Late summer, 1995
During a telephone conversation Christopher announced that Rebecca and he would move together sometime in the autumn. He said they wanted to get married and have children. What good news!
During a telephone conversation Christopher announced that Rebecca and he would move together sometime in the autumn. He said they wanted to get married and have children. What good news!
Did we have any space for Christopher's settee?
Sue and Ollie helped with the clearing of the flat. The settee finished up in Sue's sitting-room, mother's old gas cooker in Sue's hall. Karen had the washing-machine.
Rebecca and Chris arrived on Friday evening. There was a certain expectation in the air. (Chris put a bottle of champagne in the fridge.) I was expecting them to tell us their wedding date. Next morning, as Chris was making a cup of tea in the kitchen to take up, he told me that Rebecca is pregnant. I was delighted, though surprised. As the date had only just been confirmed I urged some caution. But the prospect of being grandparents and having a grandchild with such international roots was a great joy to both of us.
We met up at Sue's. Christopher and Rebecca prepared a wonderful supper: smoked salmon with Rösti, spinach salad, soda bread, lovely wine. After the presents we looked at some old colour slides. I had had copies made of various slides of Christopher and Sue as babies/children – mainly of Chris – and put them in an album for him. He was delighted.
Unfortunately Rebecca was not very well and had to stay in bed on Christmas day. We went for a walk in Kensington Gardens. Then we called in at their flat, which we had not yet seen, and had some tea, so that Christopher could look after Rebecca and make a drink for her.
Both Christopher and Rebecca had a very bad strain of flu. They went to Cambridge but had to stay in bed while they were there. It took them a long time to get over it.
Christopher phoned to tell me that both of them had been to the hospital for Rebecca to have her first scan. Christopher was very excited to have heard the heartbeat and wanted to let me know about it.
Went to have a meal with Christopher and Rebecca. As always, it was very enjoyable. It feels good to be with them. Rebecca showed us her photo album of Prague, and we decided to go on the tram to find her flat during our stay in Prague (Hotel Europa where they stayed.)
Both of them talked excitedly about the first scan and showed us the photo of the baby. It was just possible to discern it. Wonderful!
On Christmas Day, when we had visited the flat, Sue had spied a book of names and asked Christopher whether they had decided on a name. To Sue's and my horror/amusement/disbelief he said, 'Otto!' – or Hanna. I felt Otto was good. Later Christopher asked us which names we liked, by then Samuel was the most promising. (I also liked Isaac, Benjamin, Lucas, Christian.)
Christopher phoned to tell us that they had been for the second scan (20 weeks). He was very excited. Apparently they had seen the baby quite clearly. Its heart was beating, it was of normal size, they saw it grab its feet and the doctor reported that its bladder was full! In fact they knew its sex! Did I want to know? Of course, I said, if you know it? – Well, it's a boy! 'It feels so strange', Christopher said, 'we've been calling him Otto!' He admitted that they had thought it would be a girl, as I had.
Christopher phoned again, how did I feel about having a grandson? I said that I felt very happy about it. It would be nice for Rebecca's family to have a boy, I felt. He said he felt a bit concerned. What if he had to take him to football matches? I didn't think that would be a problem somehow. Dad never took him because he didn't want to go!
Christopher asked me how we felt at this stage when we had Sue. I told him, being much younger (we were 25) and inexperienced we took things on a day-to-day basis, without too much reflection, on my part, anyway. I told him that they were very lucky being almost ten years older and able to stand back a little. Hopefully, they would not get too concerned and would be able to leave their children more space. I asked whether, in fact, they would like more than one child. Christopher replied two or three, if possible, depending on circumstances.
I told him how pleased I was that we were all being so closely involved and informed because I do appreciate that very much. It was at that point that he asked us to think about a name.
When I was in Germany while Trevor was in America (20 February – 6 March) I told Onkel Otto and Tante Hanna that their names were, so far, favourites. I could see that they were both delighted. (Both are my god-parents, therefore I am called Heidi Hanna. Heidi, after Heidi Bebersdorf, Tante Hanna's best friend at the 'Höhere Töchterschule' school for Higher Daughters! – a kind of finishing/housekeeping school.)
