The Thirty-Sixth Month: October 2007

4th
Last night you weed on the bathroom carpet on purpose about 4 times, then when I didn’t let you have a bath with me, you threw the wooden boat at my head, causing me some pain, and I called you a horrible child. I felt like a wrung out dishcloth and have no energy in the evening for writing

Sun 7th
Busy few days. Auntie Karen and cousin Madeleine to stay this weekend.
You played beautifully together on Thurs eve after we ate dinner – in fact you were less keen on food than usual and enjoyed playing in your boat together. The twins came round the other day and all of you squashed your huge cardboard box house into a boat. So you and M sat in it with blankets and piles of toys playing/rowing somewhere while us adults chatted.

You were throwing up before breakfast the next morning and were listless and not your self for part of the day. Gloriously sunny, we did a huge walk at Ashton Court, spending about 4 hours there investigating trees and looking at mushrooms and collecting sticks. We had a lovely picnic in the enclosed deer park. I got fit pushing you about in the 3 wheeler up muddy hills and over tree roots. You occasionally got out to climb up a tree, and were generally good at sharing the tree space with M.

That night we ate out at Teoh’s and you all went to bed around 9pm. Pete heard a little cry around 11pm – I was almost comatose from the big walk, and he went in to find you lying in a huge puddle of sick. So he cleaned you up while I dealt with the bedding. You seemed fine the next day, though we tried to keep you away from eating.

Big party for cousin Leon’s name day. I was entrusted to hold him while Anna and Nick read poems. You were very insistent - ‘ I’ll look after him, I look after him’ you said in your deep voice, putting your arms around his neck and almost pulling him over! You loved running off with Sol and Ted, being really lively. You reportedly said ‘ mummy says I ‘m not allowed to watch telly at home’ _ Auntie Karen asked you if you liked it, as it was on at the end of the afternoon – though you weren’t very interested. I don’t think I ‘ve ever said you aren’t allowed – but you have obviously picked this up. You seem to have so many other things you enjoy, there seems no need for television. Plus I find the content so pointless – it is just an electronic babysitter as far as I can see.

Lovely Westonbirt yesterday. You became engrossed with collecting sticks in the little paper bags being given out for seed collection. You went about it very earnestly.

Sunday 8th More Nature at Tyntesfield today. While we went round the house you sat on the floor and occasionally said ‘I want to go home’, but you enjoyed going round the gardens, seeing the cows in the field and the huge collections of pumpkins and squashes in the kitchen garden. Lots of huge trees and autumn leaves just turning, sweeping lawns and mellow fruitfulness. All this written in a grabbed moment, with no time for literary syle.

Monday 9th
You made me laugh today. We were having our ‘quiet time’, where you play/rest in your room and I do a few things downstairs, trying to have a bit of a break. Afterwards you came down as the neighbours (Paul and little Hannah) had called around, and I soon discovered that you had taken off your pull-ups (which I put on you if I think you are going to have a nap). You had managed to put the poo in the loo and clean yourself wth wipes (after a fashion). However, you had used almost a whole packet of wipes and put them down the loo! So I had to fish them out so as not to block the toilet. It’s the first time you have tried to deal with your own nappy.

Many times during the rest of the day you also drove me round the twist. The stress points are still: 1) mealtimes – you seem to be quite disinterested in eating these days, apart from if cake turns up, and 2) trying to leave the house, when you decide you want to do something different like vacuum cleaning , instead of putting on your shoes. You are also very good at trying to divert me from a plan , by trying to negotiate your way out of it. Like yesterday, when I wanted you to have quiet time after lunch, you said something like ‘first we can go to the park, then we can have story, then quiet time’ Or at the playground, in spite of you agreeing to having a last play on something, you always want to have another go on something else. You always challenge that I will make the final decision on something. At the playground I carried you off in the end, because I couldn’t persuade you to come. Guess I wont be able to do that when you are 14…

On the way there you were screaming in the back of the car, for effect and no other reason – with your hands in your ears, driving me to distraction. I spent the whole day feeling really tense, and on the edge. The house was broken into on Sunday, when we were out for the day, but even after the police and CSI people came on Monday morning no one could fathom how the burglars had got into the house, as there was no sign of forced entry. We managed to go swimming on Monday morning, you are getting really confident in the water now, and will walk around in it alone, and enjoy jumping into my arms from the edge – sitting jump and standing jump.. We finally went to Mina Rd park playground in the afternoon, which you ask about every time we drive past. There is a lovely helicopter climbing frame there, which you loved and climbed along it the same route over and over.

