Your Fifth Birthday 3rd November 09

You are 5 today! You seem so grown up – a lively boy.
You woke at 6.45 and came into our room for your presents – Lego, a game of Jenga and a little cupboard I made you filled with pictures and sweets wrapped in coloured cellophane. You seemed quite measured about it all.

1st day back at Kindi today, then we went for lunch in La Ruca. You ate a huge enchilada and could barely manage the flapjack which came with a candle in it. A woman in the café was so impressed by your patience – you had waited for ages to ask for a new fork as yours had dropped on the floor – that she came to give you a pound as a present!.

Lovely sunny day, though I was distracted by some sad news. We played with lego when we got home. Then Sol, Leon, Uncle Nick, Aunty Anna, G’ma and G’pa,Daddy and Bruno came for fish and chips tea and chocolate cake. We had been to buy the fish yesterday and you were quite curious about everything at Toveys the fishmongers – asking about the decorative fishing nets and buoys.

You often ask how things are made. How do you make books, how do you make lego – then answer – it’s plastic, it’s probably made in a factory. You don’t find it at home etc. yesterday you said – I invented it’ – about a game you played. First time I heard you say that.

You, Sol and Leon had great fun pretending you were driving a racing car – 2 boxes made out of cardboard joined together with you 3 sitting one in front of the other. All lively and raucous and fun. Party in the woods at the weekend.

Last couple of years have flown by – the routine of terms and holidays. Your fourth birthday seemed like it was yesterday. In the last few months you have seemed older, more questioning, more ‘you’.

March - October 2009

18th March 2009

Spring is Sprung!

We re-connected again after a few days away. I was in London at the weekend and you have been having a busy social whirl, visiting friends’ houses and playing in Cotham Gardens everyday in the sunshine. When I first returned from London, you ignored me and had a little ‘collapse’ on the second day, needing me to hold you, feed you, dress you etc, especially after waking from a sleep coming home on the bike. You find transitions/parting difficult and today could not leave the park because you wanted to play more and go on your scooter. You cried all the way home and were very upset. It was only the distraction of opening a parcel full of ‘polysty’ worms (polystrene packing chips) that changed your mood.

We sat on a blanket in the afternoon sun ‘ yummy, this looks nice’ you said about your buttered hot cross bun and pear. ‘Two for me and two for you, that’s fair’, sharing your fruit and a bite at at time of the bun. Then we happily dug up the ivy and pulled up roots together in the sunshine to make a place of mud pies. I felt a sense of happiness and relief just to be on our own in the back garden.

23rd March

A weekend away in Capel-y-ffin with K, R and family. You were so excited to be running around with a friend. Lots of rough and tumble and leaping along corridors. You played for ages in the stream, making dams and bridges, sludging up the mud, splashing in the water. Each evening you keeled over in exhaustion, your little cheeks red-hot.

Sunday, Mother’s day – you awake at 6.30 rumaging through luggge for the ‘mother’s day card’ – a little felt flower brooch you had sewn for me, which at first you thought was a present for you. Had a long chat with K about all the challenges with you, how I get wound up by your rudeness, shouting and occasional lack of co-operation, and she said how it was all designed to get my attention, all negative attention, which it certainly does.

She mentioned about having rituals and spending time together, and having afternoons where I just let you take the lead. I had been thinking about how we need more time at home. Then I realized what a busy week we had planned, rather crestfallen that there seemed to be something on everyday.

Today we went to the park with M from your class. You were happy on your scooter, but it was freezing and the wind was cold, a contrast to the beautiful sunshine of the weekend. As we drove home, both chilled to the bone, I suggested a bath as soon as we got in (about 4pm). You wanted to sit by the fire and warm our toes. You were so chatty in the bath, wanting your hair tied up like mine, playing ‘ponds’, pouring water into the gap created by my collar bone, playing with the water temperature, talking about things that sank and a whole conversation about fitting lots of things into our bathroom which I can’t recall.

Then you said ‘I want to sit by the fire together and warm up our toes, and have barleycup and a bun, and cuddle up together and read stories.’ We can do that I said, but I haven’t got barley cup or buns. When you were lying wrapped in your towel, the big picture suddenly fell off the wall and all the glass smashed in the bath. You burst into tears with the shock of it. I held you for a while afterwards. I talked about how scary it was, like it sounded as if the house was falling in.

‘The bricks are very strong’ – you needed reassurance that the house was ok. A great few hours. Until you started playing up when it was nappy time, running away, being boisterous. All day long I have heard you exclaim ‘facky, facky’ and ‘oh, facky’ in frustration. Have tried to ignore…

26th March
Thursday Cycling in the woods with J – you so happy, confident on your red bike as you whiz through the trees. The last 2 days you have returned to the house exhausted and gone upstairs and been quiet for ages – I have found you in the bathroom cleaning the sink with bits of loo paper, flannels and various cloths, completely absorbed in your activity. You have wrapped the soap in a flannel to keep the sink clean and have got quite upset when I have left the soap on the side and got it dirty.

You picked and played with your food at dinner – pasta, chilli and broccoli. I sat and read a magazine after finishing my meal to stop myself getting wound up by your fiddling and the fact that you take ages to eat. Yesterday we had a total show down and the lovely day ended hideously with me yelling out of impatience and irritation.

We had a bath together - you asked me to come in with you, and I said why – ‘ I like it – cuddle’ you replied in your baby voice. Sometimes you say ‘massage’ to me afterwards when you are crouched, wrapped in a towel like a little egg. And I stroke your back, but today you said you would massage me. You loved warming your hands on my woolly cardigan. On several occasions you ignored me when I asked you to stop splashing, or stop pouring water on my face (you were happy filling and emptying vessels).

Afterwards I said I needed you to listen to me; please don’t clean the bathroom with loads of loo paper or my posh Neal’s Yard face wash. I said otherwise we might not be able to go on the bicycle if you did it again. You suddenly looked very serious and said ‘I won't do it again cos I want to go on the bicycle track’, and then lay your head on my knee (we were both sitting on the bathroom carpet at the time). I felt that for the first time something had finally been comprehended.

The other day we had been chilled to the bone in the cold wind and I said I wanted to have a bath to warm up. You wanted to warm your feet by the fire. When we were in the bath you said ‘ I want to sit together by the fire and warm our feet and drink barley cup and have stories..and cuddle up together’ – so touching.

Tuesday 5th May
So many gems. One day you invited me into the bath for a ‘smoove water massage’ which involved pouring water over my back. Then at the weekend, we were at Dunraven bay, Southerndown – you wanted me to take my socks off so you could massage my feet with stones, ‘lipstick’ stones – long oval shapes, clay red in colour. You found a long black feather and got very upset when it was blown away in the wind, because you wanted to use that for the massage.

Saturday, I was busy gardening, writing for my course and I guess ignored you, though you had lots of fun with Daddy – going to Hawk’s Gym, up in the attic, etc. I realised that each time I spoke to you it would be to tell you not to do something, in a slightly exasperated voice. At bedtime I came to say goodnight and blow you a kiss from the ladder and you spat in my face. Daddy stopped reading you stories and switched off the light to your protesting.

The next day I asked you about it and you said it was because you didn’t want me to blow a kiss, but I think that was just a pretext. I was sure my absence from you in the day had something to do with it.

Your sayings: ‘It doesn’t mind’ for I don’t mind.

Using toke as in I toke it (for I have taken it, or I took it)

A lot going on since Grandad died on April 19th. We had spent a lot of his last week with him and one long afternoon in the hospital, then the funeral last Thursday. You took it all in your stride – ‘when is it going to start?’ you asked at the church service. You noticed the crosses on the priest’s cassocks and said how there were crosses in the cemetery and crosses at the marching where Grandad had been – and soldiers. There were two 2nd WW war veterans carrying flags with the coffin.

At the cemetery you helped put rosemary and soil into the grave, and later you said ‘Grandad is strapped in his box.’ These were the ties for lowering it into the grave. You were impressed by the 5 large black Mercedes of the funeral cortege.

You and I. danced around on the front lawn later in the afternoon and you made the girls laugh by going upstairs with them and putting your shorts on your head and dressing up in boots etc and running around the house. You have been coming into our bed in the middle of the night the past few nights, which is exhausting.

We have all had terrible coughs and you are very blocked up in your chest and are a bit tired and miserable in the afternoons.

7th May
The other day I went to do Assistant Cover at the KG. – Inspiring to see the teacher’s approach with the children, managing the little disruptions/conflict. I saw you in the playground, first you just waved from afar. And then after a while you kept coming up to me and saying ‘hello’. On the way home I said ‘ what was the best bit about today?’ You just answered ‘Mummy.’ I was touched.