Rebecca and Christopher came out for Easter. Rebecca felt well and looked a little pregnant. I felt her stomach several times to feel the baby kicking.
They both liked my vase of birch branches with coloured Easter eggshells, suspended from fine thread. Rebecca proved expert at blowing out eggs. They both produced one painted egg each – Rebecca's delicate and detailed, Christopher's in bold coloured sections. 'The easy way out!' as he said. We went to have a lovely meal at the 'Angel' in Stoke-by-Nayland on Sunday evening.
Preparations are afoot for the wedding! Only the closest family will be invited, plus Matthias and Rebecca's friend, and we are to have supper in their flat after the ceremony. It sounds lovely!! (There will be a larger gathering next summer.)
The wedding is to be at the registry office at Westminster on the 5 June – one week after Trevor's retirement. Rebecca's mum is getting a caterer to provide the food but I am supposed to bake a Schwarzwälderkirschtorte – or two?
Christopher told me about the first antenatal class they attended. They were joking beforehand that it would probably be a 'loose cushion' affair – 'hullo, I'm Sally' etc. Apparently it was! But Christopher said it got less embarrassing as time went on. I'm sure, it's going to be very useful, especially if husbands are there too. I don't remember any husbands at my antenatal classes but met a lady from that class the other day in Chelmsford. She is a white-haired grandmother now. Even then we did appreciate the classes.
The wedding is off again! Both Rebecca and Christopher feel that they would like to have a larger circle of guests. Rebecca feels too tired and big to enjoy it and celebration next year will have been taken away to a large extent. Rebecca's father has offered Clare College as a venue but they'll think about that. We don't mind – the main thing is the commitment to a life together which can be celebrated at any time and in many ways. I look forward to it, whenever it is!
Christopher phoned to tell us that they had both been to the 3rd scan the day before. He marvelled at the fact that one could see the baby so clearly: moving, in profile, or seemingly looking at them. The baby is big and looks healthy.
Trevor received a birthday card signed by Christopher, Rebecca and Forty ❤️!
They came out with Sue on the 22 (Saturday) to celebrate Trevor's birthday, bringing a Barbecue set. We had delicious lamb kebabs and grilled peppers etc., all cooked by Rebecca and prepared by Chris. Sue & Trevor set up and lit the new barbecue. Sue had also bought lots of candles for the garden. We inaugurated our new table and chairs on the lower terrace and had a very enjoyable meal.
On the 6 July (8 pm) at Rebecca & Christopher's flat we had the first meeting of the two families. Rebecca's parents, sister and 2 cousins (one with wife and children, Alexander & Leah) and her aunt, Thelma. Matthias Fricke helped to reinforce our side!
It was a very happy occasion. Rebecca looked beautiful as always, though a little tired and quite big now. She says she feels like an elephant at times.
I have just had a long telephone conversation with Christopher who was ironing! It makes me proud that he can do it – and like me, he enjoys it and finds cooking very creative.
We went up to Sue's for 4:30 pm yesterday to have a cup of tea. She wrapped Christopher's birthday presents up. Then she drove us to 1, Sterndale Rd. to have a meal and celebrate Christopher's birthday. Unfortunately Rebecca had been sick during the night and felt nauseous. She got up later but couldn't keep any food down. Chris cooked us a lovely risotto. As always, it felt nice to be in their beautiful flat. I had brought some old photographs of Sue & Chris as babies and some of their baby clothes, some fur gloves, little booties and a bit of Trevor's. We admired the new carry cot and Forty's wardrobe full of clothes!
Rebecca seems a little better today but Christopher is anxious.
On Saturday morning (17th) when your grandfather and I were still talking non-stop about the unusual 6 days I had had with my 'sisters', I said at one point, 'I'm sure we'll have to go to London very soon now.' Your father phoned in the course of the day and confirmed that they thought you would be born at the week-end.
We had gone to bed quite early when the phone went at about 10 pm. It was your father. He was elated: at last there were signs of your impending arrival. Once the contractions came every 5 minutes they were to go to the hospital. We wished them both well and went to sleep, happy but concerned and thinking that you might be born at midday. I remember dreaming very briefly that you were born and weighed 4 ½ lbs which made me feel relieved thinking about your mother but also a little worried because you would be tiny.
