First Frost

The first frost is a big deal to me. It’s another seasonal milestone, akin to that late summer morning where you take a breath of fresh air and can detect autumn in it. I suppose this is the same but for winter.

It wasn’t until I picked Sandy out of his cot and put up the blinds that I realised, the cars glittering with it. Every morning Sandy likes to point to the cars in the drive and on the street upon waking, you see.

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We made a point of getting him dressed and went out to help Daddy scrape his car to go to work, for the first time since early in the year.

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It’s not quite as momentous as the first snow of the season but it’s pretty magical in itself.

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As Sandy toddled about the drive and I shamelessly paraded in front of the neighbours in pyjamas (warm, all covering ones big preggos wear I should add) and my raindbow bodywarmer, I lamented that he was going out with his Grumpa and not available to come on a frosty early morning walk with me.

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But luckily another frosty morning followed and we went out with the buggy for the first time in goodness knows how long and took a trip up our country road.

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Ever since I’ve had Sandy I’ve found something so comforting about wrapping him up warm and braving cold days. It reminds me of putting him in a million layers in the sling and carting him to the south side of Glasgow for baby yoga, back in the days when he was still immobile enough to take part.

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This morning he wore long johns and snowboots and a hat, and a jacket with a body warmer which pops into the inside of it. Ahh, I LOVE winter clothing!

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With this change it’s like the world has accepted that halloween has passed and is slowly allowing the winter and inevitable festivities to enter.

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As a side note, these Stonz snow boots are THE BOMB.

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Argh! Have you ever seen that much cute in one outfit?! All he needs is a little scarf!

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It’s like finding Christmas cards pinned up in the hedges out there.

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And the run of beautiful skies didn’t evade us on our walk either.

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So happy to be living in the country right now, and extra happy to be making a little progress from the dire side of pregnancy. It’s been very slow and tiring, much like my mood, but we keep trudging on. Hoping there is much more festivity to come this month, but no snow til December, please. Nothing worse than peaking too soon.

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Fireworks

Sometimes there is no need for the wonders of fireworks when the world gives you this kind of thing first thing in the morning.

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I love those moments where you see something beautiful in the sky and you know you have to get the camera RIGHT NOW or within a matter of moments it will be gone. So my dear husband learns when I open the blinds at seven am on our only Sandy-free morning of the week. Or in times past where I force him to jog up a city hill to see the sky on that crazy night Venus made everything red a few years back, inducing an asthma attack. Sorry dear, but surely the results are worth it:

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There’s enough Oohing and Aahhing over these beauties to avoid the necessity of fireworks in life. Mind you, it doesn’t stop us from having them anyway on my birthday.

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We had the joint celebration for myself and my aunt at ours. For some reason Sandy finds big parties a little too much and likes to retreat to somewhere on his own, or with Grumpa. Seems to be the only time he is happy to play quietly by himself.

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Giant Jazzie Cake. YUM.

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I don’t know how much cake went in but I know exactly how many outfit changes followed.

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And so the brief window arrived where it was dark but before Sandy’s bedtime routine and the men went to work. Men and BBQs, men and fireworks… I’m not really complaining.

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Well, I wasn’t until the infamous sellotape made and appearance and they decided to get “creative”.

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Cue multicoloured smoke filled, on the ground explosions taking place in the field two feet from the fence of our back garden.

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Oh, and the Catherine Wheel which didn’t. Except burning a big black hole in the fence.

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I’m more of a fountain girl myself.

The poor Sandman was not in the least impressed with the fireworks, despite us being upstairs and inside, and starting off tame. He cried and wriggled and ended up downstairs on Granny’s lap watching some TV.

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Recently he’s been developing these big, proper cuddles where he grabs round your neck and squeezes in tight. I can’t get enough.

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And neither can Daddy:

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In other news the cats have finally been set free. Only a handful of times and for short periods.

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Claude is too scared to go out. We need a cat flap so they can get in and out as required. And also some way of stopping muddy paw prints on the carpet. Any ideas?

Spooky Sandy

Halloween is over and Sandy took part in his first trip round the houses guising.

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He spent his day in this fabby pumpkin babygrow that Granny bought him and visited his Gran and his Granny’s work, being told he was the cutest pumpkin ever (true).

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Then we made a quick trip to the shops for some groceries and he was awwed all over by school aged girls going “look at the baby pumpkin!”. I love having him dressed in one piece as that, and his lack of hair, make him still seem like a baby not a big toddler.

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So then Sandy reluctantly went out in his bear costume (having had a major tantrum for having something taken off him minutes earlier, hence the rather subdued facial expressions here!).

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But he was a very good boy who let us keep his bear hood up and was very polite at all the four houses we visited.

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Out at five and sad – it really is the witching hour (mwa ha ha ha ha!)

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P.s. check out me, in non-pyjama attire and out of the house after dark. Things must really be on the up.

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He got a good little haul of chocolates to add to his treats from Gran and Auntie Theresa so all in all a fab Halloween.