Monday 15th
We returned from a weekend in Plymouth with the Shotters. Samuel will be 3 this week. You were very excited about the prospect of seeing him and on Friday kept asking ‘are we going to Samuel’s now’ all day long. When I said we were going for his birthday, you got your stripey shorts out of the drawer and said you were going to wear them for the party.

We spent Friday getting ready , and I made the lovely orange and polenta cake at 8am. You were surprisingly co-operative when helping me, wanting to stir the mixture. I have learned that if I can get you appropriately involved in things, everything can be relatively happy and stress-free.

Friday morning you walked to the park and went to the library, and at one point after changing your nappy we played a lovely game in the bathroom where I held you in my arms and we pretended to be on a sailing boat – you singing ‘sail, sail, sail’. Although 5 minutes later you were throwing things around and I was on the verge of getting exasperated again. But amazingly, when Papa got home I told him that I managed to get through the whole day without shouting at you- also the same the day before. I thought I deserved a medal. Having you back in nappies/pull-ups for a few days certainly reduces the stress, as you seem to enjoy deliberately making puddles everywhere.

Plymouth – you were asleep when we arrived at Chris and Sophie’s beautiful new house, so we carried you up to a little bed on the floor. The next morning, you and Samuel were up well before 7am (S waking a lot at night at the moment, adjusting to his new home). You met on the upstairs landing and said hello in bright voices as if you had been meeting up for months. Both of you went to play with the toys in the conservatory, Laurie (now 1) attempted to join in with your antics. At one point you were both wearing masks and being lions, and Laurie asked to join in, being a little lion too! You were very sweet with him most of the time, putting your arm around him, while he gave you kisses. As with Samuel you alternated between being as thick as thieves to fighting over the same toys. It was great to hear you two having a conversation – about sticks in the garden. We picked the apples from the 5 apples trees, as all 3 of you were munching away on them.

We went on the bus into town, visiting the harbourside and the aquarium. I have this image of you both, standing on steps on your tip toes, pressing your noses against the glass looking at these rainbow bright fish. Afterwards, as we had 15 minutes waiting for the bus, we all dashed into TK Maxx by the bus stop to look for home bargains. You and Samuel managed to be lying on the floor in the middle of the shop entwined in a fun wrestle.

We adults were exhausted, by your early risings. You wake up these days and say ‘I’m hungry’ in a plaintive voice, and we try to avoid going downstairs before 7am. Sunday morning you were awake at 6am having heard the boys, and were complaining that your feet were cold and that you wanted you socks. I vowed to give you a huge bowl of porridge at bedtime.

We went to Wembury beach and you explored rock pools with Papa while Sophie and I managed to have a conversation, while Laurie grubbed about in the sand. Samuel was exhausted and feverish, so stayed at home to sleep. Later we had birthday cake and candles in the garden to celebrate his birthday.

Weds 16th
Anyone would laugh at my day, marvel at the chaos of our house, the energy expended in you. On Monday morning I was downstairs at 7am writing this and you woke Papa to tell him to clean you up after doing a poo on the bathroom carpet. Later I found the cat’s poo in the kitchen (they excavated the house plant in an attempt to be garden cats, because the cat flap had stuck). On Tuesday as I attempted to book flights to New Zealand ( hours distracted on the phone), you scribbled on the walls, climbed on the furniture and attempted to get all sorts of things of shelves you weren’t meant to have. The house looks like a bombsite, or the result of a burglary, with piles of upturned stuff everywhere. I manage to find time to play with you every now and again.

Yesterday you persuaded me to play in your boat, an enormous cardboard box, squashed flat. We piled all the toys in there – the wooden animals, trike, etc and then sat in it – you on the stool at the front, driving the boat. Later when I finally booked the flights (after 2 days deliberating over dates) I felt such a sense of relief. You had been screaming at me while I was trying to be on the phone (it doesn’t work for long) that I’m sorry to say, I put you in the kitchen and closed the door and you pressed your nose against the glass, crying to be let out. 5 minutes later I pretended to be a monster and gestured in front of the glass, and we were both laughing, we played tumbling monsters on the cushions and ‘we’re going ont a bear hunt’. You were immediately happy and laughing, and I knew that you just needed my attention. But now you no longer sleep in the day, we both get frustrated with each other as I have things to do and you don’t like me diverting my attention.

24th Oct
ah there is so little time! I am exhausted in the evenings and desperately trying to get your doll finished for your birthday, so my time has been diverted from writing. I wake up in the dark mornings thinking I ought to do yoga, but if I manage to get up and shuffle downstairs in the darkness, at about 7am, I write then. The need is still there, alive, to record our experiences together.

