We Are Very Excited Here in TeeVille

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in about 5 days my mother arrives for a nice long visit. We are planning lots of fun activities along with some organizing the house stuff that she will Adam wrangle during.

The original purpose of the timing of her visit was so she could Adam wrangle while I packed, thinking that we were moving the end of the month. As we have not found a place to live, that is not to be. But we are still doing a major clear out and I will get some of that done while she’s here. I mean, Adam’s 2, maybe it’s time to get ride of my maternity clothes?

Since her basic premise for coming was Adam wrangling, my step-dad decided to not come with her. So Pops is staying home, playing golf, probably reading a lot and eating things he’s not suppose to while Grandma comes to play. We’ll miss him, of course. But I think he will enjoy it. Especially the eating things he’s not suppose to part. Grandma is very strict! 🙂

This, BTW, is my mother: –
2010 february shelley

Isn’t she gorgeous? And, in case you’re wondering, she was 71 in March. This picture was taken last year when she was 70.

As I said at the time, did I get good genes or what?!?!

The Weirdest Things Fill Me With Pride…

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Until recently there was some concern that Adam had a speech delay. He was barely speaking, although babbling incessantly, and I was starting to get worried.

And then he approached two and started adding new words daily. And started using 2 words together like ‘Hi Daddy!’ and ‘Night Night Daddy!’ (yeah, we’re still lacking some Mummy!!). He still doesn’t talk much around strangers, including at nursery, who say ‘he’s quiet but fun!’, but he talks a lot at home.

And then he says things that make my heart swell with pride. Stupid things. Things that would make other people would look at me like this: O_o

Yesterday, for example, it was picking up his pacifier, showing it to me and saying ‘Dummy.’ Then he nodded and put it back down.

I thought I was going to cry.

I still might at the memory.

I am adoring watching him grow and learn and understand. He still has so much to learn. Numbers and colours and words and writing. Maths and science and drawing.

But there is so much he already knows. Where to put the trash. Which bin his dirty clothes go into. How to step out of trousers (so long as he holds on!).

And how to wear Mummy’s trainers:

Mummy’s Sick Day

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What’s that you say? Mummy’s don’t get sick days?

Usually true. But this Mummy has been feeling horrid for at least a week. Missed sleep, stress of ill boy, stress of an emergency with a client (which is thisclose to being resolved, thank god) and, as of this afternoon, a low lever fever led to me saying to Simon ‘I’m taking to my bed on Thursday.’

And I did.

This, of course, was only made possible by three factors. Factor one: Adam at daycare. Factor two: Simon off work on holiday and able to get Adam to and from said daycare. Factor three: the ability to ignore my to do list, which is still as long as my arm and growing all the time.

So I got up with my boys as usual. And the second they were out the door I was back in bed. And there I stayed. Slept. Read some stuff on my phone. Actually did about 5 minutes of work dealing with said clients said emergency. Ate lunch in bed. Slept some more.

I’m still not feeling great and will try to have an early night. But I would feel worse if I had pushed myself, my spoons were so low already.

So Mummy had a sick day.

And feels a bit better for it.

Memories…

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After a month of a sick child equalling very bad or very little sleep my memory and aphasia have, once again, taken a nose dive. When this happens I always start thinking about memory and memories in general.

I have very few childhood memories. I have no idea why this is but you’ll find my brother says the same thing. Makes me wonder, sometimes, what we’ve both blocked.

The memories I do have are (mostly) good ones.

I remember being in our condo in Manchester Connecticut and my dad bought a new stereo that could record tapes and my brother and I making a recording and getting called to dinner. I remember then wondering why all that time at dinner wasn’t a big empty space on the tape.

I remember my dad’s CB radio in our playroom of our first house in Westport.

I also remember having cousins or maybe friends over to stay and we were all sleeping down in that same playroom and there was a burning smell (I was asleep) and I woke up to a house full of firemen because we had placed a sofa cushion over a light and it had burned.