At 8 am the phone rang to wake us up. Your tired but very relieved father announced that you had arrived at 2:21 am (they went into hospital at 11 pm) following a very concentrated and short labour. He said that at one point he had feared for your life and was full of admiration for your mother.
So, you 'saw the light of the world' – a German idiom for being born: das Licht der Welt erblicken – on a Sunday and are therefore a Sunday child, Sam!
I remember our headmaster in the little village school in Steinkirch telling us about the special gifts of a Sunday child (ein Sonntagskind). I was always very envious because he assured us that such children can understand what animals say to each other and they can hear the flowers talk.
Your father is a Sunday child too!
I talked to him for a very long time on the phone that morning. How thrilled he was that all had gone well in the end and how moved by the whole experience of your birth! I treasure that telephone conversation as one of the special moments in my life.
Your mum and you came out of hospital at midday. Very soon your mum's parents came to see you. We set off by car from Boreham to be with you sometime after 6 pm.
When we rang the bell your mum came to the door fully dressed. We were amazed not to find her in bed. In the bed-room at No. 1, Sterndale Rd., London W14, your father was sitting on the settee holding you in his arms as if he had been a father for years. And you looked very secure and peaceful, very, very sweet and tiny, though you weighed 7lbs 4oz which is quite big for a baby.
Immediately your mum wanted to know who I thought you looked like, 'because', she said, 'my mum says he doesn't look like any of our family.' You reminded me of my father, and I fancied seeing similarities with Fried-Rainer, the son of my cousin, Inge Cordilla, who has certain similarities with my father in looks and character. Then we decided that you looked like your Dad in the photo where I hold him (Susan stands beside us) and he is about 2 or 3 days old. Later on, when Sue was asked to confirm this she said, 'No, the nose is different!'
(His mother's name was Hanna.)
You were amazingly good during the first days and nights, sleeping between feeds and hardly ever crying.
We came to see you on the Thursday and found that you looked fuller in the face and more like your mum. Your parents looked very tired. They had been up twice during the night and then again at 7 am. You were fed twice before lunch and, as I was going to cook a meal, your grandpa held you for a long time. He was surprised to see how you exercised your hands and feet, and mouth! and stretched yourself. When I held you after lunch you seemed to be very alert to noises, as if you were trying to work out where they came from (there were workmen next door).
The telephone did not disturb you.
After lunch your Mum and Dad tried to have a rest but the midwife came. Your Dad told her that I thought your feet were cold. So she told them to put booties on if it made me happier. But I didn't mind, of course, as long as you were warm enough. You still seemed so tiny and frail!
When you were put into your little basket you slept for 4 hours making little, high squeaking noises occasionally, or breathing out again. You seemed a model baby!
When your mother fed you your father was sitting beside her watching, then he said: "He looks quite 'blissed out' when he comes off the breast!"
They still called you 'Forty' or 'Forti'!
Instead of arriving on Saturday, 10 August, as expected, you decided to avoid the '7 fairies' who in the form of my two sisters, Gertraude and Ute, and my five cousins, Ortrund, Marie-Luise, Gisela, Verena, and Cornelia (Onkel Otto's daughter) were all hoping to see you during their week-long holiday at our house in Boreham (9-16 August).
We all came up to London on Sunday, August 11, and had a tasty buffet lunch at Sue's, laid on by your grandfather and Aunt Sue. Your father had baked an Italian polenta cake which was very popular. To me it was a unique occasion. We sat in a big circle in the sitting-room, your mother and father on the settee in the place of honour. At one point your aunt, Gertraude, sang a cradle song to you: 'Schlaf mein Kind, ich will Dich wiegen', and we all followed this by singing an evening 'Kanon' in 4 parts: 'Ruhet nach des Tages Müh', which we had revived the night before during one of our singing sessions and journeys into our childhood and youth. Your mother reported that you started moving around although you had been quiet before. In fact I noticed, when you were just 4 days old, how attentively you listened to all the different noises reaching you.
Understandably, your mum was very tired of waiting by then and your Dad appeared anxious.
