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.