Blue Eyed Angel In A Bath.

There is something angelic about this photo; something holy, innocent and pure about it. Maybe it's the white bath and matching tiles, maybe it's the innocence of Roman - and that heavenly smile. Then the eye is drawn to the black eye and it makes me so sad that even toddlers have to suffer with hay fever. He was rubbing his eye so hard that it got all red, puffy and eventually this shiner appeared :(.

Making Decisions.

Over the past few days I've made some decisions about where I want my life 'to go.' Last night as I sat watching a programme about old people in poverty in the UK (yes, it happens) there was one old lady in particular who local residents in her community despised. The famous person staying with her made the comment that 'if you don't like people, people generally don't like you.' I think that's very true and can be applied to a lot of areas of our lives. If you lack the wherewithal then you probably won't find it sitting at home staring into a blank space waiting for something to happen.  


I grew up with daily, weekly and monthly mantras/affirmations that always made me want to have more in my life...but the problem is that I am one of these average people in life. I won't change the world (not with that attitude, right? But it's true and I'm happy with this knowledge), I won't be recorded in history books, I won't create a movement that inspires, encourages or initiates change in a nation. I'd say I have average intelligence; I'm not an idiot, but I'm no Issac Newton. I won't be anything I want to be. I won't quit my life, but I won't massively succeed in the way the world wants me too, either. I don't know if I'll ever see the day beyond living below a line that tells me we're living in poverty...Western poverty (we don't starve, but we struggle), but apparently it's still poverty all the same. It appears that unless you hit a certain class/income bracket you'll never dig yourself out of that one; history and anthropology says so and it's only a small clutch of individuals with a lot of luck and a great idea that do make it out.


I lack the talent, ability, intelligence and everything in between to be anything more than I am. And for the first time in 26 years, I'm okay with that. In fact there's a few lyrics to go with how I feel about it all:

I am what I am

And what I am needs no excuses

I deal my own deck

Sometimes the aces sometimes the deuces

It's one life and there's no return and no deposit

One life so it's time to open up your closet

Life's not worth a dam till you can shout out

I am what I am

I will tell Roman that he can give things a shot, but if he's not any good at it - it's okay! I'll say that some things are impossible and that the world is a terrifying place to be a part of. But I will also remind him that he can either live life laughing or crying through it all. I'm real. I'm not a positive person at all and this doesn't make me awful, despite a life time of feeling like it. Being realistic is better than giving yourself false hope and a handful of pipe dreams. 


So I'll work hard on finding a way to make a second income, I'll work hard in my life, my work, my parenting and in my church callings but there is one thing: I won't expect the world and I'll not be let down when I don't get it. If none of the above works out there is one lesson I'll have learned and that's that I gave something a fighting shot, but if it doesn't work out - that's okay!


So no more mantras, no more affirmations, no more belief in something that is impossible to reach - I am what I am. And I'm okay with that.

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.

Boys Who Bake...

I come from a family who bake, this means that Roman does too. It's in our genes, in our blood and to get it out of our systems we must bake something yummy every week...or at least me and this boy do. I normally bake with him on a Friday morning and then we spend the afternoon swimming, you know to work off those calories ;).

This morning it was a well rehearsed baking session as I've become so practiced in the art of distraction and removing items I don't want a little mouth venturing near - I failed on this when I turned my back to wash the spoon from the icing...Roman was drinking the 'last bits' of the icing. 

The photo is when I handed him the whisk, after I'd used it, and let him have at it. Not adding eggs to the ingredients brings me back to my childhood; before people knew all the ins and outs of salmonella poisoning and children licked the bowl/spoon/whisk very happily. That is the one joy of cooking egg-free.

It's still a bit of a task to bake stuff in the time frame I'd like to - for instance it took us 20 minutes or so to get these from the packet to the oven because of so much stopping and starting, but we're getting there. It's getting easier as we practice, it's getting easier as I let him be more involved (that's hard, I have my compulsions, rituals and I am a perfectionist to top it all off) and the emotional outbursts from both sides seem to be less and less. Today I even enjoyed baking with him, it didn't end in tears, shouting or hair pulling (Roman.) Nope instead it ended with me laughing at the boy who was drinking the 'last bits' of icing very greedily from the bowl.

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.

Lemonade.

Straight in from church for a refreshing drink of left over home made lemonade.