We came to see you again on Sunday 15 September (I had been on 2 previous occasions when I cooked the lunch and Auntie Sue came to join us). You were 4 weeks old. We saw you and your parents coming along Sterndale Road as we approached the flat. Apparently a lady had just told your parents that you are the most beautiful baby she has ever seen! They were delighted.
We noticed quite a big difference again in your size and looks. You have outgrown the first size baby clothes, but are probably even sweeter than before!!
In the afternoon we went for a walk in Holland Park in the beautiful autumn sun. I was privileged to push the pram. You have a very expressive face and pull very funny faces at times!
Unfortunately you developed the '3 months colic' when you were 2 weeks old. Now you are often in pain and cry, particularly in the late afternoon and evening.
I spoke to Tante Ute on the phone yesterday whose grandson, Milan, also had the same trouble. His mother, Karen, said she would buy a baby hammock. Apparently it starts rocking as soon as the baby moves. Rocking seems the only comforting activity. Your father danced around with you quite wildly on Sunday when you cried. Tante Ute gave you a toy elephant which plays Schlaf Kindlein, schlaf ('Sleep, baby, sleep') when one pulls his trunk. Apparently you listen to that a lot – or your parents put on a CD – to help calm you down.
Your dad told me on the phone yesterday that you smiled at him for the first time the other day. He said, 'He's smiled before but this time he really looked at me and smiled!'
Today you are 7 weeks old, Sam. Congratulations! You now weigh 11lbs 4oz and look quite chubby. You looked very different when we came to see you on Friday. Your face had changed and seemed to resemble your grandmother or mother. Your mum has decided that you are not suffering from the '3 months colic', but you are still fractious in the late afternoons or evenings, though very good on the whole. Apparently you slept through from midnight to seven the other night, though reverted to waking up at about 4 am.
When we arrived at 12 pm on Friday your mum & dad were ready to go to mum's therapist for a session but you hadn't woken up and therefore not had a feed. They came back at 2:30 pm, your dad very frustrated because you had cried the whole time while he was looking after you and he hadn't been able to feed you. Instead, he drive you around in the car which makes you quiet normally but it didn't do the trick. Your mum suggested that she might have to drop her sessions.
After lunch Auntie Sue changed your nappy and then your Mum, Sue and I crouched on the carpet around you while you kicked your feet and 'boxed' with your arms. You were very animated and happy. When I talked to you you seemed to want to reply: your lips looked as if they are forming words. I look forward to the time when you can talk to me, Sam. Later you smiled at me several times.
Yesterday you came to our house for the first time. Your mum & dad had taken you to Southwold for the week-end to a B&B. Unfortunately it rained a lot yesterday and was very windy. So, instead of going for a walk, they took you to the 'Angel' at Stoke-by-Nayland where you lay on the settee and quite a lot of people made a fuss of you.
Then you all came here, arriving shortly before 5 pm. Your mum still looks very tired and your dad said that he felt very tired although you had been good, but you woke them up several times during the night. You looked much taller and very sweet in a white, hooded jump-suit with red and blue edging. This time you smiled at me a lot when I talked to you and again you seemed to try to reply to my talks.
It is such a joy to have such a sweet little grandson!
This was your first week-end with us in Boreham, Sam. When the bell rang on Friday evening at about 9 pm your mum stood there holding you. You were wearing the most adorable light-brown velvet cap which peaked in a little figure: the head of a deer or reindeer. Your doting father could not resist buying it, she said. I guessed: 'Paul Smith?' - 'Yes, unfortunately!'
We had a lovely week-end. I was so thrilled to see your parents spending a lot of time just lying next to you on the carpet or in bed, 'talking' to you, making you smile, touching your nose etc. Your dad was proud of your 'considerable vocabulary'. One particular sound being 'ookree', the other 'eggue'.
At one point he felt sure that you could almost turn over to your right side. He helped you by holding your left arm high up, pinned to the carpet. You would kick around, boxed with your other arm and finally swing yourself over – almost! The funny thing was that you really seemed keen to practice this because you kept trying several times.
Next morning in bed your dad and you were at it again. 'It will give him so much confidence,' he said. 'It's like having learnt to ride a bike.'
You certainly have a very proud and loving dad – and your mum never loses her temper. She speaks to you so sweetly all the time, even if you go on crying. I told her she has my full admiration.
