A Richness of Roses

We have a richness of roses at the moment and are glorying in their abundance. Everyday a plentitude of new buds slowly unfurl and we stop to admire and ooh and aah and take deep gulps of scent. Over the days we watch with awe as the buds open from discrete and delicate folds to beautiful, blowsy brilliance. We live in a town known for it's roses (as well as it's power stations...) and walks are a delight as we admire and exclaim on all our neighbour's gardens. 
No matter how the day is going the sight of the roses and the heady smell never fails to lift me up. We are discovering lots of hidden roses in our garden that the past owners left (generally tangled up with ivy) and I am having the first flowering of all the bushes I hopefully planted in the Autumn. 
Today I'm linking up with the lovely Maxabella and being grateful for roses!

Birthday Buzz

My Sprocket turns three very soon and for the first time he 'gets' birthdays. 

As in - he gets that in a very short amount of time he will get cakes and presents and people will sing songs for him. He doesn't quite  get that the whole shin-dig is to celebrate him being born three years ago,(we're still working on our Christmas explanatiosn as well...) but he understands that Good-Things-Will-Come to him and this will be his special day. 

For some time now we have been discussing his birthday and he has been singing "Happy-to-you-to-Ghee" whenever there has been another persons birthday and we have had to say 'not yet there's still a few months/weeks to go'. 

But now we are into days. 

And we are onto cake negotiations. 

We began with requests for a dinosaur and progressed to a 'Buzz Ship'. 

There was an attempt to negotiate to a grasshopper that was quickly squashed (have you seen the angles on those legs!)Every night now he asks about his 'Buzz Ship'. 

As in Buzz Lightyear of Toy Story fame's rocket. And I am pleased to tell him that his Great Aunty Cathy - who made all of his mummy's bestest cakes (the one with the doll, the one with the pool of jelly) is onto it.

It makes a difference when kids know what's going to happen. When there is anticipation. 

Expectation. 

Building excitement. 

Of course... where there are expectations there can also be disappointments. (Cue lip gnawing...) But... it's so exciting! My baby boy turns three soon! 

(Bring on the rockets!)

So much closer to 'Mrs Dr Dear'...

The day of the last exam. 
The one where my beloved the First Year Med Student has to check out eight fake patients and be scored accordingly. In preparation for this exam I have had my gastrointestinal, renal, cardiac, thyroid and a gazillion other systems checked out... oh a few hundred times. As we take our evening walk my various medical histories are taken. Depending on my fancy I am a 55 year old women with an alcohol problem or a 22 year old guy with probable giardia. Occasionally I aim for something like TB to be informed it was more like cancer. I think he's getting pretty good at it. 
And, I am pleased to inform you I am working perfectly!
Hopefully, after today we can take time off the hard slog of being students and get some important stuff done - painting and mending, de-spiderwebbing and clearing out of sheds(otherwise known as portals of doom), scouring of cupboards, toy culling, curtain hanging and drawer sorting, gutter emptying and garden-bed making. 
You know, fun bonding stuff. 
My beloved is soooo excited by the though of all of this - and the day by day lists I have been making for the last two months of all the stuff I would really appreciate (note: that means demand) being done before next years studies begin. 
I am truly excited. Yay! Let the holidays begin!

'I Love You'

The Sprocket hurled his green lollipops (aka frozen peas and my main triumph in the Sprocket-eating-vegetables-war) across the kitchen floor last night at dinner.  
They fountained. They rolled. They reached all crevasses.
My Beloved looked at the peas wearily. 
This was not the first food-stuff to be spread across the floor in recent memory. 
'I love you, Sprocket,' my Beloved said. (ie. I think I can restrain from strangling you tonight.) 
'I love you, Daddy,' the Sprocket said. 
And there it was. 
Our first 'I love you' from our offspring. 
'What was that, darling?' I asked, stunned. 
'I love you, Daddy' the Sprocket repeated obediently.
'O darling how wonderful! That makes Mummy and Daddy so happy!'  I enthused, the peas forgotten on the floor. 
The Sprocket glowed modestly. 
'Did you hear that,' I turned to my Beloved. I suspect we were both a little teary. 
'I did, our little boy is growing up.'
Sigh. 
'Sprocket, can you say "I love you, mummy"' my Beloved prompted. 
'I love you, mummy' the Sprocket said. 
'Aw, darling.' 

So today, I'm linking with the lovely Maxabellaloves Grateful Saturday to be grateful for firsts and for 'I love you's and most especially for my little boy's first 'I love you'

Fairy Beach Bugs

Ghee's Own Bed

Yesterday I awoke with sharp shark fins pressed against my ribs (of the hard, plastic variety) and it inspired me. 
It's time the Sprocket slept in his own bed. 
I have loved my time with my Sprocket beside me, being able to reach over in the night and check his breathing, being able to study his face when I wake, seeing his first grin when he sees us in the morning. 
But... I do believe it's time. Gulp. 
My beloved and I have been discussing this for awhile. I have been of the opinion that when plastic figurines come to bed with a kid then it is time for said kid to leave the parental bed and have a bed of their own to contain aforementioned hard and uncomfortable figurines. 
The Sprocket also likes to sleep on top of the blankets while I like to sleep under the blankets, which leads to blanket draft. 
That the Sprocket likes to sleep horizontally with his feet under one parents chin and his head against another is a further factor. That I would quite like to sleep curled up beside my beloved, gently numbing up his arm as it lies beneath me, as a good wife should, is another number in the equation.  
"Hon, when he wants plastic grasshoppers in bed with him he's not a baby he's a big boy and he needs his own bed." 
"But my little boy," my Beloved says in anguish. 
"Wouldn't you like to sleep next to your ever-loving wife for a change?" 
Hint. 
There is a correct answer here. 
"But someone might come in the night and steal him!" my Beloved cries.
"Hon, he'll be a foot away!" 
(Did I mention we both found Toy Story 3, when the little boy leaves home to go to college tear-inducingly heart-breaking?) 
I was not talking a major move here. 
My plans for the Sprocket's new bed were that it went in our room, next to our bed. 
The room we call the Sprocket's is down a hallway and has windows that he can easily wind open and climb out. (And is also full of washing. Ahem). Obviously it is far to far away for any of us to be comfortable with. I still want to be able to hear him breathe. 
So yesterday the Poppet and I went shopping. 
And returned with a bed. Just like the bed I used to have when I was a little girl. Small, wooden, with railings. It's makes me step back 30 years just looking at it. Sigh again. 
And the Poppet and I put it and all 16 of it's weird bolts together. (The Poppet, obviously, was a big help) 
And last night the Sprocket slept the night in his own bed. 
The photos are of the Poppet trying it out. She is quite taken with it. 
Please note the shark I found poking my ribs yesterday morning. Big ouch. 
And the grasshopper that is essential for sleeping. 
When the Sprocket wakes his shark and his grasshopper are the first things he asks for. 
Tonight, well tonight was a different story, but tomorrow is another day.