You have a cough and a snotty nose, which you enjoy blowing and generally wiping on anything that comes to hand, the carpet, your story book, my shoulders etc. you have been fairly miserable, and yesterday - a beautiful day of autumn sunshine, I dragged you into town on the bus. I was hoping to go to the Arnolfini, but as we only had a couple of hours, we trailed around a few shops. You enjoyed hiding amongst the clothes rails (a game you learnt from an Helen Oxenbury story), in between lying on the floor/pavement crying. Poor you kept saying, ‘I want to go home’.

Afterwards we got the bus back to Montpelier to Jeds, where you were adamant you didn’t want to go to – where I left you for an hour. Last week you cried so much and clung on to me, you didn’t want to be left, especially after just waking from being asleep in the car. This time I sat with you for a few minutes, and you held my hand, not wanting to let go. Lara took you on her knee to cuddle you and you held yourself stiffly, and kicked, but apparently you were soon playing with Jed’s wonderful array of toys.

When I returned you were excited because they had made a fire. Apparently you had also taken your nappy off to go to the loo, and wee in the garden, following Jed’s example. I know when you start playgroup you will want to be like the other children, and will know very quickly how to be in pants.

Yesterday you had no nappy on at home, and I told you off about something or other, and you said ‘ look mummy, I did a wee’ – a kind of dirty protest. I have started ignoring this, likewise your deliberate weeing on the carpets, because you think it’s hilarious, and I have put you back in nappies

22nd Monday
You fell asleep in your pushchair on the way home from Kate and Indie’s and when you woke up I said we could go ‘up the attic’ as you call it, but I wanted to start the meal first, in the end I was preparing bean/vegemince stew etc for almost an hour – with you regularly insisting in a whining voice about going up the attic. In the end I found you some card to cut and you sat on the landing ‘You wait for me’ you said, meaning you were waiting for me, but then it all started going wrong, as I heard a huge thud, and discovered you had removed our safe door and gone up the ladder, only to chuck a basket of stuff downstairs.

I wasn’t bothered about the throwing, more that you had been there on your own. You did it a second time, even after I told you in a very stern voice that you were only allowed up there with me or Daddy. Anyway, the rest of the time I ended up screaming at you as I was being driven mad by your whining request. You were crying and saying ‘Papa home’ – meaning you had thoroughly had enough of me.

Eventually I went up with you and we had such a lovely time, you showed me the horse that Papa was making for you out of driftwood, and asked me which was the sculpture I had made (we had laid out driftwood sculptures/animations on the carpet a few weeks ago). You said ‘look tools’ and proudly showed me all Daddy ‘s new wrenches and pliers he bought as some bargain offer at the weekend when you went to B&Q together. Yes you are becoming a real boy.

I have spent so much of the summer talking about you and me to different people, how I am finding it really hard to know what to do about your behaviour which I don’t like , and want to discourage And too often I end up losing control and becoming momentarily mad. You are being a normal 3 year old, it is me that needs to sort out my behaviour. It feels that I am failing you in those moments.

I have never felt comfortable with the behaviourist approach of rewards and punishment which feels too much like pet training, but I never understood why it doesn’t seem a good idea. I have had many conversations about it with Kate, mainly, who helps me see sanity and inspires me with knowledge and growing awareness of how I would like to be with you. (She has leant me a radical and inspiring book by a psychologist called Unconditional Parentlng, which explains why the behaviourist approach is counterproductive and damaging in the long term. We have a society of over-controlled toddlers/children, then wonder why they all go mad in their teenage years).

But in focusing on all this, I am neglecting to write about the great moments, and your wonderful articulate conversations. Or what you are into:

*Boats – in a big way – building them out of your blocks, turning the cardboard box into a huge boat, which you like to pile toys into. I have had to remove some of your toys for a while, as they are not taking too kindly to being thrown about (to save them from being wrecked).

*Putting on loads of layers - about 5 long sleeved t-shirts at a time, possibly over a cardigan. Dressing yourself most of the time, except when you don’t feel like it.

*You chat to me when I am driving, and when you saw a concrete mixer the other day said ‘look, a compote’, then today it was called a composter mixer, but afterwards you corrected yourself and said concrete.

*Sitting on the towel when we are getting ready for bed – tonight I pulled you around the carpets upstairs on it. ‘Sailor’ you called your boat.

*Surprising me with new words ‘ I am sitting in this direction’ is how you described your place on the station bench today.

