Conversations with Art.

In the mornings I dress him in his room by the heater. He rolls around in delight on his schmoooozy blanket, pulling it over his soft baby skin and losing himself in the silkiness of the fabric. He cannot resist a good schmooze. If he even slightly touches something soft, he literally melts into it.

Mid schmoozing, he pauses to crawl over and hit his 'Chinatown' frame so the music starts up. He looks at me, bopping his head and smiling, as if to say "that's better aye Mum?".
He likes music.

Sometimes when his Dad turns on the stereo, Art is so instantly overwhelmed with excitement and emotion he smiles and cries simultaneously until he can compose himself again and starts bopping. We die every time.

Whilst dressing him, I tell him what he is going to being doing that day and what I'll be doing.
"You're going to Jane's house today Arthur, and you're going to see all of your little friends".  I start naming them, watching his face react in delight when hearing the familiar names. We talk about the games he will play and what's in his lunchbox and his naps he will have (hopefully) and when I'll be picking him up.

He converses with me in his husky babble as if to tell me what he will actually be doing! He often chuckles to himself mid sentence which is pretty adorable and I'm desperate to know his thoughts.

I then tell him what I'll be doing. "Mummy is going to go to work today...and bore him with details of my meetings that day and what projects I'll be working on" . I figure somewhere in that little mind he will be retaining these conversations and will develop with an understanding of what I do on those days when mummy is gone.

I'm yet to have a day when I say "Good morning Little Bear, do you know what we are doing today?! Nothing!" I do find that he is starting to really listen and converse a lot more, and I try to explain as many things as possible to feed his inquisitive little mind.

"Arthur, we are going to go to the swings after breakfast, are you excited?"
His beaming face says it all.

"Arthur, do you know how much Mummy LOVES you? THIIIIISSSS much (arms out). He crawls over and puts his head on my lap and goes "ahhhhhhhh".

He is one in less than two weeks time and I'm in denial. Too much love over here.

I can't help but feel some days when I've been at work, he takes time to forgive me. I know it's stupid, but it's like he is angry at me. I'm not met by a child beside himself with happiness to see me. He isn't the same boy who beams with excitement when we get him up in the mornings.
Instead I find he is quite content doing his little thing and is like 'oh hey mum'. 
A little distant.
My heart hurts a little bit.

I make a point when we walk through the door, to sit down together and have on one one time for at least 30 minutes before I do his dinner. I find after half an hour he has forgiven me and is back to his loving ways. Or is it that after 30 minutes my guilt subsides?

It's working mum anxiety I'm sure. I know deep deep down that he doesn't resent me and he is so young he probably doesn't harbor complex emotions like that?!? I know it's my own doubts creating these thoughts and seeing these things...but I am constantly finding myself shrugging them off. I talk myself out of these mindsets. I reassure myself that he will grow to be proud of me, he is well grounded, balanced and has a very full life.

I think the problem is that I just love this boy more than anything I've ever experienced before. This is a human I'd give my life for in an instant. I beat myself up CONSTANTLY about EVERYTHING. It is so ridiculous. At the end of the day I know he feels the love we have for him. He is so so lucky. He is surrounded by love constantly. Everywhere he turns someone is smiling back at him or bending forward for a kiss, arms outstretched for a hug. He truly is loved.

So there you go, my guilt and emotion out there for the world to read. I feel a little naked and stupid.

Goodnight.