I remember sitting under the big tree in front of that same house crying as my divorcing parents fought in the living room. My brother was with me.

I remember the poem my step-dad wrote me when I got my stereo for my birthday. Not exactly what it said but that he went to the trouble. Something about ‘always trying to do what she aughta.’ He was lying. :O)

I remember packing my car to drive to Iowa to go to University.

And every time Adam climbs up on a piece of furniture I remember a picture. It is of me as quite a small baby, only a few months old, if that. My mom is holding me on a sun lounger in the backyard of our house in Holliston MA and my brother, who is only 22 months older than me,  is in the act of climbing up to join us. Adam climbs just like his uncle.

I do often wonder, though, what I’ve forgotten…

Smoking…My One True Addiction

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So on or about 18th October 2008 I quit smoking. That was the day I woke Simon by bursting into our bedroom at 6 am shouting ‘This thing says pregnant!!’

I managed to not smoke for my whole pregnancy and about the 1st year of Adam’s life. And then things turned upside down. My great night sleeper turned into a nightmare sleeper thanks to surgery and colds and flu and D&V and and and…

And I all I wanted to help with my exhaustion? A cigarette. Oh how good a cigarette would taste.

And about a year ago, after he’d been in daycare for a few months, I succumbed. I bought a 10 pack. I told Simon, who was very disappointed in me but agreed I was a grown up. And I promised him I wouldn’t smoke around Adam.

And I haven’t. I smoke when he’s at daycare. Or after he’s in bed. Or having a nap during the day.

But last night I decided to try and quit again. Smoking comes out of my weekly allowance budget and I want that money for other things. I don’t like the way it makes me feel. Or smell.

And I have enough health problems without adding tar and cyanide to the mix.

So today I proclaim my first day as a non-smoker.

I just hope I can stick with it.

Letter To My Son – Adam – 25 Months Old

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Dear Adam

That’s right, Mummy is going to try and keep up with these. But no promises!

Today you are 25 months. You spent most of the month between 24 and 25 months ill. But Mummy went postal (sort of) at the GP and you now have been referred to ENT. So now we wait.

When Mummy says she ‘went postal’ what she means is that she was very firm as the GP once again said ‘we need to see how he is in a month or two’ Mummy pointed out that GPs have been saying that to her for about a year. So the GP looked closer at your file and counted antibiotics since January. 6. That’s about 1 a month and is many too many. So the referral was written.

You are also probably going to be referred to Allergy, once I get you in to see the head GP. He spoke to the nice Laura Lady, our Health Visitor, and agreed things seems allergy related but wants to see you himself before he’ll send a referral. Fair enough.

Your 2 year check was fine. You, of course, didn’t say a word until the very end, but you did stack blocks and engage with Laura a bit so she was satisfied. You wouldn’t step on her scale so she took Mummy’s word that you are 28 pounds and about 3 feet tall!

Major milestones this month have included drinking from an open cup: –
Look at MEEE!!!!

 

And climbing on playground equipment: –

Up...

Since you missed so much nursery being ill you’re having a bit of trouble at drop off but Mummy and Daddy know you’ll settle again soon. And they are moving you to toddlers! My good big boy!!

You may note that Mummy has started to call herself Mummy regularly. That’s because you *finally* call me Mummy! Not all the time. But more than you used to. And when Mummy complains that all you seem to say is Mummy Mummy Mummy all day, remind her how long she waited for you to call her anything at all.

Love

Mummy

Torchwood – Miracle Day

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First of all fair warning: there will be spoilers in this post for Torchwood – Children of Earth. It was on 2 years ago and that’s long enough for people to have seen it.

So last night we watched the new US/UK version of Torchwood. And it was ‘meh’.