11th May
Reading Infant Observation journal and have been thinking about my relationship with you as a baby, compared to now. Then went to bed last night and lay thinking about our weekend alone. (Pete in Scotland). I felt you wanted my company the whole time (wanting me to play with you – cars, football, in the garden, or to sit with you and drink barleycup on the picnic mat) and I just had to keep doing/finishing other things – clearing up kitchen, putting meal on. I must have got cross with you about 4 times each day. You would misbehave to get my attention or not listen to me (banging cupboard door) etc. I always end up trying to get away, leaving you and going to my room, or trying to put you in a different room. We resolve it, in circles , but being loving with each other .

7th May (Pete away)

A warm, sunny, windy day. I spend the morning making rhubarb cake, shepherds pie etc and not making it to studio after acupuncture. Sadly, I have to drag you around Tesco’s after I pick you up after lunch. You never just sit in the trolley (I have probably only taken you to the shops half a dozen times). This time you were climbing all over it and whizzing along on it as if it were a circus vehicle. I kept hoping you wouldn’t crash into anyone.

You got a rare ride in a 50p car outside afterwards. You wanted to get down before it had finished as you weren’t that impressed. You were upset in the car on the way home as you had set your heart on making a pair of roller skates or a plastic skateboard. ‘Let’s make a den in the garden,’ I suggested. You were n’t very impressed and seemed grumpy about everything (missing Daddy I think).

A sheet, the chairs, stories, something rigged up 10 mins before dinner, in the garden. Then you wanted to eat in there and would only sit at the table if you sat on my lap. A lot of crying, as I got the extra chair.’ You broke my house.’ You said. Oh it’s all hard. Then you were cold.

June 5th
I was pretty mean to you yesterday afternoon. We came in around 4pm, just in time for me to begin supper. I sent you upstairs to wash hands, mindful that you could not be up there too long on your own after the episode a few weeks ago when you and J. trashed the bathroom – pouring talc on the carpet and squeezing virtually half of a brand new tube of toothpaste down the loo.

After 10 mins prepping veggies I went up to find you. ' Err I am just cleaning.' you said with that mischievious look on your face. I noticed you had squidged the soap into a melted pulp – again! I have asked you about 4 times not too do this. I was cross with myself for leaving you up there on your own too long.

As I was talking to you about it, you walked off, ignoring me, pressing all my buttons and I ended up yelling at you. I felt furious – you ran off downstairs saying ‘anyway I want some peace ‘ and shut yourself up in the dining room. Later you lay on the door mat in foetal position saying ‘ I want daddy.’

It took a while to persuade you to come to the table. I was cool towards you all during supper time and when you asked when daddy was coming home, I rather meanly said he wasn’t coming home because he was cross with you for being naughty. Where is he going to sleep you asked. Well I paid for this stupidity later, because throughout the evening you cried out in your sleep a few times, and just as I went to bed at midnight, you plodded silently into our dark room, clutching your doll Sam that I made for you, and climbed into bed with me and huddled into me really close, making me wrap my arms around you.

I lay there for 10 minutes and then carried you to your room. Hold my hand for a little while you said as I put you on the ladder to go up to your bed. I stayed for 10 mins while you went back to sleep. Today – a much better day. I collected you at 12.45 from school and we came home and pottered in the garden. You were excited about the gardening gloves I had bought for you. You did a bit of digging for me but didn’t really sustain the interest – making things with sticks instead, using netting, playing with water etc.

We found some woodlice under the flower pots and you persuaded me to put them near their other woodlice ‘friends’ Though at one point getting restless and boisterous, a little bit under engaged. You suggested making a tent, and various other elaborate comings and goings then said ‘We wont’ do that today, we ‘ll do that on a different day. Today we will just play – so I am going to play with people in the street “, so off you went out the front door while I carried on in the back.

At bedtime you tried to run away and play your games, but I didn’t take the bait, and we lay calmly in bed - you with a sunny cloth as a turban to stop you bumping your head on the headboard, and with your 3 cuddlies – teddy, monkey and Sam. After lights out I said what a lovely afternoon I had had with you. Me too, you said. You were very affectionate – saying I love you and covering me with kisses.

June 16th (Notes from June 5th)
‘chatterjackbox’ (an illustration of jack in the box in one of your books)

‘snort holes’ – referring to your nostrils.

‘I don’t want to go to big school. I want to go to my school (for ever?). Big school is boring. I don’t want to do writing and numbers’)

Sunday 7th June
Climbing on us, playing in bed, talking to yourself while we attempt to doze, duvet on our heads. Suddenly the phrase ‘acceptable boy’ was bandied about, like it was the name of a superhero character! Not a phrase or adjective I recall using with you. One day that week (Tues), you played in the garden while I tidied the kitchen. Your phrase/please is often ‘Come outside mummy, it’s really lovely’, or ‘it’s nice and sunny ’or ‘it’s beautiful’.

I heard you crying, you had grazed your knee falling up the patio. You cried that you were tired. I carried you up to our bed to lie down for a bit of quiet and a remedy. You wanted stories and cuddling. I think we listened to a story CD. You then came downstairs for supper, but wanted to hold hands. You were very needy that afternoon. You have stopped running out to cuddle my leg when I collect you, and last Monday, when you walked off without saying goodbye, I left feeling really hurt.

17th June Weds
We went to R and M’s yesterday. When I picked you up from school you asked me ‘where are we going?’ You wanted to go to the park on your bike, like Joe. We drove homeward and I asked you if you wanted to get your bike from home and cycle over to M’s, tho’ I could see you were too tired. You kept saying you wanted to go to the park. So we drove straight there.

When you realised where we were you became hysterically upset saying you wanted to cycle there. I took you out of the car, after you implored me to lift you up, but then you started to kick me so I had to put you down a couple of times. I sat on a chair at the front of R and T's house, with you on my lap as you sobbed. It took 15 mins to calm you down. I distracted you eventually with the idea of a mini milk ice cream, and R got you a pineapple lolly from the freezer.

We lay down in the garden in the hot sun while you busied yourself with a rubber dinghy boat and oars that was on their deck. You played wonderfully imaginatively, piling lots things into the boat and pretending to on a journey. You invited me on and we had a pretend picnic together, and rowed to an island (their willow wigwam), which R. had planted in March. On Tues pm I set up the paddling pool, you invited me to come in with you. Played boats, rowing to an island (real oars) eating sandwiches.

26th June Friday
Pete left for Spain the day before yesterday. I woke up feeling low on that Wednesday morning – a hot midsummer’s day, the air close. It was your midsummer festival and we walked to the meadow in St Werberghs to have a picnic and sing songs around a small fire.

‘Full flaming fire, by they light glowing
Show us your beauty, vision and joy’

You were exhausted by the heat and wanted to lie down on the picnic blanket and cover up and took a long time to join the rest of the children sliding down the steep dusty slope to have dust baths. We ate loads of cake…. Yesterday (thurs) J. came for lunch in your new tree house and you ate together up there. Afterwards you went back to his house for tea while I went to visit the UWE degree show. Inspite of you spending the entire afternoon together, you still did not want to leave when I came to collect you.

When we came home I had to ring Katie. (She had agreed to talk to Janet, an experienced teacher about some tips as to how to make meal times go more smoothly), so I tried to get you ready for bed before my phone call. Your level of co-operation was mixed, and as usual I became exasperated. I left you listening to a story CD while I spoke to Katie. You interrupted a few times and eventually wanted me to finish. When we finally got into bed, you surprised me by being all cuddly, putting your arms around my middle when I read stories to you from ‘this little piggy went to market’ or ‘jogging rhymes’. You kissed me and said I love you. More affectionate than in the day time

June 29th Monday
Lovely waking today. You came into our bed – Pete not here – and cuddled up next to me. Saying ‘cuddle’ curling into your dormouse position. A contrast to the other morning when I was downstairs early and heard you cry out. You were grumpy because you didn’t find me in bed and you lay crying on the floor – needing lots of encouragement to dress and start the day. Lovely weekend – intensely hot. We attempted to pick strawberries in Frampton Cottrell with K, but it was scorchingly hot and the plants were disappointlngly empty of fruit. We ate a picnic in the corner of a field in a handkerchief size spot of shade. You lay down listlessly in the shade.

Later you played in the tree house together and were quite inventive. Best part of the weekend was picking redcurrants from our bushes and climbing the ladder to get cherries with Grandpa (from the tree on the bike track that overhangs the garden). We also picnicked at Saltford lock / weir. Many boats, canoes and kayaks – you were sad that we didn’t have one and said ‘bring one’ as if I had one at home to bring. Your evening exhaustion brings a boisterousness and waring rudeness – you are into rhymes – yes I do, Mrs Poo ‘ ‘where’s my Hongas bicycle?’ creative rhyming with language. Can’t think of examples at the mo.

4th July Llantony
Conversation overhead between you and your cousin. ‘Are you ever going to go to school?’ S. asks you…
You to S: ‘ I thought Nana – you know she is the woman – was going to be the winner, but then she died, so Grandad was the winner. He was really old, but then he died. So that’s sad, isn’t it. And now he is in a box, buried in the ground, with the soil on top of him.’

