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.