Ricky's First Holiday {In Pictures}

On the 26th of February Rod and I had officially been together for ten years. To mark the occasion we thought we'd take a trip back to the Midlands where Rod had proposed five years earlier. We also thought it would be the perfect place for Ricky's first holiday, since we had yet to take a family trip after his birth nearly two years ago! The Midlands is a beautiful part of our diverse country, and definitely one of my favourite places to holiday, and the endless green proved popular with our little man who ran around like a crazy person, exploring every nook and cranny. We booked a cottage at Caversham Mill for three nights, and were told upon arrival that we had been moved to a bigger cottage. Our "backyard" led right down to the Lions River, with beautiful views stretching across miles of endless green. I didn't object. 

On the second day we ventured into Pietermaritzburg to visit my Grammy before heading into Durban for a couple hours. My aunt Anne lives in Durbs, so we met up with her for a coffee and a catch up on the promenade before letting Ricky barrel head first into the ocean. If there are two things that Ricky loves, it's sand and water, so he was in hog heaven! We didn't even have a chance to change him into his cozzie before he was waist deep in waves, so we just let him at it. I was quite impressed with his boldness; not once did he cry or run (except into the sea), and when a big wave took his feet out from under him, he just laughed and stood up for more. Needless to say, his battery was flattened by such a busy day and he slept like a log.

It's Been Way Too Long...

It's been a little while since I last posted here. It's not that I forgot about this little blog of mine, or that I've been lazy or busy, or whatever other excuse modern mothers use. I've simply not known what to write about.

I could have told you about Ricky weaning himself two weeks early. I could have told you all about his first birthday. I could have told you about his first steps, the fact that he's not only walking but running, or the way he climbs everything he lays his eyes on. But I just never found myself sitting down with my laptop to say any of these things. So allow me to catch you up on the goings on in Mommy's life.

The Most Boring Post Ever

Here's a photo that has absolutely nothing to do with this post at all.

Oh, it has really just been one of those weeks. Last week I found I just had nothing to share and so, instead of forcing the issue for the sake of posting, I chose rather to take the week off. Go me! But, despite the fact that I have as little to say this week as I did last, I felt I could not neglect my little blog yet again! And so here I am! Prepare to be dazzled by the most tedious of news items!

A few weeks back I broke my little toe on Ricky's pram. I don't think I've mentioned it, mostly because it's such a lame thing to break. My hardcore reputation would have been better upheld if I'd perhaps been driven through with a lance while fighting dragons but, alas, a broken digit is all I was afforded. After a few days of limping around and a further few of tentative walking, it was sufficiently healed for a more normal mode of locomotion and slightly sexier shoes. And the heavens rejoiced. Something as small and insignificant as a broken toe is somewhat amplified when one's day consists of carting a 9kg baby up and down stairs, I was surprised to discover. I've had more fun.

The Importance of Getting Dirty

A healthy diet of leaves and dirt

For those of you who haven't been paying close attention, let me state for the record that I am a decidedly old-fashioned kind of mom. I believe in the old style of parenting. No prenatal classes or any of that jazzy crap for us. No Baby Gym to help us celebrate our child's mediocre (and inevitable) achievements as though they've just won the Nobel Prize in Physics. No hand sanitiser in the nursery, no wildly expensive organic baby food for our little man, no sterilising every little thing he may happen to lay his hands on. I am often agitated when visitors keep telling me what Ricky is doing or where he is going, as though I am not watching. "He's going toward the coffee table!" Yeah, and? "What if he bumps his head?" Then he bumps his head and he feels a little pain, or not, and learns to be more careful. Life happens. Sure, I don't intend leaving power tools or a barrel of scorpions or a set of newly sharpened Shogun knives lying around where Ricky can get to them, but I refuse to envelop my home in bubble wrap for fear that my child may actually experience a little of what we call living. If a parent chooses to wrap their own child in cotton wool and hide them away from the world for fear it may actually impact them in some way, that is their prerogative; but I am the parent who can't remember the last time I sterilised a bottle or sippy cup, and I let my son roll around on the floor with the cat. He enjoys the freedom, and that makes me happy. Don't mistake my relaxed attitude for neglect, though. I have taken every precaution to latch cupboards that may house anything detrimental to the well-being of my little explorer, and I keep an ever-watchful eye on the goings-on in my home. I just believe in getting dirty.

Om nom nom nom, CHICKEN!

Can you believe we're already nearing the end of October!? It seems every time I look up I have to change the page on our kitchen calendar! Tomorrow our little man is 7 months old - how time flies! He's mastered the art of sitting unsupported, making me one very happy and proud mommy!

Look at that handsome man!

Ricky's still experiencing severe separation anxiety - he is now permanently glued to my side throughout the day to assuage his fears. I don't mind in the least, I love spending time with my little man, but it does break my heart when he cries for me if I leave the room. Earlier today I took advantage of his cheerful mood and left him playing on his mat to grab a quick bite to eat. I couldn't have been in the kitchen for more than a minute when he started crying. That crying turned to wailing which turned to shrieking, all in a period of about 30 seconds, and I grabbed everything I needed to finish off in the lounge. That's when I realised that Ricky's cries sounded closer than the lounge. A LOT closer. I stuck my head out of the kitchen to see that he had leopard crawled his way out of the lounge and most of the way to the kitchen in search of me. My heart shattered. His face was streaked with tears and the look of utter despair I found there made me want to cry. I could do nothing but sweep him up in my arms and just hold him.

Spuh-RING!

And yet again I am late with my post!  Alas, this time it was no fault of mine! For some reason unknown to men and gods alike, Blogger decided that Wednesday was not a good day for me to access my account and temporarily limited me to simply viewing a blank screen with a poorly worded error message.  All seems to be back in working order now though, so I guess the little feedback button in the lower right corner of my screen is good for something after all...  And then yesterday was WEDDING TIME, rendering me incapable and entirely unwilling to sit at my laptop and compose what you now read.  Rod's cuzzie Vida married her long-time beau Nic in a pretty outdoor ceremony at The Moon and Sixpence in Muldersdrift.  If you're keen to see a few snaps of the proceedings taken by yours truly, I've posted a few on my other blog {Jade & Jasmine}, so head on over and have a squiz, and perhaps click on the "Follow" button while you're there ;)

And, of course, the fact that wedding season is upon us here in South Africa means only one thing - spring is here!!  If there's one time of year that I love, it's spring. With my bloodlines hailing from Scotland, Ireland, England, Germany and Sweden, I feel I am fully qualified to state that I am too European for our sunny South African climate!  But spring is just perfect.  The gentle warmth of the evenings, the scent of the jasmine blooming beside our front door, everything fresh and green and GLORIOUS!  And the colours! I am in awe of nature's ability to surprise me anew each year with its simple beauty. There is a sense of promise in the air that nothing can imitate.

Some of the flowers blooming in our garden