9th July
When I collect you from school, you always say ‘Mummy what are we doing? Yesterday you said ‘ Mummy, when I’m home I want someone to play with like a brother or a sister.’ Week of July 13th Today we had lunch in the tree house, a new exciting place, all your own. Afterwards I tidied the kitchen and you played in the sunshine. Suddenly the bell went. It was you! You laughed in your wonderful chuckly way. ‘I tricked you!’, you said. How did you get here I asked. ‘I climbed the gate!’ (a curly metal sidegate, about 6 foot high). ‘You’re so clever’ I said. ‘And brave’, you replied. Yes, as you told me how you climbed over the ‘polly’. ‘What’s the polly?’ I ask. ‘You know, that thing you put on the Christmas cake – a large overhanging bush of spiky holly. I grinned to myself.

We were on Whiteladies Rd and you noticed the poppies/wreaths on the war memorial. You talked about the dead people and asked what the writing was on the stone. I said it was the names of the soldiers who had died. You asked me to read it out – I read out every single name on the memorial, at your insistence. Then you remembered the aeroplane wreckage at Talybont, and talked about the battle which was about cannons, swords and shields and that the people had died. But they don’t die in the ‘new days’, as opposed the ‘olden days’. A rosy view of battles.

H came to play. Later, we went for a walk to post a letter and it was pouring as it had done all day. Both of you loved playing with the water, splashing in puddles besides the kerb, floating ‘boats’ – sticks, rubbish etc in the fast rivulets that ran at the edge of the road. You didn’t mind the rain and I thought how wonderful it was, so elemental and exciting to be in it. A child’s perspective of rain – so delightful.

Memories of Agios Nikita, Greece 19 – 26th July 09

‘spompanadel’ the name given to you by the 3.5 year Viennese girl Livia. Together you splashed in the swimming pool for hours at a time. The word is Viennese dialect for a joker. She said you were like a clown because you laughed all the time. You played with a lilo and the noodle, pretending to float your boat across the world, stopping for fuel stops and buying food along the way, playing with daddy or sometimes totally absorbed on your own. You were slightly listless and grumpy with the heat but kept saying ‘I love Greece’, though not enamoured by the seaside because you were spoilt by the pool. The waves were a bit scary and you liked to cling to us.

In the pool it was something else. You confidently swam to the deep end, in you life jacket and flippers and wanted to spend all day in it. You found pebbles on the beach which you coloured with blue felt tip, and collected bits of plastic flotsam and jetsam, bottle tops etc which you played little games with. Back in Bristol, lots of rain. We went to the sausage park (St Andrews) where you had your face painted like Spiderman and watched a Punch and Judy show in the rain (under a gazebo). You laughed with B and R (from Kindi) at the terrible transgressions of Mr Punch, knowing that he was ‘very naughty’ indeed.

11th September

You woke up yesterday all bright eyed and bushy tailed. ‘I woke up early' you announced to me. You were eager and enthusiastic about going back to school. I had talked to you about it the day before. You came in our room and came and lay on top of me saying how warm I was. We went to school on the train, and you remembered oh so many things and asked lots of questions and held my hand as we walked up the hill past Cotham school, surrounded by gaggles of huge children.

Not our usual peaceful walk because we took the earlier 8.07 train rather than 8.40. ‘Teenagers eat sweets and listen to cool music and stuff like that,’ you said as we passed the 6th form centre, There were loads of gangly youths, smoking and with head phones on, talking about so and so being a crackhead etc, occasionally swearing. You were unusually co-operative and helpful the whole day. Going back to school and being with you to take you there, I felt like we had re-established our bond.

When I dropped you off you had your ritual of giving me a kiss and a cuddle, going off to the loo and then doing it all again. Afterwards we went to see the cousins and you spent a while laughing together in the garden in warm autumn sunshine, making a pretend fire, squashing fallen apples. 15th September Play – you have discovered my collection of old puppets, lovely fabric and velvet pigs, elephants, lion, wolf etc plus a sweet wooden headed granny type. After seeing Punch and Judy this summer you do your own version. I once found you with the box outside in the street doing a show for all the children, making everyone laugh.

On Sunday you did a version at L’s 3rd birthday after S had told a story of his own and N. and I had been puppeteers. Yesterday I reflected how easy it was to collect you from school after lunch, how you came willingly, co-operatively compared to a year ago, when you used to cry and lie down in the footwell of the car not wanting to get in your seat. We had a great afternoon, and I decided I would get my watercolour inks out and see if you wanted to join in. Now you always say how you hate drawing and painting – if I say do you want to draw, you always say no I hate it.

This compared to autumn 2007 when you were in Wendy’s and every afternoon you used to say, I want to do painting in the attic and ‘I want to paint til I’m really tired. But now, if we start doing it, you want to join in. When I went downstairs to put the rice on you boldly helped yourself to more paint which I wasn’t pleased about but then thought that it was better you had this initiative. You always like me to ‘help’ you with your picture ie do it with you. We sat in the sunshine in the attic, painting at my table. I thought how nice it was to be in the light rather than the dark of the kitchen.

When we got back from school, you spent a while in a regressed state, talking with a baby lisp, sitting on my knee and wanting to play physical games with me before I persuaded you to come up to the attic. Later when cooking dinner, you played out on the bike – all the neighbour's children were there too. You like to lend them your other bike. It was going so well, I though we could eat outside in the street, as you love to do, so we took out your little table and chairs.

We chat to the neighbours as we eat and you focus on your meal and eat without fuss. Usually A. comes and comments on the food, how nice it smells etc. She is a delightful, friendly, inquisitive 6 year old. It all fell apart when it was time to come inside. You refused to listen or co-operate and wanted to go off and play, running away from me. Eventually I brought you inside but lost my temper. Your latest phrase ‘you are the bossiest mummy in the whole wide world (or the rudest), or yesterday it was something about being stupid muttered under your breath. I was furious.

Sept 23rd 6am
Life feels busy, coming and going to school, the park, friends, playing in the street. Yesterday, because you had a cold, we sat by the fire. When we came home at 4.30 and you had barley cup and stories it felt less cosy than I anticipated. I guess I wasn’t very relaxed because I wanted to cook supper. You kept asking when Daddy was going to be home, you associate stores with him putting you to bed, and I felt inadequate.

We have come back from a long weekend of travelling to west Ireland, ferry from Fishguard to Rosslare and 3 hours of driving each side, but you slept in the car. You were so excited on the ferry. We had a little cabin with en suite shower room and you looked out of the window as we left the dock and said ‘now we’re out on the open sea’, a phrase I think you picked up from the Ardizzone books – Tim and Lucy Go to Sea etc.

You loved being at Eva’s farm, visiting the hens to feed them and collect eggs, playing hide and seek around the farm buildings, a house with lots rooms and quirky things in, like a stuffed dog. You ask so many questions about everything. Somewhere I read that the average four year old asks about 400 questions a day. That seems about right and it can be exhausting thinking about how to respond. On the first day at Eva’s you said, ‘ I want to live here for my whole life’, always a sign you like a place. Eva said you would then be there as an old man and probably be bored of the place!.

Her son John fed you up on home grown potatoes and his balsamic dressing. They had a huge plot of garden full of black and curly kale, carrots, beetroots etc. Your excitement on the boat reminded me of how much energy and vitality you have, and how we are old and still in contrast. What happens to all that aliveness as we age?

You have been talking of your birthday plans for months. How you want to have /do a Punch and Judy puppet show, have strawberry sweets from Sweetmart. Can we do a Pinata, can we do a treasure hunt, you ask – and got me to write it all down. You also asked ‘If we can get the polly from the garden and put it on the Christmas cake (at Christmas)’ (Holly!).

24th Sept

Beautiful autumn sunshine and impromptu picnic at the ‘sausage park’. No one around to play – but I was glad, because you wanted to play acrobatics with me. We re-connected after what feels like a long time. You lay next to me on the picnic rug as I rested in the sunshine, then lay on top of me for ‘some sunbathing’, inventing the wriggle cuddle, having stripped off your trousers – it was so warm. You played games putting trousers on upside down, t-shirt on your head; we did balancing postures and larking about. Everything felt very easy this afternoon – was it the sunshine, my mood lifting?

You were even co-operative when we came home at 3.30, came in from the street when I called you. I had only one moment of crossness when you said ‘it’s disgusting’, on seeing the food, and putting salad back in the main bowl after you had spat on it when it had been on your plate. You were quick to answer back and I could see us getting into a cycle of rising fury. ‘Don’t’ answer back’, I said. You repeated it back to me but with the pointing finger.

