A Lost Friend Made & Boy Scouts...

Well, oh well.

Life warrants a blog post now, because it has been so unusual and interesting...not that it's ever not, really, but it's been especially interesting lately. There have been bad and good bits, always.

Osrid Olov is really blooming in some special ways, though.

To start, we've been getting comfortable with him riding in the Ergo (carrier)-this is very big deal for us because we have had a very hard time trying to use wraps/carriers and ultimately I've been carrying on hip/in arms and trying to juggle and it's been really hard and painful, actually. The carrier was lent by a really wonderful friend and fellow HE'er who wanted to help and I cannot even tell her how grateful we are!! <3 it feels so good to be snuggly with my son and also NOT dying while I walk up the hills, because he is not exactly a baby anymore. Bless. But he still likes to walk a lot too, and that's OK! I've even made dinner a couple of times with him all wrapped up and snuggled into me. Sooo sweet. Love love love love love.

We've reached the "why?" phase-it's a new word fr him, since his speech regression-so I hear "why?" to so many things I say. I love it, actually!! I really do, because I feel very intent on figuring out the "why" to everything myself, and it is so wonderful and cool for that one word, because he is able to clue me in on what he is curious about. How awesome is that for me to discover?

We had a hard day a few days ago, because there was a really mean old guy who was following me around just to criticise my parenting and I let it get the better of me-I am so sensitive and I get so hurt. More than anything I find it really hard to try to explain to my son why people make the comments that they do to us. I hear things like "why are you letting that child run amock, he should be put on a leash!" and "how can you just let him walk beside you when you're on the sidewalk without carrying him" and "don't let him touch anything, he'll break things!" It SUCKS because no matter how lovingly I try to treat him, he is still going to be shot at all the time by people who tell him he can't be trusted just because he's young. and I think sometimes he holds back from doing things that he wants to because he is so sensitive and he takes all of that in. I build him up, all the time, in every way that I can; because to me that's just what comes natural: the world is a really rough place and everyone needs someone who loves them exactly as they are. I also really see the effects of that too, because he is so compassionate and gentle to other people. Today we had so much fun and even though he was really happy and running around doing things he kept coming back to me every couple of minutes to give me a hug and a kiss. I am so blessed, really. I shouldn't worry-but I do-part of being a mom I guess!

Oh, some very strange thing happened a couple of days ago, a stray dog started following O.O. and I while we were out walking. We walked for a long time and tried to tell her t go home because I thought she was a neighbourhood dog but she kept following us and eventually I realised she was lost; so I started petting her and she-I think a she, but I cannot tell yet because s/he was dreadlocked and matted all over so badly and muddy :( poor doggy! Well she was shaking and looked weak, not thin or starving but like she hadn't eaten for a couple of days maybe. She had a very old grungey collar but no tag at all. So I brought her home and we gave her some water and meat and lent her one of our blankets and the shed-because we obvs neede to make sure she wasn't carrying disease if to bring her inside, since O.O. and all..well anyway Paul put up signs and nobody called or came to get her, we could not get ahold of RSPCA or dog warden, and we ended up bringing the bloody dog inside because she was fucking cute and pulling at our heart strings. We just blocked off the corridor so that she could chillax in there without O.O. touching her matted fur, since it was really yucky and we don't have any big scissors or shears. She seemed wounded on her belly too. Well the dog warden came yesterday and took her , because they want to clean her up and make sure she is OK and also make sure that her owner doesn't come for her. If the owner does not claim her in 7 days then they *would* be releasing her shortly thereafter to the pound-and from there, I honestly don't know uif she would be adopted because she is old. :( So the dog warden said the alternative is that we can have her back, and so that's what is going to happen if her owner does not come. After all if it were a homeless person that we found and their relatives didn't pick them up from the hospital after a week they would go to prison and maybe get executed, we would obviously save them---it is no different for an animal, because they are people too, darn it.. It is a real pain because our house is WAY too small for a dog and we can't afford it and this and that, but, like I said...there's just no question...and besides, we have all kinda fallen for the old lug. S/he is so sweet and fuzzy. And stinky. but sweet.

So yesterday O.O. had the most wonderful day; for some reason when we went downtown the stores were closed ?? and I had woken up with Paul's cold-the first I've gotten in who-knows-when-but I wanted to give O some fun so I took him to the park for a few. We're only gonna stay a few minutes, coz I'm tired...but then all these boy scouts rushed in! And I thought we were gonna be overwhelmed and unhappy, and it was a little scary when they first showed up but then a very nice boy made us his friends right away-he must have been around 7-8? -he was so cute, with a freckly face and big glasses and he had so may things to say about so many things and he just love O.O., it made me so happy. Then there were boys playing football and Osrid Olov was following them about, interested in the ball. Then one of the older boys noticed this and passed the ball to him so that he could play too!! How cool is that!! I joined in as well and we ran around being all fun and silly. He had SO much fun and I could tell he felt really special. I just love that so much. At one point he got a bit overexcited by a couple of the boys playing on this swingaround see-saw thing? Hard to explain-and he ran right over, fr some reason, wh knows why, ran right into the middle of the boy spinning around and fell. He had a big owwy, bless him, and the 2 boys stopped and were soo sorry and rushed over to see if he was OK. Bless. The nice freckly big eyed boy was still with us and he said "I think it was an accident" and I said "it was nobodys' fault, I think my little one just got a bit too excited by all the fun" and he said "Ohh. I know what that is like fella, it used to happen to me when I was a kid to." :))) I wish that kid's mum had been there so that I could have gotten them together again or something...is that weird? I don't know. They were just sooo sweet having fun together!!
When the scouts left O.O. tried to follow them-the scout "base" is very close to the playground and he tried to follow them. I knelt down to stop him and say we can't go there, only members can..and I told him that if he wanted to join them when he is old enough that we will do whatever he needs to make that happen. He just hugged me and cried softly for a few minutes, bless his sweet little heart, and then took my hand to pull me towards home.