Your grandpa and I were able to look after you for several hours each morning while your parents had a longer rest in bed – we enjoyed that and you were very good.
In the course of one of our telephone conversations your Dad said to me: "I have the feeling you are holding yourself back, mum. If you want to come up and play with Sam sometime, don't hesitate. Just phone and tell us." I thought that was very nice of your dad, and I arranged to come and play with you on Thursday, 12 December. It so happened that your mum was just trying to feed you with the first few spoonfuls of banana-rice. You sat in your little baby chair, wearing your German great-grandma's beautiful bib and your mum held an eggspoon with banana-rice to your mouth. You didn't know what to make of this, put out your tongue to feel the eggspoon and engagedly in long explanations about what this whole experience meant for you. Unfortunately we weren't able to understand what you were saying! You seemed quite happy about it all and didn't grimace at the taste of the banana-rice but you had no idea how to eat it off the spoon. In the end your mum put some on her finger which you seemed to relate to much more readily.
Your dad came home early that afternoon and played with you on the carpet. You were full of smiles and I was able to take quite a few photographs.
Your grandpa and I called in when your other grandparents had just arrived too. We were a little early although we had been to pick up the restored barometer of your great-grandmother and then carried it all the way up to Harrods where I had reserved a 'baby-bouncer' by phone. The streets were all crowded with Xmas shoppers. I told the lady, she handed me the large box with the baby bouncer, that we were already carrying a heavy barometer plus our lunch – a lovely pork dish which your grandpa had prepared. She was quite amused and concerned for us.
When we told your parents that we had managed to get a baby bouncer, they were rather dismayed. 'Oh dear, we forgot to tell you that Sue bought one yesterday!' And your grandparents from Cambridge said: 'We were just going to buy one!' In the end they kept ours and exchanged the other one from Aunt Sue's. We stayed after lunch until it was time to go to the Wigmore Hall for a Xmas concert (actually we went to hear a Lieder recital in the afternoon first).
We were a little late getting away from Boreham because your grandpa had to reassemble the chicken mobile I had made for you (5 chickens, 1 large cock with a heavy tail). I spent much longer than intended wrapping up Xmas presents, a task I normally hate because I'm too impatient but I tried to wrap them all this year. When we arrived at Lillie Rd. your aunt Sue was just cycling past. She had come home from work and then gone shopping again. It was bitterly cold. We carried everything upstairs. Then I started laying the table and getting everything ready while Sue wrapped her presents and grandpa was engaged in a long telephone conversation with his aunt Marjorie, who is 92. Whenever he said: 'Well, have a nice time' or something like that she would start on a different topic.
Your dad phoned to say you would arrive late. So it was about 7 pm when they came in carrying you and whispering you were asleep and meant to stay that way, so that we could enjoy our meal. Occasionally you would cry as if slightly hurt that they had left you, then get more impatient. Either your mum or dad disappeared for a while to calm you, rock you or feed you. You were brought in and later to see the Xmas tree but you looked tired and wanted to sleep.
Grandpa had taken up the new keyboard. He played some carols and also nursery rhymes very quietly, but we'll have to wait a little before you can really enjoy those.
The next morning we tidied up the kitchen and washed up everything. Sue had gone to work at 8 am. Then we drove over to Sterndale Road to have a cup of tea with your parents. You were lying on the carpet next to your mum who was wrapping presents for everyone in Cambridge. You loved the sound of the tissue paper she was using. Once or twice you managed to turn onto your right side and had to be helped back again.
You had a preview of your soft train set (sewn from brightly coloured material) and were somewhat surprised by the bubbles which your mum blew, also as a preview. But you coped with it all and appeared very interested. Meanwhile your dad was baking a delicious pear-and-almond cake for Cambridge, like the one he had brought for our meal the evening before.
Your dad phoned to wish us a happy 1997 and reported that you were particularly sweet that morning. Apparently you had discovered the sound 'aga'. So when your dad said 'aga' back to you, you also replied by 'agaga!'. Apart from that your parents have discovered the outline of a first little tooth, or so it seems to them.
