19/52

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon:  Cymru am byth!  Wearing his Welsh football uniform during morning play.

I can't believe it's only been two months since we packed our bags and made our way to join Daddy in Wales.  It's good to be complete again.

In case you've missed it dear readers, this blog is moving here.  I was going to change the name in order to steer away from the mommy blog toward creativity and vocation, but I don't think I will now.  I was getting a bit stressed over-thinking the changes and decided that simplicity is most important for me right now.  It's also why I've decided to stick with Blogger rather than moving to Wordpress or Typepad or another blogging platform.  Baby steps toward change make for smoother transition.

19/52 // Yarn Along

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Afon:  At the end of a day in Llandudno for the Victorian Extravaganza, he is all smiles in front of the camera.  This stolen moment of poutiness shows another side of him that is all too familiar (and rather precious, when it's not 3 o'clock in the morning)!

I must have shattered my immune system eating Cornish pasties (sigh!!), Coca-cola, and clotted milk caramel at the Victorian Extravaganza because I was out of commission for Monday and Tuesday.  But today I am on the upward trend again and determined to eat more natural, wholesome food for at-risk thyroid diet (I know there's no scientific results for such a thing as adrenal fatigue, but the proof is in the pudding, so to speak).  I think what got me better for today was avoiding gluten all day yesterday, so I will avoid that as best I can.  Thank you for your love and prayers to get better!  Gosh, I'm sorry for talking about my health all the time, it must be terribly boring.  So let me make it up to you with some positive reflection: learning to live with an illness, especially an undiagonesed one, really makes the days in-between more precious, and gladdens my heart to be alive!  I am so thankful not to have to work right now, so all the little snatched moments can be given to Afon, whether it's just having him trail behind me holding onto my shirt while doing the laundry or being able to draw a picture for him.

Speaking of which, Mr. Afon got a stroller!  So Mama and Afon are going to attempt to go out walking for exercise like we did back in Florida.  It was always nice quality time for us, energized me for the rest of the day, and ordered us toward a better schedule.

I'm thinking about doing a summer retreat as well.  The Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Mary, whose church we attend, have a house of prayer for just such a thing.  Masha, Jenna, and I have been talking about refreshment and renewal and how that is different for everyone; how even the most family-oriented people (maybe especially them) need some solitary time, and that is not just a thing mothers need set aside especially for a certain day every year.  We plan on talking about our distaste of Mother's Day in the upcoming days, so come back later for that.

Meanwhile, the story is getting underway with some excellent critique and encouragement from M. and J., and I'm reading Donald Maas's Writing 21st Century Fiction.  The blanket has been finished for a few weeks now, and it came out lovely, with a white scalloped border.  Simple and sweet.  I'm starting on a new crochet project as soon as I get the wool!

17/52

April 28, Divine Mercy Sunday.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon: a sort of moving portrait, on the playground.

I was sick from Tuesday onward this week, so these pictures are from Monday.  Nothing new since then.  We've been taking him out for long walks each day to get him tired and have noticed a profound difference in how long it takes to get him to fall asleep.  He still stirs easily in his sleep, though.

We had a beautiful walk home from Mass in Colwyn Bay today along the seashore.  But Afon tired quickly and kept intercepting me as I walked, pulling me by the arm where we held hands and nearly tripping me: "Hold me!" Silly boy!

Today, on Divine Mercy Sunday, Pope John Paul II was canonized Saint John Paul the Great.  The Catholic blogosphere is abuzz with celebration, and many of them have stories of how the saint touched their lives personally, whether in person or from a distance.  If you're not Catholic, did you know that JPII was canonized today?  What do you think, or did you think when you heard the news?  What is your fondest memory of this well-loved pope?

Pasg hapus, everyone!

16/52

April 22, Easter Tuesday.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Afon: with characteristic pout and dirty mouth at the park.

All of Holy Week leading up to Easter was sunshiney and warm.  Easter Sunday was gray and overcast.  So it goes.  Tired from Easter preparations, we spent the day inside lazing about and eating large quantities of chocolate and drinking fizzy drinks (American: soda).  On Easter Monday, John's family and best friend came over and we had a nice visit, with my mother-in-law's homemade cheese scones and peaces and custard for dessert.

Happy Easter!  He is risen!

