

Last Christmas (2011) we bought this toy kitchen for Roman. For his first Christmas I'd mostly purchased wooden puzzle toys, 'baby' toys, and this pretend kitchen signified something for me; that I wasn't buying 'baby' toys and that we were making strides into toddler hood with Roman.

No matter how much you try not to be that mum who recalls the babyhood and wants to hold onto the sweetness of it a little longer you end up being that mum. I think the harder you push not to be the blubbering mess of emotions, the easier it comes. I've let few and far things really get to me in my life; I didn't even cry at my own wedding, faked tears at my big brother's wedding and you won't find me crying at funerals - and I don't know why. It's just 'me.' But the one thing that does get to me is Roman growing up before my eyes. The one thing that really tugs on my heart is this boy and the vast changes he's made since Christmas, 2011. 

When we un-boxed this kitchen, a few days after Christmas, Roman wasn't really interested in it like I thought he would be. Sure he played with it but he wasn't really 'into' it at all. In fact he used to go between using it as a garage for the one truck and two cars he owned (given to him by other people) and knocking it down; giving him a real thrill to see our horrified reactions to his destruction. So after the 20th attempt of him trying to completely oliberate the thing I decided it would be best moved into his bedroom, where it has been housed for a good few months and has been relatively untouched.

I decided to move it back into the living room and so far Roman has been really enjoying it again, much to my delight. He quickly scampers to it in the mornings, reaching for spoons, forks, cups and his 'soya burger.' My boy is happy, my heart is happy.

Though he wasn't happy here when I announced he'd have to tidy up his kitchen so he could eat real food.

Truckin'.

I've been very careful not to overload Roman with 'boys' toys - I cringe when I see little boys  being discouraged to play with dolls, hand bags, skirts and with this in mind I wanted Roman to be free to explore the things he enjoys around him without being a major influence on his personality. And despite the things people will rudely say it doesn't mean I think he's a girl. He's a boy, there's no mistaking it, but who says boys and girls must play with (and for that matter wear) certain items? Pigeon holing someone so young based on gender is ridiculous. 

So here's a photo of my little boy who owns a grand total of two cars - both of them given by other people - wearing rocket footy pajamas and playing with a truck. My teenage self would slap my adult self, no doubt, and be totally appalled by my back pedaling. But the truth is that Roman does enjoy these toys - and increasingly is becoming very curious with trains, vans, fire engines and 'mans' (police cars) - and cutting them completely from his childhood isn't the answer, either. A little here and there won't harm his developing personality. 

He really, really enjoyed playing with this truck that was given to us - you know in case his growing pile of stuff wasn't already increasing ;). I haven't seen him so enamored with something in a long time - maybe the time a kind lady from church gave him a bunch of dinosaurs. This really wasn't the way I wanted to mother a boy, a man, a male...but it's okay, too, this truck doesn't signal the end of my morals or viewpoints on these matters. This truck is a toy, to be enjoyed by my little boy and perhaps, one day, a little girl if she should join our family.

Mothering.

136/366

This is the subject that I could write and write about forever.

Mothering. Being a mother.

It's about many things for me; a messy kitchen (not through choice), struggling and struggling to say 'help', sometimes feeling isolated in my little community of 3, a day stretching ahead and wondering at the end of it 'where did all that time go?' and mostly trying to fit everything into those days. 

Life before Roman; I think about it often but not often fondly. My life before him wasn't horrible, it was filled with purpose and with promise - a promise of all the things in front of me. I'm 26 and still so young with that age. Life was also easier in a sense that I didn't have to think ahead or worry that I'd spend 9 hours of a journey entertaining one person. In some aspects being a mother is far easier, but also far harder, than I ever dreamed it would be.

He is my life now but he doesn't consume my life - if that makes sense. We haven't spent a night apart but nor do I feel anxiety or pressure to make that happen. When it happens, it will happen just like everything else. Since the day he was born I've been sure of a few things; he has his own set of rules, his own personality and that he was and is loved by many. 

Love grows as your children grow, that's what I know. Even if they are two and a bit years old, squirming on your lap shouting 'CAARRRR!' while you're trying to document motherhood through photography with them. 

Another thing I know? Roman really likes his ride-on car toy ;).

* my hair is wet in this photo, not greasy. 

Roman's Cat.

127/366

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.

Double Standards.

He's too quick off the mark for me.

Today, after his nap, Roman made a successful grab for his VTech book. The reason it's been out of reach for so long is that it's plastic and it's dangerous.

Roman got this one as a Christmas present so I feel bad about throwing it out - plus he loves the music on it - and so we've kept it and play him the lullabies at night time.

However, before Christmas I made a pledge to myself that I wouldn't buy him plastic toys/why I wasn't happy for him to have a plastic over load in the house and blogged about it all here.

But he loved this book from the minute he saw it lighting up on Christmas Eve.

And when he grabbed it today I felt bad about letting him play with it, but on the other hand he was enjoying himself too much and I would have felt terrible pulling it away from him.

In other words, I have double standards. 

But I'll tell you something, this is the last time I go back on something like this. 

Especially as he gets older and picks up on my influence in his life. Sure, he might just think I'm some crazy lady trying to ruin his life - like every other kid in the World.

As you can all see, he is properly engrossed in this book.

I try and join in with the incessant singing and explain to him that those are some pretty sunflowers...then he snaps the page over to another page before I have the chance. He looks up at me and smiles a big grin, going back to his book - snapping shut every page before the narration is done.

Don't miss out!

Leave me a great comment.

When you comment I'll even give you a shot of my air guitar!