Slugs on the Refrigerator

What Love Is

Nine years ago yesterday, I landed in Gatwick airport to spend two weeks with a young man I hadn't seen in over 2 years.

It was a sort of test to see if whatever kept us coming back to each other was real or just some idealised idea of a relationship.

At the end of the two weeks, running through the airport because we were an hour late because we'd been too, um, busy to notice that the clocks had gone forward and I was going to miss my plane, I knew that idealised or no, I was coming back to stay.

And so I did.

In honour of that day, here are 10 things I love about my man, right now.

:: He comes to playgroup and plays with all of the toddlers, resolving arguments, setting up tricycle obstacle courses, building elaborate train tracks and making mothers cups of tea while we all hide around the corner ignoring the children.

:: He goes in late to work to fetch me medicine when I am 39 weeks pregnant and have the flu.

:: He still asks if I need help when I have my head down the toilet for the 649th time this pregnancy

:: He helps me put socks on. An act which is doubly chivalrous because a) they are feet (yuck!) and b) they currently look like they should be the model for the marshmallow man in the next Ghostbuster's movie.

::He searches tirelessly on ebay for trains for Ellis' birthday, even though we are sick to death of trains, because he knows wee man will love them.

::He plays and plays with one energetic small boy who demands attention from the moment he wakes up to the moment he collapses at night.

:: He listens and empathises and tries hard to understand the ups, downs and obsessions of his rather crazy pregnant wife.

:: He is passionate and deeply committed to his work in supporting people's access to the arts. He never misses an opportunity to reinforce the need for equality and accessibility for everyone.

:: He makes a fantastic roast dinner and does the dishes every night, even if he cooked.

:: He waits patiently for his much promised hat to replace the one I made for my mother and forced him to model in the top picture. Even though many, many projects have come on and off the needles since then...

Simply put, he is wonderful and I am eternally grateful we decided to give us one last chance nine years ago. 

Happy Ides of March, Honey!

Happiness Is...

Trying out new chocolate chip cookie recipes, raved about by all and sundry.

Review: Good? Yes. Great? Maybe.  Best? I am not certain and it will definitely require further testing. A batch will be going in at about 2 this afternoon if anyone would like to volunteer to be part of the taste testing panel.

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Knitting in the sunshine.

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Distant mountains in the sunshine.

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Playing in the sunshine.

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Exhausted by all that sunshine.

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Did I mention sunshine?

Hanging in There

Photo by Kevin

The Danger of Predictability

I didn't blog Friday or yesterday.

Normally, this occurrence is met with a harassing text from a certain friend (you know who you are, woman!).

Yesterday, my lack of blogging was met with no less than 3 emails, 4 texts to my phone, a blog comment, and various phone calls and texts to Kevin.  

Yes, I am still pregnant.  If the baby had arrived, the world would know. When I had Ellis, Kevin had pictures on the internet within hours.  This was before blogging, facebook and Skype.

Being stalked is an interesting, if marginally irritating, phenomenon I missed out on the first time with Ellis' 35 week arrival.  I can not open the door without someone telling me they are surprised I am still pregnant, how enormous I am, or providing me with a prediction as to when baby will arrive. Which is normal, i know, but does everyone get it from 37 weeks?  I thought this was a post-due date phenomenon.

Anyway, I haven't blogged because, I have nothing interesting to say (if you've read this far, you will know that already).  You see, I have reached the "too big to move or do anything or leave the house" stage. And its rubbing off on Ellis as all he wants to do is play with his trains, paint, and chase his cats.

While he has been doing that, I:

:: I have watched more late night TV than I have ever watched in my entire life. For the record, Men in Black is better remembered than watched.

::I have been knitting...another Milo.  I can now make the first 2 sizes without a pattern.  I have given a fair few away and wanted another for our new baby. A snowy owl, as opposed to the brown owl we have already.  I am making it in Sublime Organic Merino...it smells of sheep, which makes  me endlessly happy.

::I have ordered this book, after seeing this.  i had an amazon voucher that had been sitting around for months.  The best thing about Ravelry has been the ability to see what patterns are in books that I couldn't normally get my hands on.  As there are at least 6 patterns that I want to make RIGHT NOW.  But I am trying not to build up too much of  a stash of yarn, because well, I am running out of space and it would be nice to know the gender of teh baby before I make anything else. Though, I want to make something red. In bamboo. With matching booties.

:: Nesting is getting a bit ridiculous.  I cleaned the bathtub at 3am. 

::

A Noise with Dirt

Boy, n.: a noise with dirt on it.

~Not Your Average Dictionary 

When did my baby become a boy?  Someone, tell me, because I seem to have blinked and missed it. 

Note to Self

Dear Me,

Please remember, at the moments:

when you actually think that you may completely lose your mind and drop your (almost) 3 year old off at a rehoming centre,

when he stands on the bridge for 45 minutes refusing to either go forward or back,

when he fights every time he needs a change of clothes or nappy, 

when he wants to listen to the same Thomas the Tank Engine audio book over and over all day long and calls Nina Simone, "rubbish",

when he, in the 5 minutes it takes for you to go upstairs and deposit a laundry basket on the bed, climbs up onto the kitchen counter, turns on the taps, overflows the sink, empties a full litre of milk onto the counter and is trying to climb out the window onto the rubbish bins,

that you love him.

That he makes you laugh.

That you miss him when he is not with you.

That he makes everything adventurous.

That he is very sweet and cuddly and will not always be so.

That his desire to help, really does outweigh his capability to create chaos.

That he is ridiculously cute.

and then put on Thomas (again), make yourself a cup of tea and remind yourself that the rehoming centre actually has been redeveloped into new houses.  So, for better or worse, the two of you are in this together.   

Love,

Your Self

Things That Happen Before 8am

Complex scenes are built and destroyed.

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Art happens...whether we want it to or not.

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Savage beasts are caged...at least temporarily.

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A few quiet rows are knit.

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Whilst taking out the recycling, my neighbour tells me, "I didn't realise you were pregnant.  You look much better than you normally do.  You'll have to get pregnant again right away." I respond, "Um, thanks?"

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Cups of coffee are welcomed with semi-open and sleep-encrusted eyes.

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And so, the day begins.

Wordless Week: Perfection

Wordless Week: Made

Wordless Week: Simple Adventure

Inspired by Hannah