out came the sun

The recent rain has left our garden looking the healthiest it has ever been.  It's easy to get fed up with day after day of rain, but after the last few summers of drought and my penchant for grey days (and cups of tea), I have loved the downpours and resultant explosion of spring in our garden.

Before the boys were born, Will and I would spend most weekends in the garden, planting, weeding, mowing lawns, enjoying the green space of our home.  I loved those days, getting up early before the sun was too hot and then having to stick to the shade by 10am because of the bright sun, working away until it was too dark and then finishing the day with a cold beer and home made pizza.

We're a long way from those days but this morning, a particularly lovely, sunny morning, we had an early breakfast and all (except Max, who was napping) went down into the garden to prune and tidy up here and there, and take in the incredible, buttery scent of our gardenia and jasmine, which has grown into the most amazing wild curtain over our fence and looks beautiful.  Beautiful!  Ollie pottered about, mildly fascinated by what we were doing but more interested in playing in and around the car that I managed to clean for the first time in months.  Such a sweet little guy, enraptured in his own world and thoughts.  A far cry from the short tempered, frustrated little boy that has lately been proving to be a challenge for my patience.  Lola and Deeks appreciated the company in what is pretty much their domain and Max joined us once he was awake and quite happily watched butterflies fluttering about, branches swaying and his family hard at work.  It sounds too perfect, but it pretty much was.  

 

I really miss the old days sometimes but today, we discovered a new feeling of being a family in our green, lush garden.  Bliss.

an invitation

Next week, Ollie will be two years old.  I'm sure I'll have something philosophical and meaningful to say about it but for the mean time, I'm excited about the excuse for cake (hopefully car shaped) and the chance to send out some handmade invitations to what I hope will be a sunny afternoon garden party.



Thanks to some collective creative thought and Will's Illustrator skills (I still haven't even mastered the basics) we came up with this sweet little invitation to a small gathering we will be having in Ollie's honour. It features the shape of Ollie's first ever train, a wooden toot-toot which is already well loved and still one of his favourite toys and some cute fabric which I scanned in for Will to do his magic with.  I've simplified my explanation of the process somewhat but suffice to say these things, like most of my plans, take far longer to execute than we envisage and it ended up taking a good week of dithering before I managed to post the invitations this morning (including spending far too long choosing the fabric, the fonts and then buying the wrong envelopes).  The upshot of all this is that I'm tempted to start thinking about festive greetings for the upcoming holiday season sooner rather than later.  Maybe something incorporating Ollie's colouring skills?

I'm thinking about all the things I want to do before the big day, including working out how to fashion a car shaped butter cake, what food to prepare and what to include in the party bags that won't just end up in the bin.  List making and planning aside, fingers crossed that after all this rain, we will have sunny, blue skies, yummy cake and a nice long afternoon nap before friends arrive for what I hope will be a fun filled day for our little boy.  Toot two!

the dishwasher is broken

It seems to me that it is only when we have recognised that we don't have the spare money we used to and have we have decided to try to save every cent we can, that everything conspires to thwart our financial plans.  Whether it's the car battery needing to be replaced, or Lola needing to go to the vet, or the dishwasher breaking down, these things all seem to happen at the same time.

Bugger.

oh no!

Ollie is now putting two word sentences together.  It's only basic stuff, like 'bye bye mama' or 'no ta' but he's learning context and is now now saying 'oh no!' when he drops a toy, spills a drink, or when he sees a mess!  I think we may have heard him say it at least a hundred times - this weekend alone.

I am finding that now he's talking, we are laughing more and the happy days are that much happier.  He's learned 'parp' and is really trying to use his words and actions when he wants something, 'mama up! down, open, ni-nike (night night)' and his willingness to use his words is making every day that much easier.  But we still have trying moments.  He's going through a phase of wanting his mama to get him out of bed in the morning (otherwise the day starts very badly - for everyone) and more often than not, he wants mama to do everything, whether it's reading a story or doing bed time.  Speaking of which, bed time is not a smooth process at the moment (why not?!) and Ollie's day time sleep is becoming less of a certainty as he is growing into the headstrong little boy he's always been.  Some days we can do nothing right.

His toys of the moment are cars, screwdrivers, torches, puzzles, the driving seat of any real car and his Thomas books.  I don't much like the Thomas books but he loves them and it's worth sitting through the inane stories to see him so happy.  His fascination with books and cars and books about cars is unparalleled and he can't resist walking past a book or his papa's newspaper without opening it and having a flick through the pages (to look for a car no doubt).

The little man will be two years old in a couple of weeks.  Two!

rainbows

Last week we had some unsettled weather.  It was rainy and blustery one minute and the next, the sun would be shining.  Not so special, until I spotted a rainbow.  A big rainbow, arced across the sky like you see in pictures, absolutely perfect, bright and something I knew Ollie had never seen before.  So I managed to pry him away from playing in the dogs' water bowl (no mean feat) and pointed to the sky, to watch his little jaw drop and eyes widen at what can only be described as magic in the sky!  He was mesmerised, but a bit frightened too, and insisted on going inside and staring at it through the window (too scary to stand outside).  And then, as if it wasn't enough that he was so taken by the rainbow, he ran off into his room, his little feet padding away, where I heard him rummaging through his many (many) books... and then out he came, with a book, furiously rifled through the pages to find the only picture of a rainbow I think he's ever seen and pointed at so earnestly!  And then he looked up a the sky again.  And then at the book.  And then at the sky.  And then he looked at me.  And my heart melted.

roly poly

roly poly ever so slowly,
roly poly ever so slowly,
roly poly faster faster,
roly poly faster faster!

no sleep for ollie

Today was a long day.  It started early, with Max waking just before 6am (now for the third morning in a row).  I was impatient, tired and short tempered.  The morning went along well enough but Ollie's refusal of an afternoon nap and my general lethargy slowly turned the day into chaos and this afternoon I shouted at Ollie when I should have talked to him gently. I feel so bad about it.  I went into the little guy's room after he fell asleep tonight to apologise.  