So now I feel like someone lodged a golfball in my nose and stacked a load of bricks on top of me, and I think O.O. isn't feelin' too hot either, we're just kinda doing the whole lazy thang because I totally wore out whatever energy I didn't even have in me to have fun-but I really have not had so much fun in a long time. I was able to just think about O.O. and what we were doing and it was so cool. I love having a kid so much because I get to do all the fun stuff that kids do without people thinking I'm some sort of weirdo. Or maybe I am actually lulling myself into a false sense of security, and people really d think I am a complete weirdo. Actually I'm pretty certain that is the case, because I'm the only adult that I ever see monkeying around through the ropes and tubes, and people don't really pay me much mind except to say very strange things to me...but whatever. I have a best friend who is small and funny and hugs me and kisses my face and naps with me and is just really the person who I care about making happy the most, because I know how very lucky it is to love such a person.

Ergh. Spring..

Two and a half...
2 1/2...
2.5...
Two.
and.
a.
half...
PLUS
a month...

ALREADY!

Last night-as I often do-I lay awake, adorning my fondest friend, most precious creation, handsomest aquaintance, the strongest predilection I have ever known with a loving gaze, it struck me that my son is only five months away from being three years old. It feels like it is going so quickly and it kind of scares me, because I am desperate to pause it all. I don't want much of anything in the world to move. Time, an imaginary manmade concept to which I am blind, petrifies me. It is not that I do not believe I will enjoy my son as an adult, because I know without any shadow of a doubt that I will. It is simply that I love him so much as he is right now. I love to nurse him. I love that his little body somehow keeps me warm at night while we sleep. I love the single lengthy, tightly wound curl that grows at the back of his wispy strawberry hairs. I love that we fit into the bathtub together and I love putting the socks on his feet. I love the little dimple-dent creases that are always on his legs, even with how slender he is. I love how excited it makes him to have his favouritest-ever shirt clean & dry. I love scooping him up to bring him up the stairs at night and I just love being needed and wanted so much and I love him so much just the way that he is. I wonder sometimes if I am the only silly person whose heart breaks as often as it does shine, because of how severely they love.

Osrid Olov has met his grandfather-my father-for the very first time! Of course, right before my Dad got here, irony of ironies...he began to really start to cut his..-dun-dun-dun, MOLARS. Yowch. It was a bittersweet time in that sense, because O.O. was having a really hard time and staying up so late that I got only but few hours with Dad in the days he was here. We went for some long drives, and had some much needed, soul-feeding talks though and on Paul's birthday we went to Looe for the first time since we moved. We took a long walk around and then got Sam & James to come over with their beautiful little girl to Paul's folks house too to celebrate and O.O. and her got along really well which was incredibly cool, especially because he doesn't really interact with other kids at all. Both of them got very upset when all of the cake was eaten, though. Understandably...I do make a pretty good cake ;) It was very hard to see my Dad go, as I had not seen him in 4 years, but that evening he just started having such a hard time anyway and it showed me how much he needed my full attention.
                              

O.O. has regressed in his speech development. Paul believes it might be related to dentition(molars). I am not entirely sure, but it is sad to me that he struggles so much with verbal communication-he is back to only saying a few words now. He is getting better and better with nonverbal communication though; and is starting to draw recognisable pictures. I can see faces in his drawings, even, which is incredible to me. I asked whose face one was and he said it was Daddy, which was so very sweet! He is also making a lot of different humming noises and gestures to indicate different things when he needs them. It is a language all in its own and the more I memorise, the easier things do get...

Though, some things have been very very hard recently. The teething pain is driving him very crazy, I think-he doesn't quite seem himself the last couple of days. Recently, he developed a new allergy, on a more serious note-it came on so unbelievably quick. It happened as out-of-the-blue as him, and then eventually me, becoming allergic to capsaicin/chillies. He reacted twice in a row, very very severely, to things with cocoa in them. Not chocolate. Please, anything but that! Sigh. Oddly, I reacted too, but in a much smaller way (my atopic exema flaring, tiredness)-his was shortness of breath, a humongous bright red rash through the entire body with bumps and crying, shivering/fever. Both times. It is so sad that this is happening, especially since I have been working so hard to heal our guts and avoid environmental toxins, ect etera. It makes me scared of what other things could develop. I hate living life without being able to eat at restaurants or grab things at stores I'm unfamiliar with, ect. But this is what it costs to be well. There is no other choice.

It is finally spring weather here in Padstow. Which is disgusting and I wish it would go back to being winter. I do not like the sun, or outdoor warmth, or any such hoopajoo. That is all.