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.
