Playing With My Son

Today Adam and I are off to view at flat at noon so have spent the morning playing in the house. He watched some CBeeBies, managed to draw on the front room door while I was on the phone, so had timeout (it wiped right off, BTW), played with his barn and then sort of wandered around so I asked him if he’d like to play with puzzles? He loves puzzles so I got an enthusiastic nod of the head.

Now anyone who has read this blog for more than 2 seconds knows I have some minor mobility issues so playing on the floor is very very hard for me. Alas, the puzzle Adam picked was this Tractor Floor Puzzle that his aunt and uncle sent him for his birthday

I love this puzzle with it’s big colourful pieces and interesting ending shape but it has to be put together on the floor or a table. Adam isn’t quite up to sitting at the table so on the floor I go. Which hurts.

But I do it anyway, because it’s a chance to sit with my son and do something we both enjoy. Once it was together I suggested he grab one of his board ones that can be done sitting in my lap but he was done with puzzles just then.

So maybe I can’t play with hours on the floor, or run around after him the way Simon does, but we do play. In fact, he’s just brought me a board puzzle. I think we have just enough time to do it before we have to get ready to go out.

 

Just A Quick What The Heck Is Going On Update

Adam ill again.

Me swamped with work.

Simon swamped with work.

Looking for a place to live.

Trying to keep up with household and business accounts.

Couple of evening video gigs.

Simon’s parents down this past weekend.

Adam adding words daily including ‘Oh Dear’ from his grandad this weekend! This culminated in him deliberately dropping food off his highchair yesterday saying ‘Oops. Oh Dear.’

So life is good. If a bit frantic!!!

Another Sleep Deprived Night

Adam has been ill again and so not sleeping great. I helped that some what the night before last by sleeping with him but last night I was out at a gig and Simon decided he was well enough to sleep in his own bed.

Unfortunately, that was a wrong plan. Adam woke up about 130, apparently, and wouldn’t resettle. I finally heard him (I was in the spare room as it was my ‘night off’) around 230 and moved Simon to the spare room and got into bed with Adam. At 330 Adam was done even lying down. So we are in the front room, Adam is playing and I am writing this blog post. In about an hour I’ll get Simon up and I’ll get a couple of more hours before Simon needs to get to work. I have a ton of work to do today as well so I’ll see how Adam is and if he seems okay send him off to daycare as usual. Well, not usual, he usually goes on Thursdays, but I switched it last week so I could process the video from last night’s gig. But if he’s impossible he’ll stay with me and I’ll work around him. It’s not ideal, but I’ve done it before.

So I have decided that we are going back to co-sleeping. Adam has not been sleeping well, or all night, in his own bed and I am done with my own sleep being disrupted to bring him into bed and shift everyone around in the middle of the night. Some will say Simon and I have ‘made a rod for our own back’ on this issue, but I think that phrase means nothing. My goal is to get everyone as much sleep as possible. If that means going back to co-sleeping, such is life. It won’t be forever.

This Too Shall Pass. I wonder if I have the skills to embroider that on a sofa cushion…

Once Again

Happy Birthday to Adam who is 2 today!!

Some pictures:

Opening Presents

All his loot.

LIft! Lift! Lift!

Waiting to ride the lift at Victoria Square, his birthday treat. (Ah to be 2!)

Who me?

Cake!!!

And, for the record, we did our best to measure him today.  Just about 36 inches. They say double it to find his adult height. So just about 6 feet. Not taller than Daddy as we thought he would be (Simon is 6’2″) but definitely taller than Mama!

I wonder how long I have until that happens…

My Greatest Fear

I can’t link to it, because of The Times paywall, but Melanie Reid’s Spinal Column in today’s Times Magazine really hit home.

Her bio from the magazine says “Times columnist Melanie Reid broker her neck and back last year. Now back home after 12 months’ rehab in hospital, this week she reflects on her changing role as wife and mother.”

She currently can’t walk and can barely use her arms. She is trying very hard to walk again. But the thing that frustrates her the most? The loss of her hands. She says “I can cope with being in a wheelchair; what cripples me is my numb, clawed fingers.”

Oh yes. That is what scares me. That the arthritis in my hands will become so bad that I won’t be able to use them. Won’t be able to type or write or, some day, drive again.

Melanie’s son is in University, but she still laments that she can’t help him as she used to. He rings, during exams, looking for help with a headache and a lack of food. And instead of being able to jump in her car and bring him migraleave and some food, she talks to him on the phone.

My son still needs nappies changed and picking up and helping with getting dressed. Some of those things will pass soon, but some will go on for years yet. What if my hands stop me from doing them? I already can’t play with him as much as I would like as I can’t sit on the floor for long because of my legs. How much more will I have to hand over to someone else if I lose my hands as well?