We called in at about 4 pm for a cup of tea and brought cakes from Maison Blanc. You seemed a little shy but demonstrated what your dad had told me. When he said 'aga, aga' quite loudly somewhere behind you you suddenly replied clearly: 'Aga!'
I went up yesterday, although Essex resembled Siberia, to bring 6 sheets I had sewn from old sheets for your cot and the woollen blanket Chris & Sue had as babies, even one belonging first to your grandpa. You had one red cheek, where the tooth is coming through, and were in a very good mood. You were sitting in the little rocking chair which your mum had put on the table and rocked a little. At one point you arched yourself up really high, so your mum decided that you would be better on the floor in future, possibly you turned over on your stomach, but you turned over on your right side quite readily now, once even raised your head from the floor. You 'talked' and gave little delighted shrieks. I was pleased to see that you seemed to like lying in your cot. (When I got to Liverpool Street Station it was crowded with waiting passengers. I had to stand in a very full train, the 18:18 – it was just after 7 pm – which finally arrived in Ch. at 9 pm!) There had been no snow in London.
You spoke to me on the phone today, Sam! Your Dad put the receiver next to you and you made quite a long speech.
At the moment you are sleeping on the cot mattress in your parents' bedroom. I think they can't bring themselves to let you go into your little bedroom. They want to introduce to you the big cot and a separate room gradually.
When you all came out to Boreham for the week-end we noticed that you are very aware of different people. You are happy with us, smiled and 'talked' but always looked round to see whether your Mum or Dad was nearby. We felt you would not have been too happy with us on your own. On this occasion you were supposed to sleep in your Dad's old cot for the first time and your parents in the new, long bed we bought for them. But when I enquired in the morning your parents had kept you in the big bed again all night.
On Saturday evening you were lying on the carpet by the fire, kicking happily and talking. For a while everyone watched you, then your Dad who was sitting on the cushion beside the fireplace, spoke for quite a long time about something and we all looked at him. Suddenly you started to sob and cry very loudly. We could only think that you must have been upset about losing our attention.
I came up to look after you because your mum was going to the dentist. (We postponed that because she had a cold.) You were lying on the big bed when I arrived and as your mum was on the phone I peeped round the door. You smiled at me straight away and 'talked'. I noticed how you are quite happy on your own, turning round on your side, look at your fingers in delight or a long string of sounds, or you look up at the ceiling or into a corner and see something that fascinates you, again you start to talk loudly to yourself.
In the evening grandpa joined us, then your dad came home and we had a delicious meal together.
Your mum is very tired. She had gastric flu about 2 weeks ago and feels worn out with disturbed nights. She has a feeling that you need more solids, i.e. more calories, and would like to help you to get back to sleep of your own accord when you wake up in the night. At least the evenings have been better lately, but you wake up 3 or 4 times at night.
Apparently you'll have to see a specialist because of your eczema.
Again, your Mum had a dental appointment. Very happy day spent with you. I took you for a walk and helped to bath you in the big bath. You looked very serious – apparently you always do when you have a bath – but you didn't cry either.
Mum had to have her first dental treatment, a filling 1mm from the nerve! All went well though. Auntie Sue came and we all discussed the wedding: what to wear, whether to have a seating order, a photographer, a cake...
Then your mum said: 'Come and watch how I bath Sam now.' When we came in you were lying in the water, with some bubble bath, covered almost up to your cheeks, i.e. your ears were under water. I was quite alarmed because I had the feeling it must be uncomfortable (I hate having my ears under water), but your mum assured us that you didn't seem to mind. Again you looked very earnest, but after quite a while you started kicking vigorously and arching your back as you do 'on land'.
You also had a session in the baby bouncer and jumped about delightedly, and Auntie Sue & I took you shopping at Tesco's.
You have been in your cot for about a week and a half now. Apparently things are much better. Your mum told me last week how lovely it was to spend the evening watching TV in their bedroom while you were asleep in your little room next door.
On Friday at about 5 pm your family came out to see us, after having had to postpone a visit several times after Easter because you, but above all your Dad, had a viral infection. It was, as always, a joy to see you Sam. You can sit up on your own now, protected by a big, almost circular, cushion.