A recent conversation:

‘Mia has a little bottom
you have got a big bottom
what about you? – I ask you
I have got a little bottom
Daddy’s got a wiilly
I’ve got a willy
You’ve got a giant (vagina) and a pubes’


Yesterday when I had closed the kitchen door, to be alone clearing up lunch, after you had done your usual wiping hands all over the table etc, you peered through the glass at me grinning. I opened the door a few minutes later, and you said sorry in a sheepish way. I asked what for and you added ‘wiping’. I was surprised, because I have very rarely asked you to say sorry, but it was quite sweet that you said it.

Your legs are covered in bruises at the moment, I don’t; know how you get so many, but you did slip off the lower stairs recently, and banged your head on the radiator. After crying for half a minute, you stopped and asked for ‘a tablet ‘, with a cheeky smile! One time in the middle of crying you said ‘2 tablets’, and I said ‘no, one’ – you made me laugh that you were still trying to negotiate with me in the middle of a minor trauma!

28th Sunday - a long and perfect day – we seemed to have lots of extra hours because of the clocks changing. Though you came in to our bed at about 5.45 (which was now 4.45). you spent many hours of the weekend making driftwood sculptures in the attic with Papa, marred only by a boisterous incident where you flung a wrench at him. I did furious tidying, which didn’t seem to indent on the amount of sorting that needs doing, and we made it to the RWA open show – with you dropping off in the car again.

29th Monday
I get stopped mid flow, then can’t remember what I ‘ve been writing.
Friday last, I had a wonderful day with you, so calm and full of interesting interactions and conversations. These last 10 days have been good, I have tried to do less, it has been the holidays, and not surprisingly, when I focus my attention on you for longer or more often through the day, you are really responsive. As soon as I have finished breakfast, you often say to me ’take your apron off’ (and my ‘cooking slippers’), ‘play with me’, beckoning with your funny downwards hand gesture. We build boats in your tunnel (under the stairs). On Friday you cut up pieces of card, tiny shards all scattered over the dining room carpet, and amazingly later in the day said ‘let’s tidy up’.

I began cooking – making a veg/chicken risotto thing, and you immediately came – ‘I want to help’ you say, to whatever I am doing. I let you peel the ‘nice squash butter…nut’ as you called it. I was just admiring your dexterity with a new French peeler, when you peeled a small chunk off your thumb. So there was a bit of distraction for a while as I got you a plaster. The neighbour’s children came round, and you got very upset and possessive about your Fisher Price karaoke/tape machine ( a charity shop find), which they particularly wanted. You cried and didn’t want to play or share, and seemed quite under the weather still. You perked up when it was just us two.

That day we also danced to music ‘ it’s the bears song’, you called into the kitchen. (The Teddy Bear’s Picnic, recorded in the 30s in clipped tones. And I sat and read you a story on the bean bags. Late in the afternoon I persuaded you to come out to the local shops (St Marks Rd), and you were so tired, you fell asleep. I finally made it to the Health Centre to put up some Tatty Bumpkin posters. Just an ordinary day, but it felt so lovely, like things between us have changed or moved on.

Today – a glorious autumn day, we managed to get dressed and leave the house in about 15 minutes, plus make a quick sandwich, to get the train to Clifton Down. You patiently came to the shops with me, buying cake tins and vitamins, before setting off on a new route off Whiteladies Rd to the zoo. Although excited about going to the zoo, you were more excited about going to see Sol later in the day, so by the time we arrived, you were complaining that you wanted to leave and see your much adored cousin. But you were soon distracted by following other children face down the slide shute.

30th Weds 6.30am
Memories of yesterday: Lying on the bed this morning reading Oxford Book of Nursery Rhymes to you – a farmer went riding upon his grey mare, bumpety bumpety bump, and other old fashioned but pleasing rhymes to us both.
Walking to St G park,watching workmen make drill holes in the tennis court, chat to local mothers we met while you played with sticks and kicked leaves. To the shops to buy cake ingredients. Halloween party in St A park with Sol and Louis, you running around – experiencing a bit of benign neglect –playing with leaves and jostling round the older boys, in the playground in the dark A happy day, Your funny little turns – wanting to take your hairband out after the bath, not wanting to leave the car after coming home, not wanting to go the the park /playground… I just walk away sometimes when you sit and cry, especially if in a hurry, your moods flit over you like clouds across the sun

Must go, my porridge is burning – you up at 6.30 to ask ‘did you make a cake – can I see it?’ (your raisin birthday cake for Saturday).