Later we had a bath and played a game of ‘where’s the diamond (a purple plastic jewel) that you hid around the bathroom or stuck between your toes. I realised that feeling relaxed and trying to be unhurried about bedtime makes so much difference. I had asked you to help clear the table then, tyou could go outside, you asked why, then did it. ‘ Can I do anything else?’ You asked – when I said yes, you can…you wrinkled up your nose and said ‘I only want to do one job.’!

We cuddled up doing stickers and stories in our bed – it was all so much more harmonious than usual. You were unusually affectionate, hugging my legs and arms, and then both Daddy and me, when he got in.

October 6th Tues 7am

The last few days you have woken around 6.30 am, uncharacteristically early, and have got into our bed, but wanted to get up and play with us.

‘What shall we talk about?’ you say to Daddy, often interacting solely with him. I make the most of my extra snooze time. ‘It’s your choice’, you add, so that we can choose the topic of conversation.

But yesterday you came in half sleepy and climbed in with me in the darkness. You know that I do not tell you to go back to bed when it’s night time. You snuggled up to me, putting your arms around me, hugging my arm, climbing on top of me briefly. You were so cuddly but soon you asked if it was morning and that you wanted breakfast.

You got up and played with bits and bobs in your room, wanted to find the cars and play a game in bed with them. One morning (Sat?) we were up so early I was making a cake with you at 7 am. I was so surprised to find you awake as I was about to creep downstairs alone to bake.

Oct 27th Tues Half term

You have a tickly cough, now a bit of a cold. You woke me around 3.30am shouting out, ‘Mummy!’ and I brought you into our bed (Pete in Edinburgh at Frank’s funeral).

You are especially needy, talking in a baby voice, wanting me to do everything with you – crying in a distressed way if I don’t allow you to have your own way e.g.wanting to put a turban on after me doing your nits, and wanting to keep it on for dinner.

You wanted to rest before supper, lying on the sofa and having stories, and want extra cuddles if I seem to upset you by not giving in to your every whim.

As I lay with you at bed time, you held your teddy and told him what you did today. ‘We built a den, didn’t we. And had lunch in it. Did you know that?’
‘Night, night, I love you very much. You are my best friend.’ All whispered quietly to teddy as I lay beside you.

January - April 2009

14th January

Here are some gems from Christmas time:

Carol service at St Mary Radcliffe. We were right at the back and you soon said you wanted to go home. You could see choir master leading choir only on the video. ‘Mummy, why is he flapping his wings?’

We walked round Clifton Sainsbury’s one afternoon after school. You were getting fed up, climbing in and out of trolley, generally moaning and testing my patience. We saw Ali from school who said how funny it was that you were never like that at school. Soon as you were wondering around, I was aware of a 2 men shopping just out the corner of my eye. ‘Look’ you said urgently, ‘that man has got really little cheeks’. He did have the most hollowed out, ill face I had ever seen, very little grey hair and looked quite frail. ‘ Yes, it’s called death’ he replied. So we met Death in the supermarket? I guessed he might have been a gay man with Aids; he seemed to be shopping with his partner. I was shocked by his face, and later explained to you that he was really poorly and didn’t like being looked at.

Christmas. The magic of your face when you opened your stocking on Christmas day. You were so composed but pleased at the same time, and kept saying ‘another present!’ You were so thrilled by the few little things in your stocking (little boxes of sweets, chocolate raisins, some tangerines, a crystal, coloured lip salve etc) and would have been content with just that. But another dozen or so presents awaited you downstairs…

Christmas day you 3 boys ran excitedly around Anna and Nick’s house, chasing each other. Lovely that you have 2 cousins to play with.


27th January

Just been to a gathering of parents and children. You recognized 2 girls from Wendy’s class and started chatting to one immediately. I remembered both of you as toddlers and thought how amazing it was you could communicate with one another. Another boy whom you had not met before, about 4, immediately began getting hyped up as soon as he was next to you. You both had paper plates, you were eating some food off yours, and he was hitting himself over the head with his and shouting out something. I wondered if it was some sort of testosterone territorial ritual about claiming space. Suddenly you shoved a paper plate in his face. I was about to get cross, and then realized you didn’t like what he was doing, and could understand why you reacted in that way. I also connected with all the reading and thinking I had been doing about Steiner philosophy and found myself saying. ‘Plates are for eating’ – well for eating off…

I feel in a place of awe and wonder, in respect for the philosophy. Have been reading Lynne Oldfield’s ‘Free to Learn’, which puts into context the methods used in kindergarten and why things are done the way they are. I like the idea of protecting and nurturing a child’s senses through careful choice of what they are exposed to in the first seven years, because they are so impressionable and only gradually begin to distinguish themselves from their surroundings.

I love the idea of the reverence and respect for the child, and that one can trust them to learn things, as they need to. That it is an organic process. The importance of imitation and example as a way of learning – that physical development has to be prioritized in the early years, rather than intellectual development; a child has to gain physical confidence and emotional security to be ready for cognitive learning at the age of 6.

JG introduced me to the ideas of Pikler who had done research with babies, and found them to be especially co-operative when given careful attention and love. It is so obvious, and applies to all of us.


Thurs 5th Feb

You were so tired tonight; you were hyped up and chatty for ages. Even after arranging yourself with your 3 cuddlies and sunny cloth, which we have just re-found, you kept talking to me: ‘I know, lets tell secrets and Chinese whispers’. Me: no its bedtime, its really late. You: we can do it really quietly!

Amazing day – the second day of snow this week. I woke at 6am to find the garden covered in a pretty white blanket. I lay worrying about you and friends, knowing really that you are fine. Wasn’t sure we could get to school, as roads may be blocked. Also had electrician coming etc and couldn’t work out logistics – i.e. would trains be running. In the end, when I had decided maybe not to go to school, we had a call to say, school closed today.

Kelly and Rich looked after you while I went off for an hour – we traipsed up their snowy road – Easton all looked more magical, clean and quieter than usual. I longed to play with you and make this a special remembered day. You did loads of sledging and apparently knocked over people’s snowmen, and eventually I went out with you at 2pm, when everything at Purdown looked wet and bedraggled but we still managed to find some muddy sledge runs. You have a cough and soon look red-cheeked. Later you said ‘I’m really tired’. One of your phrases: we are going to go in the sauna then have supper, then have 1 story because I ‘m really tired, then go to bed.

We have had some really special days this week when I treasure being just us two together. You often want to do things with me – like today when we got in. I said we should take our wet things off and sit by the fire, warming our toes. You wanted me next to you on a cushion, sharing hot chocolate and hot milk together.

You came into our room the other morning and sat with me in semi darkness, playing a game of finding and counting my moles and me yours. It was time to get up, but I couldn’t’ resist it. All the children at school seem to be busy going to the park and having afternoons with their playmates. Somehow that doesn’t happen that much for us, though we have had some children around to play – you often get over excited, and show off. Last week toys were broken and I struggle to feel I am coping. We can have such a lovely time together and I so enjoy your company – and I know that when I focus on you – let you join in with my activities like preparing supper, you are happy and co-operative.

I am aware that this time will soon be gone, and though I have felt I should be developing my interest elsewhere, I have no spark or passion that drives me, nothing that absorbs me quite as much as you have done these past 4 years. When you are at Kindi I sometimes wander around totally unable to decide what to do – so much to do in the house, and so many ideas for my work, but none of them quite pulls me enough. I sit aimlessly, restless and marvel at the women who have been able to harness their creative energies, feeling slightly overwhelmed at their drive and enthusiasm.

Your new words – I want to go on the snowboggan.
Walking to school as the first tiny fleck of hard sugary snow fell down on Tuesday, not sticking, you say ‘I want to catch a snowdrop’. Opening your mouth and leaning back, then later picking up bits of snow to eat it.

Recently I have come across two people who have been bereaved, a mother who lost a grown son, and another who lost a child. It weight heavily on my heart, to outlive your child must be the saddest thing to live with; to look back and remember their child hood, and all the things you went through with them. I feel fiercely close to you, like you are physically a part of me, a limb I could not live with out.

Silent snowy world

We have built snow people and been sledging – you love speeding and being out in this magic element. You call pieces of frozen ice ‘snow glass’ and seem to be oblivious to the cold, your sodden sock inside your wellies and your wet muddy trousers.

As we drove to the office to collect our sledge, you said
‘It’s very quiet isn’t it, as quiet as a little birdy. As quiet as the plants.
Because they don’t speak, and they don’t cough.

After bath the other day, you asked for a massage – and then we played a game of a conversation in your made up language:

mid jammi noz eh
bog in na
bonny mola mina – it’s your version of French.

We heard a song on Radio 3, a rain song from Papua New Guinea. I said I didn’t know what language it was. I cant remember if you asked if it was French, but then said ‘it wasn’t French because they didn’t say bonjour.

Sometimes you ask me to scratch your back!


26th March Thursday

Cycling in the woods with Joe – you so happy, confident on your red bike as you whiz through the trees.

