Friday, 7 March 2014

Six years



January the 2nd marked the time where I have been a mummy for 6 years.

SIX whole years.


Two months in and I still can't believe that I have a six year old son.  

A little man who knows his likes, dislikes and has opinions….proper opinions that he's thought about himself, not just believed whole heartedly because mummy and daddy tell him something is a certain way.

He questions things he doesn't understand and will not stop until he has an answer that he is happy with.

He inhales knowledge.  Be it dinosaurs, trains or science, he has a need to learn.  He reads book after book (with a little help) and revels in his new found knowledge.  That boy knows how a steam train works, pistons to firebox and has learned how a combustion engine works with the help of models, Tom and Grandpa.  Most Mondays, after school, he goes to one of the Cambridge science museums with Grandpa (on a boys adventure) and knows some of the exhibits off by heart.

He has a fantastic sense of humour…although I could do without so many "poo and fart" jokes…

He's incredibly protective of his family, especially his little brother(s) and the dogs.


He gets incredibly upset if he things that someone has been wronged and vehemently believes that everything needs to be fair.


He is a whizz with Lego construction and I can sit and watch him put together models meant for boys twice his age.  With this I get explanations of why that piece goes there.


His imagination does run away with him.  He can't always get all his thoughts out fast enough and it frustrates him terribly.  If you sit him down with a set of pens and paper then he'll sit for hours and draw, and draw.  Each pen stroke has a meaning and I am in awe at the complexity of his little mind. (At school they had a project to make a dragon and write a story about it.  He called his dragon "Fish" and it breathed ice instead of fire…so the knights just got frozen and didn't die.)


The boy loves to bake.  He can whip up a sponge by himself, tongue stuck out to the side in concentration.  Actually…he just loves cake in general.  He asked for a carrot cake for his birthday cake. (I was very proud as it's also my favourite.)


He is polite and kind.  I couldn't ask for a better mannered boy.  I've always said that apologising when you know you're in the wrong is the hardest thing for anyone to do…let alone a child.  That he can apologise without a second thought explains Oli to a tee.

He's a little man who will tell me that he loves me ten times in as many minutes, just to make sure that I know he does.


I couldn't be prouder of my Little Man.  ….but I still can't believe that the tiny little baby I held in my arms on the 2nd January 2008 is now six years old.
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Wednesday, 5 March 2014

Finding the positivities


It's no secret that I've been a complete and utter recluse recently.  My motivation for almost everything has been near to zero.  I've been feeling rather blue, with no energy and everyday life has become a bit of a struggle to get through without wanting to give up.

My lovely little parasite has been sucking the life out of me.  Third time is certainly NOT a charm when it comes to pregnancy.  No matter how much love I already have for my little man, it doesn't change how incredibly hard it has been on both my body and mind this time around.


...BUT…the sun is shining and through all my aches, pains and sickness (yes, there is still much sickness) I'm feeling more positive than I have been in months.  I'm snapping far less (my poor husband and kids haven't had happy go lucky mummy in a while) and I'm finding the spring in my step as the blossom starts to come out.  ….not a literal spring though, after royally buggering up my pelvis a few weeks ago.  As the sun shines on and the sky is blue I find myself smiling far more, and my motivation is coming back.

Now I'm feeling more like "me" it makes me realise how unlike myself I've been.

This afternoon, after putting the Tiny man up for his nap I made a cup of tea and took my poor forgotten blanket outside and crocheted a few rows in the sun, whilst throwing a ball for Lucy pup (who is no longer such a puppy).





Such an insignificant little thing, but it certainly made me feel far more like the regular me.

I certainly have my "positive" hat on today…and it's relieving to feel (and with only 12 weeks left until we are due to welcome this little man into our lives, it's a feeling I needed to feel, because after all, we're incredibly lucky to have our (soon to be) 3 little boys.)


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