15/52

April 13, Palm Sunday.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon:  a rare photo-smile standing next to the phone booth.

We got up early and went to Conwy on Friday, which was perfect luck, because the temperature dropped and the sun hid its face immediately after for the rest of the weekend.  It was a mother-son outing.  We brought our own lunches, and the bus ride took over an hour with all the stops and back-roads.

I thought he would be extraordinarily interested by the resident castle in Conwy (and my personal favorite in Wales), but he wasn't.  So rather than spend the extra money for admission, we went down to the quay where this picture was taken, stopped in at the library, strolled in town, petted the tame hawks and owls in the garden next to the Knight Shop, and bought some penny sweets.  Wine gums are my favorite.   I might have stolen one or two or ten.

We popped our heads into a small child's shoe store, and Afon immediately took to a primary color pair.  Since he'd been needing new shoes anyway, we bought them one size up, so he can have them well into summer.

14/52

April 6, Fifth Sunday of Lent, Passion Sunday.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon: he's been ill this week and threw up several times, but is impossible to get to rest.  This is a rare moment of triumph for Mama.

An uneventful week.  I realized last night while I lay in bed that I was feeling homesick for our old, beautiful apartment back in Florida, for the first time.  And you know what triggered it?  Thinking about my lovely, superior functioning washing machine and dryer.  That I sold for $200 together (!!).  Missing them terribly now, with the washing machine that locks tight as soon as you turn it on, so you can't add a article of clothing you missed--now it's stuck and apparently broken; and the dryer that just heats up the clothes more than dries them, but the dampness outside keeps line-drying from being very efficient.  And they're all. so. tiny!  I have to make three loads out of what would have been one in my old laundry set.  How do British people with large families keep up with all the laundry?

13/52

March 30, fourth Sunday of Lent, Laetare Sunday.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon: down by the seashore, with a runny nose and a sour temper.  Mama and Daddy are making him walk an awfully long way to get a cookie.  c;

We went by the sea road on Saturday into town to apply for a library card, stop at the bank, and eat some chips.  Afon's clever new trick is to proclaim, "Afon crying!" whenever he is distressed and wants attention.  He noticed that when he whines, I go to him and ask, "Why is Afon crying?"  So he furrows his brows through crocodile tears and declares, "Afon crying!"  All through Mass this morning!

Today is Mothering Sunday in the UK.  So happy Mother's Day to all you British mums!

12/52

March 24, Feast of St. Catherine of Sweden, daughter of St. Bridget, who petitioned for her mother's canonization in Rome.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon: with his new favorite bear, Rupert, which belonged to his uncle and then father when they were very young.  He humors me by standing against the wall so that I can "teek uh piture."

Yesterday, John took Afon on a father-son trip to a Cadbury chocolate factory, and left me without any money and no fast-friendly food in the house.  So rather than do the noble thing and subsist on apples and bananas for the day, I broke fast completely and indulged in all my favorite British foods I've been missing: cherry bakewells, a pork pie, prawn cocktail flavored crisps (chips), a cuppa tea with milk and sugar, Jammy Dodgers, and a chesse and chutney sandwich, with sharp Welsh cheese and caramel onion chutney.  Gluttony, thy name is Christie.  The only thing missing was a Cornish pasty.

Back to fasting today.  But I get some consolation from the maple syrup in my tea.

Afon is resilient and seems to be transitioning well enough to his new environment.  He now has a partner-in-crime to indulge together in their junk-food addictions.  (And I don't mean me!)

11/52

March 16, Second Sunday of Lent.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon: on the airplane just before taking off to Wales Tuesday evening, hugging his "Puppy" close.

We attended Mass this morning at the small church provided for the priory in Old Colwyn.  There were no children whatsoever.  I wasn't too nervous about Afon's behavior, as I've resolved a long time ago not to let the disapproval of others interfere with Christ's own command to let the little children come to Him.  But I do try to be reasonable, meaning I remove him if he's being downright naughty, like crying or yelling, and that is very rare.  He usually just likes to test the echo of his voice in new churches and to loudly exclaim "Jesus!" after my pointing out the Tabernacle to hush him.