The last 2 days you have returned to the house exhausted and gone upstairs and been quiet for ages – I have found you in the bathroom cleaning the sink with bits of loo paper, flannels and various cloths, completely absorbed in your activity. You have wrapped the soap in a flannel to keep the sink clean and have got quite upset when I have left the soap on the side and got it dirty.

You picked and played with your food at dinner – pasta, chilli and broccoli. I sat and read a magazine after finishing my meal to stop myself getting wound up by your fiddling and the fact that you take ages to eat. Yesterday we had a total show down and the lovely day ended hideously with me yelling out of impatience and irritation.

We had a bath together - you asked me to come in with you, and I said why – ‘ I like it – cuddle’ you replied in your baby voice. Sometimes you say ‘massage’ to me afterwards when you are crouched, wrapped in a towel like a little egg. And I stroke your back, but today you said you would massage me. You loved warming your hands on my woolly cardigan.

On several occasions you ignored me when I asked you to stop splashing, or stop pouring water on my face (you were happy filling and empting vessels). Afterwards I said I needed you to listen to me; please don’t clean the bathroom with loads of loo paper or my posh Neal’s Yard face wash. I said otherwise we might not be able to go on the bicycle if you did it again. You suddenly looked very serious and said ‘I wont do it again cos I want to go on the bicycle track’, and then lay your head on my knee (we were both sitting on the bathroom carpet at the time). I felt that for the first time something had finally been comprehended.

The other day we had been chilled to the bone in the cold wind and I said I wanted to have a bath to warm up. You wanted to warm your feet by the fire. When we were in the bath you said ‘ I want to sit together by the fire and warm our feet and drink barley cup and have stories..and cuddle up together’ – so touching.


10th April Good Friday: Liverpool

Delightful day today. You came in our room at about 7am and stood next to me waiting for me to notice you. I was half awake but lying with my eye mask on as usual. I persuaded you to get in next to me and you curled up and lay perfectly still for about 5 minutes. Then there was an unusual amount of kissing and cuddling, you sweetly affectionate. These days you often come into our room exclaiming ‘where’s my clothes? I want to get dressed!’ (Even at 6.45), so snuggling up with me is rare.

Soon you wanted breakfast, so you and me went down and ate together. Unusually Granddad Jack stayed in bed all day today, as he didn’t feel well, so we were on our own downstairs in the ‘parlour’.

After a while I went up stairs to do some stretching/yoga. You came up to do some ‘exercises’ as you call them. We had fun doing acrobatics and balancing on the floor and the bed. I let you lead most of the time, and you comment how certain postures will make us really strong. You like to sit on my bent knees and then wave your arms around, making fists. Then I said I would go running and you wanted to come, so I thought why not. You were really sweet, wanting to run and skip down the road holding my hand. We alternated between running and walking round the field, you leading the way, sometimes running higgledy piggledy, sometimes following the white lines on the field. Then we played pretend football, kicking an imaginary ball. You said how you wanted to do a sequence of running, pretend football and exercises, and then go home ‘ then we’ll be really strong’. We had a real laugh and afterwards when I went to stretch out my legs to ‘cool down’, you also stretched your legs – but made to pull one end of your leg from the other, which made me want to laugh, though I stifled it! I felt we were more connected than we had been for a long time, and appreciated how nice it was to be away from home, but in another home – somewhere welcoming and homely, but without the responsibilities and stresses of our own house.

We have seen a huge velvet bumblebee coming and going outside the kitchen window. You love being in this house (Brentwood) and are fascinated by all aspects of it. On the first evening we explored the garden in the rain, and went to sit in the greenhouse (this after you scratching your hand on the bolt of the door to garden). You wanted to go in the garage – but only with me. You say things like ‘when you are old, and I am old and daddy is old, we will need a big sitting down lawnmower like grandpa and then we will have to get a garage to put it in.’ You showed me the photos around the house, pointing out all the recognisable people, and said ‘Mummy come and see the dead people’ – then pointed out Nana. You talk in a very matter of fact way of how Nana died and is not here any more, but I can’t believe you really understand what it means.

You seemed vulnerable yesterday with also cutting your hand on the carpet at Pete’s office – you had been playing with a car, then stood up – I saw your face crumple, a look of bewilderment passing across it. Suddenly you are more needy of me and need to be held and comforted. Normally you insist on being independent, and often get cross if we do things that you would prefer to do yourself – like open doors, or strap you in your car seat.

We have also played hide and seek, both inside and outside. It’s a great place to play because there are so many large cupboards and trees to hide behind. You laugh so excitedly when you find me or are found. Sometimes you don’t look properly and leave the room I am hiding in. Then I hear you call out ‘mummy, mummy, do you know where your are?’

It has been a lovely relaxing day of eating – noodles and stir fried cabbage, crab and salad, all of which you wolfed down. Then we made some of Jack’s special desert – fruit, cake/biscuits and cream/yoghurt, with ‘hooch’ for the adults. You have been acquainted with the Liverpool speciality of spray cream, the squirting of which makes you giggle uncontrollably. We managed to get out of the house about 3.30 and made it as far as Greenbank park (nr Sefton Park) for a scooter ride.

The Memory game after supper and then bed.

Last week we were in Plymouth from Friday to Monday morning. We spent two days picnicking on beaches with Sophie, Chris, Samuel, Laurie and friends: Sat at Wembury, a national trust beach close to Plymouth, and Sunday we got a ferry across to Port Wrinkle in Cornwall; a lovely deserted beach with wrinkled rocks and lovely rock pools. It was surprisingly hot and sunny and you loved playing with the sand and the sea. You played alone for a while, exploring the shoreline and splashing in the waves, but you also mucked in with the other children – there were 7 children there altogether. It was great to see you with Samuel again – you made each other laugh so much and really enjoyed being together. You didn’t scrap at all or bicker over toys. It felt like you just picked up from where you left off – we last saw them in June last year. I had a brief moment of sadness when I suddenly felt the loss of our shared times together when you and Samuel were babies and toddlers. It feels like so many things have happened since then, that we are in a different phase now with our children. As Claire has said – when your child goes to school it is the end of an era. Being in Plymouth this time, I felt, for the first time that I became acutely aware that an era had ended.

Thurs 16th April Easter hols

We took the train today to Severn beach with Sol, Leon and Anna – we met them on the train and Leon was laughing and full of beans – you all ran up and down the empty carriage and played musical chairs. We walked along the River Severn and you lot did roly-polys down the grass verge. You and Leon seemed to really identify with each other, and he loves to imitate you, hold your hand and be with you. It felt like a day out, though we were home on our bike by 12.30.

Then a long, difficult afternoon because I was on the phone trying to book a holiday and you were getting up to all sorts. Initially you were engaged spraying the rose tree with fairy liquid, but then you had got more bubbly and were spraying it over the rest of the garden. After each 10 minutes of silence I felt I needed to check on you because you are becoming more and more daring in your pursuits. (In Liverpool you had emptied the entire contents of my liquid soap down sink and loo as retaliation for me putting Grandad’s liquid soap out of your reach).

I did too many phone calls today, and you could be heard shouting, crying or generally being demanding in the background. Or else, trying to snatch biscuits etc from under my nose when I had already said no.

You were quite tired and floppy, and I think hungry, for a lot of the day. At one point you ran away outside and banged the door shut, and I didn’t open it for 5 mins as I was on the phone. I ignored your banging, and when I did let you in you were distraught, but not for long. Your upset became an ongoing whine. I felt slightly frustrated as it seemed like the one afternoon I was not able to engage with you, you played up. I think I am fairly attentive to your needs and desires most of the time. It was 5pm, the baked potatoes were in the oven, but I thought ‘ we are going to have to get out of the house’, so went to buy milk, and suddenly everything was ok. You were really helpful in the shop, wanting to carry the bags etc.

When bath time came you got in, and then said, ‘I want you to come in Mummy, then I can give you a smoove water massage.’. This consisted of pouring water over my shoulders and rubbing my skin with your hands, interspersed with hugs. You lay the facecloth on my back and leaned into it – all part of the treatment! ‘Rub a dub, dub…3 men..no..

A child
A grown up, Peter, a man
And a woman in a tub..

Then you continued to describe how we could all take turns massaging each other next time. You were delightfully thoughtful and engaging, and it made up for the lack of connection we had this afternoon.

