Reasons to be cheerful, 123

They don’t happen very often, do they? Those moments where you think Ooh, everything is…ok?

But right now, I am having one and, in the interests of keeping myself sane when everything falls over again, I feel the need to mark it, to note it, to say here, here all was well.

There is a feeling of blossoming at our home. It may well have something to do with the sunshine, which just makes the world feel better doesn’t it? But there’s more to it than that I think. Small is making strides in his development (and when I say strides, you understand that I mean glacial, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them if these were out in the normal world, strides?). He is making beautiful babbly sounds. Anything that delights him is a d-d-d-d-d-doi-doi-doi-doi. Equally, he will show off his true consonant talents to the nearest packet of wipes – they are a rapt audience. As are we. I cannot hear enough of it.

He is weight bearing. Just for a few seconds, hanging on to the laundry basket, or his Daddy bouncing him across the kitchen floor, but he is doing it. When we encourage him to take a step, he’s not resistant, so we encourage and encourage and encourage in the hope that this goes in. He has stopped indiscriminately lurching when we carry him. Or when he does, he thinks it’s funny, whereas previously he was purely looking for his safe space. He can See More. No doubt. He is becoming more aware of noises, where they come from and What Are They? He can drink from his sippy cup without the lid. It’s the messiest thing you ever saw as he will drink it, then flap in delight and throw the water Everywhere. But it is a beginning. This achievement is pure nursery, not us. I Love Nursery and their overwhelming positive belief in Small.

Our extension is finally begun. Where right now we only have one room on the ground floor that is liveable in, by the autumn we will have a clear run through for kitchen, dining room, wet room. Wet room. Because Small’s room is going downstairs. Slight cloud here as the lounge we had pictured in our forever house is going to have to be somehow crowbarred upstairs… but this is small potatoes to the ease with which having Small on one level will bring. My back, ankles and knees will live to see another day.

And respite, what about respite? Good God, the difference it has made in such a short space of time. Because there is a block of time, every fortnight, when my beautiful boy goes off to Someone Else, life has changed immeasurably. I can plan fun stuff to do with Big (where *has* Big been in this post? Busily make-and do-ing, that’s what. Using my selloptape too). We have been to the beach, flown kites, had picnics, watched movies, eaten far too much popcorn and had breakfast in a slow, quiet way. I have been shopping with my Mum. OH has gone cycling guilt-free. For once.

I can see scary stuff on the horizon. SS wants to formalise our respite package. We don’t. My OT is bringing in a more industrial bed (a high/ low back-saving solution. ‘Honestly, when you put the cover on and loads of toys, you’ll never know it’s a hospital bed’. Really??) and a contraption to get Small into the Bath. We have to go and look at schools. But right now, this moment, it’s a good one.