To our delight, everyone was fantastically friendly.  I was so pleased.  The man helping to serve (I don't know if he was a deacon or some other official working for the priory) asked to write down our names so that he could remember them and introduce us to others.  Several other people came up besides and said it was so lovely to have a small child in the church and said to Afon, "I enjoyed your singing," with the sound of a smile stretched wide in their voices.  One woman in the RCIA program even told us that the very day before, they had been discussing how there were only a few little girls, all beyond the age of First Communion, in the church community.  "So we must pray for a little boy," she had said.  And so it was.

Later, his Grandfather, Nana, Auntie, and baby cousin came over for company, and he was showered with attention--not to mention presents.  John's aunt from Cork sent along a decorative Celtic tea towel, a Saint Patrick's Day badge, and two t-shirts to choose from for Afon to wear tomorrow.

It was a veritable Lenten feast with breaded fish, gnocchi and tomato sauce, salad, and boiled carrots and potatoes (and cherry bakewells and squares of Toblerone for those with less strict disciplines).  Tomorrow I'm looking forward to an early break in the fast, as we celebrate the feast of Saint Patrick!

10/52

March 9, First Sunday of Lent.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon: at the doctor's office, waiting for the nurse practitioner.  He's oh-so ticklish when the otoscope goes in his ear, but in the meantime, he does his best to tear up the inoffensive treatment room.  No hat, but he's very glad for the hood.  One last check-up before the big flight.

His phrase of the week?  "Beebee an Mama go ta Wells.  Beebee an Mama go ta Wells."

Yes, son.  Very soon.  c:

9/52

March 1, Feast of St. David, patron of Wales.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon: looking upwards, not sure what at.  A night shot outside the Knights of Columbus potluck.

Today is Saint David's Day, and I wonder if the daffodils are blooming in north Wales to welcome him.  In a little over a week's time, we'll find out.

I've explained to Afon about the move; about how Daddy has a "house" there ready for us; and drew a picture to show how we will fly on an airplane over the ocean.  It's hard to know how much he understands.  There is still so much to do.

8/52 // An Adventure Rightly Considered

Feb. 22, Feast of the Chair of St. Peter.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon: in the store parking lot one evening, cookie crumbs and a bit of paper are all that are left of his shopping treat.

I didn't get any photos of Afon this week, so I had to fall back on the past month's "archives."  Some weeks are just busy like that, and you don't get to pick up the camera, of have the presence of mind to make a conscious effort to take a portrait.  But these few weeks, we've been getting ready, and we have some news.  In about two weeks' time, we're moving to Wales, to join my husband, Afon's daddy.  We've been separated since November 2011, but John is finally ready for us to join him and has accommodation and means to support us.

I'll continue to blog during this new phase in our lives and am excited to bring you along for the journey.  We're cautiously optimistic that things are going to work out for the best.  Still, your prayers and good wishes during this difficult but hopeful transition never go unappreciated.

Linking up with Practising Simplicity and Amongst Lovely Things.

7/52

Feb. 18, Feast of the Seven Founders of the Order of Servites.

"A portrait of my child, once a week, every week, in 2014."

Afon:  caught in the middle of a chuckle.  Quick to laugh, quick to cry, my boy is.

Last week Afon turned three years old.  He got this John Deere hat (pictured below) about a week ago today as an early birthday present and likes it so much he refuses to be without it.  He falls asleep in it, and when I take it off of him, he wakes in the middle of the night and cries to have it.

I watch him with his precious hat.  He puts his hand up to the bill and adjusts it.  Takes it on and off to pat down his dampened curls.  It's a new phenomenon, this motion of himself on himself.  As a toddler of two, he acted upon things in his environment; but he was less likely to adjust his shirt or put on socks. Even brushing his teeth and feeding himself was fumbling and babyish.  Now I am astonished to find how at home he is in his own body, how he commands it to do his bidding.  It's just part of the long separation, between him and me.  When we stopped nursing, it was a landmark.  But it has only now become very present to me, this awareness that he is less and less part of my body; and the gap between when he lived inside me grows larger and longer.

We had a birthday party for him; and because I love St. Valentine's Day and I suspect that next year he will be willful and insistent enough to suggest his own, I made that the theme.  Oh, but he enjoyed himself!  He's been singing Happy birthday . . . to . . . yooou ever since.

Happy birthday boy, happy birthday boy!  In the sweetest voice!