November 2008

3rd Nov. 4 today. T should feel magical, special ,momentous, but I have a cold, it is really damp outside, with Siberian winds blowing. I feel grimly depressed by my relationship. You were happy and excited to open your parcel this morning from Daddy = a large yellow CAT digger. When he left we did play together a bit, then I made a cake for your birthday tea with Hannah and Mathew and Iris. I wondered if I could get through the day, feeling rough from a cold and really tired from waking at 3.30 and then 5,30. then you waking at 6.30. We cycled to the bakers and Sweetmart, where you started lying on the floor in exhaustion and yelling at me, and I wondered if we would get to the end of the day. I so wanted you to nap, so I could lie down, but instead met with Rowan and Jo at the playground at Eastville Park. It’s now 11.30, and have watched a film with P, and realized that I could have made the day more special and would have gone out if it wasn’t for our tea party, and our total exhaustion. I foolishly agreed to have 3 children here with no other adults, and by tea time you were exhuberently crazy, jumping up at the table, and ignoring my requests to sit down, and winding up Mathew into mischief (blowing icing off cake and spitting on it..). I took you out of the room briefly I was so frustrated by your lack of attention to me.

I even yelled at you at bath time for completely splashing me with water. I’m fed up of your cheekiness I said – and you said ‘ I’m tired’. The day was too long and too exhausting. And no time to reflect and share that I gave birth to you 4 years ago, right here in our bathroom. Sorry to be mean to you on your birthday – I really tried, but it was a day like any other.


11th Nov – on friday last week you kept saying how you didn’t want to go to school, and ‘I hate it’. You would not get out of the car, and had to be carried. You cried a lot, and did not want me to leave. You have been showing great signs of reluctance recently, and I wondered if you have been having an unhappy time there, or whether there was something going on that I should be aware of. Monday you went in fine, because it was your school birthday ‘I want to go in when there is cake, but not on any other days!’. You wore a special birthday crown you made, and a cloak and Katie read a story about you that I wrote, while Ali lit a candle for each of your 4 years. We went home early, as you have been staying for afternoons on Mondays, but today, Tues, you stayed til 3.15. I picked you up as you were tidying things away with Katie – you were in the playground, face splattered with mud.

When we got home I started singing the autumn ring time songs to you, and you were delighted to show me how the windmill song went. We both threw our selves on the floor and ended up doing acrobatics and balancing in the hallway – you standing on my bent knees and holding the banisters with one hand. You were very respectful and kept saying sorry when I made strained faces as you squashed me. You kept curling up on me and cuddling my arms and legs, locking your head between my knees and laughing. We must have played like that for an hour or so. Early on in our play when you lay beside me, you said, with sudden realization ‘ I don’t see you when I go to school’.

Suddenly everything made sense and I realized that your complaints about going are to do with the realization that it’s regular, predictable separation from me, and now you have got over being exhausted by it, and the novelty, you have realized that we don’t see each other so often. I said that I missed you when you were at school. We were the best we’ve been together for ages – you were so loving and playful rather than the grumpy, unco-operative person you seem to have been for so many days when I have collected you from school.

Afterwards I finished cooking supper, then you decorated some ginger biscuits with lime green icing, and still came up to me to hug my leg afterwards when I was washing up at the sink – you haven’t done that since your were about 18 months! I felt so happy that we hade made a connection again.

Conversatons in the car on the way to school: 20/11

I: you have golden hair

Theo: golden hair and white. What colour is your hair?

I: I am not telling you (keeping it secret under hat!)

Theo: I want to be a musician when I grow up

Singing to your self, tying string, ribbons all around dining room. I am sewing at machine, Pete doing a drawing of your bunk bed that he is building. We have been at School Christmas fair all morning. Maybe you have had loads of cakes/choc brownies but you are manically talking and jumping around. Photos are scrolling on our computer, one of strange hogs at Cotswold wildlife park. You talk about a ‘hurleybog’ – what is it I ask, what does it eat? ‘ it eats tables.

I am aware of how much your speech had progressed, that you know speak ‘properly’ like an older child most of the time and am sad at the passing of your funny ways of saying things – though still say ‘clift for cliff.
Mummy can I have a n orangu tan, you asked after breakfast today. (meringues from school fair).

You have exhausted us recently by waking at 6 am and coming into our room and having naps at strange times – 2pm 5 pm etc, then not falling asleep til 10pm. One morning I went in spare bed and you lay on top of me to keep warm, wrapping your arms around me. How nice to share a bed I thought. The same thing happened the next morning except this time you wriggled and complained how you weren’t comfy etc, and I was glad how well you normally sleep in your own bed.

You have been enjoying my make up and bindi’s recently , drawing eyeliner around your mouth – so you look like a demented clown and wearing bindis everyday, ever since you had one at school for Diwaali.

We have all been ill – papa with a bad wheezing chest, in bed on his own for the last few days, even coming home early from work to go to bed.

I am tripping over your bits of string/ribbon tied to all bits of furniture, radiator downstairs…even the cable car you got for your birthday ended up as another piece of string.

Sun 30th Nov
‘I have got a noseblower, but my nose didn’t get blowed because I didn’t need to (a handkerchief)’ You have terrible night time cough at the mo.

Today we (Sandra, Lewis, you and I) went to your Advent Spiral festival at school. You carried your apple and candle with great reverence and purpose as you walked around the spiral and lit it. We have had a jolly weekend with Lewis and S, and it has been great to have company, especially as Pete had been in bed with flu all weekend. We spent all yesterday at the City Farm, seeing the lovely new piglets and you two played in the café after we had lunch (building lego towers). This morning you had your swimming lesson and had forgotten to leave your cossie on before getting dressed at home so we had to improvise with a pair of pants. You were rather reluctant and upset to go into the pool but I eventually persuaded you. I could see me getting cross and impatient would not have worked, though I was rather exasperated!

Near meltdown at supper time as you tried to insist pouring yourself a glass of milk, but I wouldn’t let you, so you pushed the cup away (half full) and spilt it on the floor, and me. I was livid, but managed to hold myself together, and got you to clean the floor. Afterwards had a conversation with Sandra about all the times I v’e lost it with you, and how I have such a short fuse, and that we often seem to have battles at mealtimes. Have agreed that I will phone S every time I lose it, to help me think about what I am doing and whether it is appropriate.

I feel I have struggled with you this week – Pete has been ill, and you have been tired, as have I. Sometimes I can’t cope with your moaning and lack of co-operation, your insistence on doing things in a particular way, your shouting, throwing things and rudeness. And have wondered if I have done things right. Spoke to neighbour J about the challenges they had with their youngest son, and he suggested I chat with his son about what has worked best in modifying his behaviour. He also very sweetly offered to have you for a while anytime I need respite.

Meeting 2 weeks ago with you teacher Katie about your experience in kindi.
In the class you play alone sometimes, when the other littlies are not there. You play with objects on the shelf, the little gnomes, and sing to your self, all with great pleasure You enjoy building, construction, making dens/houses with veils and string, and often have amazing focus, taking your task very seriously, I think telling off the other children when they don’t do it properly. You sometimes take the initiative, leading the game ‘let’s do this, I need you to do this’” I said I hoped you weren’t too bossy. I think you are quite self –sufficient. More recently Katie has asked you to help her with jobs, like washing napkins, to get to know you better.

The Forty Seventh Month: October 2008

10th
Friday: a day with just us two. A busy week, and one where we have both been holding it together. You are often exhausted and I feel especially tested by you when you are. I find It hard to remain patient, calm and detached enough to give you what you need, and be firm about what I know needs to happen. (Like how you always want to play in the street in the afternoons with the other children, but are usually so tired that there is usually a meltdown when I call you in for supper, so I decided that for the moment it’s best if you don’t go out to play at that time).

Today we had a great time. We went for a walk to the Grotto at Paradise Bottom – I am doing a rece for some nice woods for your birhday. We walked for an hour, and had a picnic overlooking the river – the river Avon as you surprisingly correctly identified it! You collected large dry branches (‘for the fire at my birthday’) which we dragged back to the car.
We found a glorious field for a birthday picnic, but may be too far for our purposes. Afterwards we bought lavender bushes from nearby Brackenwood Gdn centre and dropped into BFC for bread, ‘oaks’ and eggs. You said you wanted to play in the toyshop, ‘Scrapstore’, but I said no, because we had already been out for 3 hours or so, and you were looking exhausted. Mostly it was a ‘yes’ day for you, and I went along with your games.

It was good to be on our own, which feels like it doesn’t happen much these days. KG is very full on, lots of friends, play and busyness. Afterwards we sometimes see other people, or go to the park. You always love it all, but then hometime/tea time is trying, meal times are fraught with you playing up, playing with food, throwing things around from over- tiredness and I end up getting wound up and cross.

When we got home I asked if you wanted to make cards in the attic (‘inditation cards’ for your b.day) or help me in the garden. While putting shopping away you disappeared quietly for half an hour. You had blocked plughole with squidged soap – or was that yesterday? Then you tried sliding down stairs on the changing mat – which I said no to, because of large cupboard at bottom. A bit later I found you had bought your nappies downstairs and put them on your two teddy bears.