This is for a couple of reasons. The first being that, apparently, Children of Earth never happened, with the exception of The Hub being blown up. No one other than Jack and Gwen seem to remember the 456 (even though the numbers are used in Miracle Day, they don’t seem to reference the aliens) or the fact that 10% of the children of Earth were to be taken. Never mind that Jack killed his grandson to stop them. This made him, in my and others estimation, unredeemable. I just don’t care about him any more after that action. Life of the one for the life of the many, yeah yeah, whatever. I personally think Russell T wrote himself into a corner and took the worst way out possible.

The other reason I was disappointed was because you hear ‘US Alien show’ and you think big explosions, major special effects, great costumes. This had maybe 3 explosions, none of the huge, and the special effects they did have were, frankly, gross. Way over the top gross, in fact.

So I will continue to watch, as Simon will continue to watch. And we are both interested to see what the difference is between the US and the UK version, as we know there will be differences.

But it needs to get much much better before I’ll fall in love with it.

And…I miss Ianto. *sniff*

Orangefest? Really?

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So we are rapidly entering Marching Season here in Belfast. Well, parades have already happened, but next week is the biggy, the 12th July Holiday when the Loyal Orange Lodges take to the streets for one big and many little parades. There are also bonfires and, unfortunately, sometimes riots.

I don’t know all of the history, not having been here during The Troubles, but there is a lot of information on The Twelfth here at Wiki. Perhaps not the best source, but at least it’s easy to understand.

Especially as the history of Ireland and Northern Ireland are not easy at all. To understand or to follow. My father-in-law has been studying The Troubles for a good part of his life and I’m not entirely sure he can explain it fully.

In any case, this week coming up is The 12th Fortnight. For the next two weeks most of the country, at least those that aren’t marching or protesting marching, head off for their holidays.  Personally, I like to stick around. Mostly because I hate holidays.

Anyway, living in City Centre is always interesting over the 12th as the helicopters circle for most of the week, keeping an eye on things.  There is some violence most years. And, of course, the parades practically pass down our street.

This year is no different, in terms of the parade route. But now it’s Orangefest. Which makes me go O_o. Especially as there seems to be no actual publicity beyond a small mention on the Belfast City Council website.

Look, I know it’s controversial. I’ve lived here long enough to appreciate that. But why give it a name (Orangefest FFS!) and then do nothing to publicize it? Nothing to make the myriad of events happening around the city next week one cohesive event?

I didn’t even know it was called Orangefest until today when I saw a sign hanging up over Royal Avenue at City Centre. Simon tells me they have been calling it that for a the past  few years. Really?

I never knew.

And I don’t really understand why they bothered.

My First Post From WordPress App

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Well, lookee here! I had no idea there was a WordPress App!

So far I like it. Seems easy to use. And, a huge plus, I can have both my blogs on it!

That’s really good for Designed To A Tee‘s blog as I often see interesting design things going about my day and now I can blog about them instantly!

iPhone keyboard isn’t the best for this but as I am hoping for an iPad soon maybe I won’t have to use my iPhone for this much longer!

Especially as we are going to win £166b in the Euromillions tomorrow.

::nods::

Morning Routine

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Oh how I hate that word. Routine. Despise it. Always have. Always will. And yet they seem to create naturally in my life.

There is one part of our morning routine, on non-nursery mornings, that hasn’t changed since Adam was born and Simon went off Paternity Leave that I adore.

After he gets out of the shower, Simon calls to Adam to join him in our bedroom. Obviously when Adam was a baby, Simon would come get him! And that’s Daddy and Adam before work time. When Adam was a baby he would lie on our bed, securely in the middle, and Simon would play and talk to him. Now that he’s older they still play on the bed but there’s usually tickling and poking and rolling around going on.

SDC10682

That’s my time, that 20ish minutes. To drink a cup of coffee. To read the internet in peace. To gear up to being 100% responsible for Adam until Simon comes home from work.

I didn’t get that 20 minutes the last week or so since Adam’s been so ill again. And I didn’t realize how truly precious it was until yesterday when he felt well enough again to go play with Daddy on the bed.

That was the best cup of coffee I have ever had.

Hands down.