I already get frustrated with opening packets, jars, sometimes even the milk jug as my fingers refused to grip them hard enough to turn. I have items that help, rubber mats and things, but sometimes stubborn me would rather keep trying, to deny that I can’t do it, then spend the minute to dig them out of their drawer.

And, of course, I have Simon. Who always comes right to me if I say ‘Can you open the milk, my hands are quite bad today.’ But I hate having to ask.

And, let’s not forget, I am a graphic artist. Yes, I use a mouse not a pen and paper, but what if I lose even that ability? Terry Pratchett, world famous Disc World author, turned to voice recognition software when he began to show signs of Alzheimer’s disease, including some neurological issues with his hands. I don’t think the same would work for a graphics. How to you speak your graphic thoughts out loud?

So it worries me. The possible loss of my hands.

But, like so many things in my life, there is nothing I can do about it. If they stop working, I’ll cope. I’ll cope as I always do.

But I’ll hate every minute of it.

Random Thoughts From City Centre

Tour guide saying ‘Belfast is a town of religious balance’ is the ultimate in irony as half of city centre closes for a bomb alert.

Oh, you poor dear. Your son is adorable but just because my son is nearly 2 does not mean he sleeps through all the time. Enjoy your 8 week old. And don’t worry about him grizzling. My two year old screamed through most of Tesco today.

The choice was between 2 bottles for £5 and a bottle for £4.99 that said the vineyard was started by the Knights Templar. Knights Templar bottle won, hands down.

No chocolate tarts available yet at Spring Continental Market. Chocolate Belgian Waffles acquired instead.

Speaking of which, I swear they were 3 for something last year, like £2 each or 3 for £5. Now they are either £2 or £3 each. Yes, we have 2 providers of Belgian Waffles in Chocolate this year. And 2 ice cream stalls. Oh and a candy floss stall.

Adam’s screaming fit was due to Castle Court not being open so he couldn’t go to the play area and/or ride the lift. How do you explain bomb threats and security alerts to a 2 year old?

There was an H&W ship called Traffic?!?

To Harness or Not to Harness

This issue is debated almost as much as breast versus bottle and SAH versus WOH.

When walking down the street, my son wears a harness. He is a small boy. He’s not very street savvy. We live in the middle of the city. He doesn’t like to hold hands.

Therefore, he wears a harness.

Do I get looks? Yes.

Do I care? No.

This is one of those issues that makes me question humanity at times. Dogs need to be on leashes. In fact, in a lot of places no leash equals a fine. So why is your dog, who is not very street savvy and won’t hold hands, more precious than my son?

Also, I’m not very tall, but I am taller than Adam. How uncomfortable it must be to be more or less pulled along by an arm that is over your head. Imagine doing that yourself. No chance to explore or stop for a second to look at that interesting bug over there before running to catch up.

Adam has perfect freedom within the length of his harness lead.

He loves it.

And so do I.

I Was Going To Do A Whole Entry About

Bin Laden’s death but then decided my blood pressure couldn’t take it. Suffice it to say I think it was a bad move.

In other, closer to home, news…with the exception of last night when he was ill, Adam has slept in his own bed since last Wednesday night! Simon and I just decided it was time. And we were right.

Adam’s illness has been very odd. Threw up Monday night, woke up with a fever Tuesday morning that kept going up despite calpol/nurophen, finally spiking at 103.8, when I called the GP, who had us come up.  His ear is red and his throat was *very* red so he has antibiotics. By the time we got home from the GP, his fever was gone. He went to bed as usual, in his room.  I was settling myself in bed when I heard him wake up and cough, so I went in to him. He was very hot and couldn’t re-settle so I had him on his changing table to  check his temp again when he gagged. I grabbed the vomit bowl just.In.Time!

So we settled him with me. About 30 minutes later he spit up and threw up in my bed, but only hitting one pillow and the bottom sheet. And his PJs. So got him cleaned up and resettled, gave him some Diorlyte, took him back to bed, he crashed.

2am back awake. More dirolyte and then back to sleep by 3. He slept until 8ish and woke up with no fever, no vomiting and has been himself all day.

Weirdest 24 hour bug I’ve ever seen!

Simon and I agree

Less leftover cheese after it’s grated for quesadillas is a small price to pay for such a lovely little man in our lives!

It used to be that I’d grate the cheese and then give Simon a big hunk of leftovers. Now he and Adam split the big hunk and get a small hunk each.

We realized this when Simon was on the phone when I was handing out said cheese.

Simon came back into the kitchen and said, ‘Is this for me?’ pointing to the hunk on the cutting board.

‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Adam already has his.’

And then I continued ‘You used to get more, before there was Adam.’ with a big grin.

Simon grinned back and said ‘I was just thinking that.’

Subtext – glad to have less cheese and an Adam!