We spend two hours in the garden, digging up the dead veg/sweet peas. Weeding etc. Are your teddies sleeping now? – ‘yes they are having a snooze’. You soon entertained yourself with the garden canes, making wigwam shapes. I helped you with garden wire and you were soon extending the structure into a house, and ‘locking off’.

Things that have made me livid – you kicking your shoes off in the car after I picked you up – crocs flying through the air when I am driving, also apple cores, toys. God it is exasperating…

I have been on the edge of rage several times in last couple of weeks. Yesterday, in a moment of calm, you said ‘if you get cross again I will move to a different house and daddy will live there and you will be in the same house.’ !! I said this was an interesting idea and asked whether if when you next got cross with me, I should move to a different house. Then you talked about a friend and how you hit each other and said sorry.

Your schemas:
Floating /sinking – toys in the bath
Filling sink with water / blocking taps /plug with soap
Tying string
Blocking off areas / walls – building walls of pillows in the bed

Singing songs /poems in made up rhyming language.

Visits to 2 schools this week. Is this going to be my school? you asked yesterday.

28TH OCT – tues half term

‘Theo ‘s really sparlkly
theo’s very jolly, he likes a laugh..a really lovely character’ – said by 2 different parents who know you.

You came home exhausted from Kindi the other day, and I asked you if you wanted to have a rest and a story with me. And you said ‘ I want to have a loud time!’

Schema’s - more piles – throwing pillows, duvets downstairs when Jim was here – then sliding down the stairs, both of you in a fit of giggles (20.10)

Piling up all the toys in Leon’s room into his cot, then getting on top and pretending it was a boat – with you both in it.

A huge pile of books – all books of your shelf in a pile on the floor.

Now you say, I ‘m making a mess, but I will tidy it up.

The other day you laid your wooden cooker flat out of it’s hinges, and lay the doll’s bed blankets on top, and did a puppet show using a mini hammer and whisk with cork stuck in it, as two little characters, then you lay them under the blankets to sleep, you also liked posting things through the slot in the side of the cooker.

We have had a tricky week, this week. After 7 weeks of ‘term’ (kindergarten class at Katie’s 3 mornings a week 9 – 12.45), your exhaustion began to show – all that playing, negotiating and getting used to new children, new teacher and new classroom, getting used to older children in the group – ‘the big ones’ and ‘the middle ones’.9 I even overheard you talking to yourself ‘ I am a big one, you’re a little one’, like you were playing with it, coming to terms with it all.

So the week off that we have had has been much looked forward to. But you have experienced that as an opportunity to unpack your emotions. So we have had lots of scenes about getting dressed in the morning, or waking up and screaming with frustration about not being able to control things. Even when I have tried to play your games with you, as you like them, I cannot do the right thing, so we have completely mis-connected.

I have tried to remain detached, and empathetic, but it has been very difficult. And I wonder when we are going to be friends again. One day you sat down at the table and said ‘I don’t want that supper’, and later proceeded to spit in your food. So many times I walk out of the room, or out of the front door, leaving you crying, but I have no resources left, or will to engage with you in your obstreperous moods.

Highlights of the hols, was your birthday party – about 7 chidlren. We made crowns, had a treasure hunt and did some dancing/musical statues. Everyone thought it was quite chiiled – inspite of it being a group of mainly boisterous boys. You were so excited to see your friends at your house. WE just had another small celebration with your cousins, at the Monastery, where we went this weekend. Wind icy cold, and snow on the hills. We went tobogganing this morning – and you and Sol loved it. It’s been great to see you together – and with Leon too, when you are not trying to leave him out as the littlest one. You laugh a lot, makes dens and play all sort of inventive games, stay up late talking in bed in the dark and wake far too early , still talking. More children is somehow easier, as there is not the time and space to engage with them individually in the same way, nor the intensity of just me and you. You would be great with siblings now.

The Forty Sixth Month: September 2008

17th

Play today:

‘going to the dump’. The world map floor puzzle in sitting room was dump. Dolls house furniture in front room was the rubbish. My intervention: using the doll’s push chair which you were already working with as the transportation method.

You moved all furniture from house to other room, and building blocks and components of spiral puzzle to ‘dump’. We then sat on sofa and drove off. I was instructed to be reversing ‘beep beeps’ and was told exactly where button was.

I left you at Lucy time for the first time today. You seemed a bit reticent at first, but soon went off, happily separating from me.

2 days in new class with Katie, you are very exhausted in the afternoon. You called it ‘my new school’ and exclaimed with surprise that you had seen Jesse and Noah in the playground. You called their classes ‘new schools’ too.

Sat 20th
A hard week. Me washed out, exhausted from period. You settled Ok in the new class. But were always tired and clingy in the afternoons. My patience was limited and I wavered between being empathetic and exasperated with you. You started playing up again at mealtimes, playing with your food, trying to tip water into it etc, and that always drives me mad. I became drawn into your stuff, and just the day after I had talked to another parent about not engaging with the stuff of our children as a means of coping.

Thurs you said you didn;t want to go to school or Lucy’s ever again. I asked you what you wanted to do, and you said ‘go to the park everyday’. Thurs night you were crying and unsettled at bed time and getting up several times after we had put you to bed. I was trying to get away to make the birthday cake for Grandma, and was trying to be ’strict’ with you, get you to settle alone after I had sat with you a while. In the end, I held you cuddled on my lap and you fell asleep there in a few minutes.

I cried on Monday from exhaustion and period sickness. You were quite oblivious to my distress and carried on climbing on me and playing under the bed covers where I lay. I was later quite numbed by this and wondered if you were going to be an unempathetic man.

I tried to have a day on Friday where I focused on you. We cycled up to a school to have a look round, and past a heavenly smelling bakery on the way home, where I bought you a sticky bun, then we went and ate it in the park. I could see how tired you were, and by the time we got home (1pm) things were descending into madness. You were hitting me and throwing things, started by me removing the stool you were trying to drag upstairs tied to a length of tape measure. I felt a sense of panic and helplessness, as you ignored my requests to stop hitting me, and rang Pete, but had to go into front gardent to do this. Meanwhile you threw everything in the hallway on the floor…it got ugly. And you wanted cuddling

I sat in the garden and ate lunch, numbed and stunned and still feeling hostile towards you. Eventually I got a few things together and we drove to Willsbridge Mill, you slept immediately. We had a lovely afternoon in warm sunshine, playing by a stream, walking and climbing on things, looking at frogs and spiders and getting apples from a tree (you on on my shoulders shaking the tree).

The other day you played the whole day with Indi, and when we come home to have some quiet time in the ‘sofa room’ (reading stories), you sat down next to me and said ‘ I love you’.

We were walking to the park, and you saw a huge fat dead slug on the road.
How do slug’s cross the road is how you started the conversation.
You talked about how it hadn’t held it’s mummy’s hand while crossing the road, so that’s why it was dead, then asked ‘do slug have arms?’

Playing with M in the street the other day I heard you shouting at him: ‘you’re going on the naughty step’ You learned that playing at their house’.


2nd day in Katie’s class, you have news time and told everyone about boats on a lake and remote controls, speaking confidently as part of the group of children around a table.
Apparently at snack time you made everyone laugh with your funny songs..
One afternoon I picked you up and an assistant said how amazing you were, that you didn’t seem to be phased by anything. She asked how you were as a baby – I guess you were unphased – you certainly were very easy-going.

The Forty Fifth Month: August 2008

August 5th Tuesday

Yesterday we had a conversation about you going in the pushchair. I said you were a bit big to go in the pushchair (we walked to Eastville park in the driving rain with Rowan, Martha and Abdull). You noticed that your boots were poking out of the bottom of the rain cover, then said “ when I am big like Jack (neighbour, aged 8), you won’t carry me anymore”, recognizing that you are not going to need me in the same way. “yes, I said, but I can still cuddle you.’

You 3 had a great time throwing sticks in the lake, going perilously close to the edge of the lake, playing going on holidays and monsters by the boat launch. Martha sang to herself, while you two interacted with each other, but there was no squabbling the whole day.

The weekend had been a cornucopia of cultural and magical stimulation. I had frantically tried to get a babysitter so we could see an adaptation of a Moliere play, Dr Love. In the end we went and took you. You sat amazingly still, cuddled up with Daddy, but did not like the ‘shouting’ (ie operatic style singing), and said ‘I don’t like this story’ within the first 10 minutes. ‘ Why is that man shouting?’ then after a while you asked to go home. We left after the interval; as we were all hot and tired.

By co-incidence, the next day, we had tickets to see Gifford’s circus at Frampton on Severn village green. You napped on way there after the previous late night.

It was the most magical, inspiring, breathtaking spectacle I have seen for a long time – a 2 hour-long feast for the senses. You sat mesmerized but asked many questions about why things were either on or off stage and where people/things had gone to. You referred to the clown as ‘that silly man’ – recognizing him using the camera the wrong way round. When a Hungarian horse rider appeared standing on a horse and cracking his whip, you and I had our hands over our ears.