Sometimes, and more recently most of the time, I treat Ollie as though he's older than his almost two years. I don't really have a frame of reference but I think he's a smart little boy so it's frustrating that he doesn't respond to basic questions and is really difficult to reason with.  Just writing that makes me realise how ridiculous that sounds - reasoning with a toddler?  What am I thinking?  I forget he's just a little boy.  A baby.  He understands most of what we say to him but that doesn't mean he understands why he shouldn't jump on the bed next to Max, or why it's not funny to kick when he's on the change table, why he needs to have his nappy changed (although I think he's beginning to understand that the alternative is that he uses a toilet) or why his mama needs to spend time housekeeping, cooking, washing...

On balance, Ollie's day was a good one.  He's a strong willed soul and wants to be able to do everything his way and I can't blame him for that.  (And I see myself in his stubbornness.)  He's not so different from any other toddler, except that I'm his mum.  It's me that lacks patience, it's me that worries about getting too much done and it's me that forgets to have fun during the day.  And so, tomorrow we'll start again and hopefully do things better.  And have an afternoon nap. 

uniquely derivative

There's nothing original about this blog.  I don't claim to know anything about fashion, about what is new or interesting.  I don't write with any creative flair or about anything interesting to anyone but me and my photography is at best, acceptable.  But in a couple of months, it will be a year since I started this diary of all things and I have enjoyed the quiet time between me and keyboard immensely.  This type of blog is a fairly shameless egotistical self promotion (although I don't expect anyone reads it) but it's oddly cathartic too.  There have been times in the last twelve months when I've been lost in my worrisome thoughts, not sure about the direction to take next and confused over the countless tasks and lists I feel like I'm managing.  And then there's the blog.  A chance to write down what I'm thinking, order it somehow, write to the imaginary audience to provide some clarity and reasoning behind all the confusion I seem to feel and to pin point those moments that I want never to forget, and some others too.  It feels good to tap away at the keyboard, constructing and deconstructing sentences, thinking about what I really think, and then choosing what I want to say and remember (and other times, blurting the obvious), choosing images, taking inspiration from other bloggers but ultimately hoping that the things I choose to write about will be interesting to me.  There are also moments and feelings I haven't but perhaps should have captured, ones that I wish I had written about, times when I was feeling so joyous or irrationally lost... It might not be original, but like any new book, band, painting, recipe, this is my take and a record of the things I want to keep with me for always.

Long may it continue.

encore!

This week, Ollie's aunty and cousin came to visit.  We don't have much space in our house and I always wonder how we are going to squeeze everyone in but it always ends up being alright and it's a bit of a novelty getting the inflatable mattress out.   Ollie's cousin Emmanuelle (the girl of many nicknames, of which Emma seems to be the most popular) is six weeks younger than Ollie and was born in Paris.  She is kind hearted, sweet natured, she has a penchant for snacking and a very cute little vocabulary of French and English words.  Ollie, who is still of few words but really developing his language quickly, really enjoyed having her around and this morning seems to be a bit bored, plodding about the house wondering where all the fun has disappeared to.  He's not much of a mimicker but at lunch yesterday, Ollie listened as Manu reached for more bread and said 'encore!', thought for a minute, then looked at me and said 'a-core!'.  His first French word!  Hard to resist.

And in other, unrelated but still relevant news, Will and I start our tenth year together today.  Nine years ago, on 22 September 2001, and after more than a sensible amount of dithering, we managed to spend an evening together doing what we did best back then - hanging out in a London bar.  I am pretty sure that was the night I fell in love and nine years later we are married with two beautiful boys.  I never thought I could be so lucky.  Each year brings with it new challenges but each year seems to better the last. I have a feeling that this next one is going to be something special.

how are you?

It's hard to not feel so sorry for yourself when you have a snotty head cold and very little time to properly rest.  And I don't mean putting your feet up at the end of the day, I mean proper rest, lying in a bed/on a couch drinking nothing but hot, medicinal beverages and staying warm under a comfy blanket.  Yes, I feel sorry for myself and simple things feel like a trial - cooking a meal for Ollie which he'll reject anyway, getting both boys into bed with minimum fuss, collecting groceries... oh the bother!

But yesterday, I spoke to a dear friend that I have neglected over the last few months and found out that his mother is awaiting diagnosis of what is thought to be terminal cancer of the bone marrow.  It brought an entirely new perspective on the answer to the question 'how are you?'.  My friend is, as I expected, the bastion of his family, dealing with a situation that most adults will never have to encounter with dignity, integrity and heart.  He is a young, intelligent, happy and honest individual who deals with life's situations with humour and energy.  But this is a little different.  The most he gave away about the gravity of his situation was that it was tiring.  Tiring!  If I am complaining this much about a head cold, I cannot imagine how I would begin to cope with seeing a loved one deteriorate before me.

Our friends are the people we choose to share our lives with.  Our family are those we are given.  I am lucky that my friends and family are beautiful, diverse, intelligent, good, kind people that shape who I am.   I may not always agree with them but in one way or another, they teach me how to be better at what I do and remind me that when I have a cold, I should stop complaining and get on with life.