Afterwards you had a red hot little face, and we were all stripped down to our vests. You were entranced by having portions of nutty flapjack thrown to us! Your exhaustion, hunger and over stimulation led to a massive crying fit which lasted til we got home

PlaY: floating things – ie bath toys in the sink and paddling pool, and finding out anything else that floats – eg wooden wheels from ‘meccano’ set.

Rudeness: poo bum willy fart when I tell you off, and you have learned consequences. So if I tell you off or say if you are going to carry on like this , I am going to…(go and eat breakfast in the other room). You say ‘ if you do that I am going to …break all my toys / pour water on the table…

10th August

A week of out door adventures. On Monday we walked to Eastville park in the rain with Rowan Martha and Abdul and on Thursday we went to Bene’s magical birthday party in the woods.(In a clearing surrounded by coloured bunting). We all made hobby horses of cardboard, crayons, ribbons, wool and glitter, then you children ran off and played for hours with twigs and branches. We ate hot dogs and fairy cakes and adults drunk flasks of tea and glasses of damson coloured -cider. Parents chatted and surprisingly children did not get lost.

Saturday morning we got up at 5.30 under a pink streaky sky and went to Ashton Court to see balloons taking off. I felt I could do anything after getting up at that time. The rain held off til 8am (another picnic of croissants and peaches), then we went to John Lewis to look at beds for you…back home for a sauna and then packed for our hols. You slept for 3 hours in the middle of the day, and were full of beans again til 9pm. I was out babysitting and could not stay horizontal after 8pm. A strange re-visit to the land of sleep deprivation.

Today (Sun) we have been at Chepstow castle with Juliet H, and Alexander (8) , Thomas and Louisa (6). You enjoyed the big children and were soon running around, chatting and playing Frisbee, and climbing the ramparts.

Outside the castle gates, you rolled and slid down the steep hills, and soon were covered with mud. All of you were entranced by what I thought was a dead mouse, but turned out to be a rat’s head. You all discussed it for ages and turned it over with a stick.

Afterwards we went for a picnic at the observatory, to see the evening balloon flight but it was blowing a gale. We scurried down to the little playground and you and Bene played while B’s mum, Daddy and I drank cava and bellini’s and ate smoked trout. The sky looked grey and foreboding but we are hardy picnic makers. We managed to last out til 8pm while you two ran around on the rocks, balanced on the wooden logs and swung on tyres.

The Forty-Fourth Month: July 2008

1st July.
Theo, your sleeping has been all over the place – you have fallen asleep at 5pm only to wake at 5am the next day, then you ‘ve had to have an afternoon nap. It has all been exhausting and erratic – and when Pete was away. It was hard not having my half an hour in the morning to do stretches/yoga in the garden. We have just been camping to East Prawle for the weekend, me and you (performing with the Singers). You helped me put the tent up in driving drizzle and wind, helped by Gillian.

The weekend was hard work and relentless and I had much less contact with the other adults than I had hoped. You had a great time, playing with Danny’s Noah (nearly 5) and making sandcastles at the beach, splashing in the sea. I sat dazed in the sun and strong winds, staring into space as you ran about on your own at East Portlemouth – a lovely sandy beach fringed by trees, from which you can get the passenger ferry to Salcombe. We never made it to Salcombe as I could not prize you away from the beach once Noah had arrived. I felt torn between feeling I ought to play with you and wanting to talk to the others.

You and Noah played with Danny’s trailer on Sunday morning – fishing with his fishing rods, killing baddies and something about prisons – anyway, some sort of make believe game where you were 2 characters. You found a thick stick and some nylon rope that you became attached to. The stick became a ‘light saver’ (I think you meant light saber, but do not know about these and maybe heard it from Noah). You and Noah were chased by 16 year old Alex –which made you both giggle and be scared. You kept trying to hide near me as I was taking the tent down. Alex took your string which upset you, and tied your and Noah’s legs together.

I am in a well of loneliness at the moment, of existential torment, knowing you are growing up, and me at a loss of what to do. You have been my vocation, and your arrival gave me a sense of belonging and purpose like nothing else I have ever had.

14th July
I looked at you today – we have spent only a few hours together – and thought how grown up you seem. The way you say thanks when I do things for you, telling me the bath was the right temperature, your funny conversations about how things used to be in the olden days.

“In the olden days they used to call string ‘explainations’. But still, many a time you are needy little boy, and like to be carried when you are tired and talk in a baby voice.

Last day of term today before farewell festival tomorrow. We went for picnic at the Sausage park, and you and the rest of the boys busied your self on the play equipment, less interested in any lunch. You ran to bottom of playground and played stick games, buoyed up by enthusiasm and the boisterousness of the group. Suddenly J. turned up with blood running down the side of his face and it turned out you had hit him. I don’t think you understood the seriousness of it, and when I asked you about it later you volunteered you would say sorry next time we were in the park with J. You told me a story of how the others were poking you with sticks, so you poked them back. I told you need to tell them not to poke you, rather than doing it. Anyway, the incident is confused as some other children seem to think they did it. We can’t be sure it was you.

You came home to play at Hannah and Matthew’s house and looked exhausted when I collected you at 4pm. But amazingly seemed to revive being alone at home. You chatted to yourself as you balanced the brooms on the staircase, and tied bits of string to the banister & the chest of drawers – also joining pipe cleaners and a stethoscope on to ‘lock off the stairs’.

19th – 27th July Camping in Scotland
Glencoe, Knoydart, Mallaig. You loved the fire that we made, and poking sticks in it to make a ‘candle’ - flame on the end of the stick. You enjoyed swimming with us in your new wet suit.

Schema: making boundaries with objects and by tying things
Balancing
Tying things together: winding pipe cleaners around the struts of clothes rack. One morning you got the glue and glued pieces of paper which you wrapped around the struts.

The Forty-Third Month: June 2008

18th
From notes on the back of an envelope
Your baby-like words:

Sellotake – I don’t bother to correct you, as I believe you will learn in time.

Other day you said ver geener or something like that that I could n’t work out, than realized it was vinegar (talking about the cleaning spray).

‘locking off’ the steps (you mean blocking). You love to get string/ cardboard boxes and create obstacles to the stairs and tunnel.

Last Sat your Dad and I were hanging our pictures for the Easton Arts Trail next weekend. You were very keen to help and kept handing us pliers, hammers and picture hooks and the art work, even when we didn’t need them – and talked in your baby lispy voice, maybe to be more endearing.

Yesterday, after Wendy’s you fell asleep on the way home (on the bike), the bike becomes harder to ride as your head rolls to one side or the other at the front of me, sometimes leaning right down onto my thigh as I try and cycle. I laid you on the sofa and didn’t wake you for nearly two hours so I could cook supper (bean casserole - home made baked beans) and make calls to renew tax disc etc.

When you awoke you were initially grizzly but then full of laughter and jokes and wanted me to take my apron off and play in your tunnel with you. We rigged up a new den with the blankets tied to the banisters and you played with the torches in the darkness. It was a delight to see you in such a good mood at the end of the day. I just went with the flow and knew you wouldn’t go to sleep again til after 9 or 10 pm. So after a hearty supper, we drove off to Cribbs Causeway, and I managed to look around a few clothes shops. Although initially you did not want to go, I enticed you with the idea of some play cars to ride in – I was mistaken as there are none. But almost as soon as I arrived you started asking ‘where is the car?’ We found the outdoor play area – a poor apology for a play ground which we visited in the last 10 minutes – you were thrilled with the slide.

I bought some silver Birkenstocks in the first 5 mins – and you were very helpful in wanting to buckle them up for me. You were interested in the numbers, which you were reading from the inside of the shoes – or at least asking about.

Play:

Tying up your bike with your coloured wool

The Shell camera – a little oval shell with a hole in it, which you have treasured for months now. It disappeared for a while but is being enjoyed again. You look through the hole and take pictures.

Teddy – you ask me to dress and undress him, put him to bed. You like to bring him into our bed in the morning, and sit him on my knee when we have stories at bedtime.

In the mornings you declare ‘clothes on’ the minute you get up, implying that I need to help you, though you often dress yourself. Sometimes your pajamas are soaking wet from leaked nappy, but you take them all off and get things out of the drawer.

You are very attached to the ‘bee top’, a brown and yellow stripey t-shirt.. One morning I came in and the first thing you said to me was ‘’the cucumbers are cooked’ and handed me the wooden cucumber from the food set you have. Sometimes you cook teddy food on your play cooker.

Indi and Kate did a sleepover at our house this month and you entertained us by playing the guitar and making a song up about bees. You sat in the ‘tent’ singing sweetly for ages …’bee..bees’ based on a variation of playgroup song which includes:

‘pardon me, I won’t be home for supper or tea..
I beg your pardon.. I thought you were a garden’ which has you in gales of laughter.