So you sat on the carpet in front of the fire with lots of toys to play with: a little phone which gives different calls, depending on the button you press, a little piano, a rattle and so on. You bang on everything without being very focused and your favourites are a light green plastic box which houses special little paper cloths to wipe your face and an ointment container, also an old remote control which you chew.
You scrutinized us very carefully and always made sure that your mum was around. On Sunday morning we wanted to go for a quick walk. So your coat and hat was put on and you were strapped into the new rucksacklike carrier. However, you cried bitterly and we abandoned the walk as it was quite chilly and late. Your dad feels sure you will soon love the carrier and pull his hair.
We – Grandpa, Großmutti, Tante Ute, and Tante Gertraude and I – had come to Cambridge by minibus and walked along the 'backs' up to the townhall. Outside the registry office a crowd was beginning to gather. It was almost noon. Your auntie, Susan, hailed me from afar. She was pushing you in the pram and didn't want me to speak to you in case you started to cry. She had offered, very generously, to look after you so that your mum & dad could relax during the wedding ceremony. This was a great help because it was a lengthy ceremony and quite nerve-wrecking for your parents who appeared, at first, fairly flustered. (I learnt later that your dad had dropped your grandmother's iron when he wanted to iron something and had to go into town to buy a new one. Your mum said she got ready in about 10 mins.) The ceremony became more and more solemn and developed its own integrity. I was moved to tears in the end. Your mum looked very beautiful and vulnerable, your dad handsome and gradually more relaxed.
Later at the Fen Ditton Hall we were able to admire your new suit from Gap; white and blue striped, with a little hat, very fetching! You were very good on the day, considering all the strangers who spoke to your parents, some wanting to hold you. At times you slept, blissfully unaware of your surroundings, huddled in your pushchair but you also cried and no-one but your mum could console you.
In the course of the week-end we also discussed education. Your mum & dad are like us when Sue & Chris were young: not too worried because they don't know yet how difficult and bad it can be.
So I am writing this letter – after the Labour Party came to power – I too am more hopeful that you might stand a better chance in a state school in a few years time. Let's hope schools improve!
From the 17 April to the 13 May we went on a long round trip to Germany and celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary on the 25 April in Göttingen. We had a lovely, very stimulating time, seeing about 17 different families or individuals and staying in 7 different places with relatives or friends.
Even before we went I had come up to London once or twice on a Thursday Sam, while your mum went to her therapy session.
I continued this after our return. – On the first occasion your mum took us in the car and I walked around with you in the area while she went in to see the therapist. I managed to rock you to sleep in the pushchair, so you didn't mind or know that she had gone. On other, subsequent occasions your mum would get your lunch ready and I fed you and later took you for a walk. On the whole you are quite happy but about 2 weeks before the wedding you became more aware of the fact that your mum had left and cried for a while after you woke up, only stopping if I walked around with you, sang to you or let you look into the mirror. When she arrived and rang the bell, I took you to the sitting-room window because I thought it would make you happy to see her. Instead you cried bitterly and sobbed until she fed you and all was well again. You are on the point of crawling now but either get one of your legs stuck and folded under you or you flop on your tummy after rocking to and fro as if for take-off. If you want your mum or dad to pick you up you stretch your arms up and bounce in a sitting position, making noises to indicate your wish. But on the whole you don't seem to me to 'talk' as much now. You can, however, clap your hands and wave, also you make funny noises placing the back of your hand over your mouth and lifting it at short intervals.
You grew so much during this month! You learnt to crawl, Sam, just before going on your parents' honeymoon (7 - 17 June) to Tuscany near Siena. Also, your two bottom front teeth came through at about that time.
At the moment you love to play with the telephone, pens, cups – in general, whatever is not part of your vast array of toys. You always want to be where the action is: on your mum's lap or in your high chair, rather than on the carpet.
It has been quite a while since I wrote, as much has happened and I have been so busy! Since the 7th of July, I have been up to London to look after you ten times.
On the 31st of July, your mum started a part-time job as a consultant (about a 10-minute walk from your flat) three times a week. On Thursdays she has to be there at 9:30 am, so I leave our house in Boreham at 7:15 am in order to get to your flat by 8:45 am.
One of those days we had a real adventure: there was a problem with the overhead railway wires near Ingatestone, and we all had to wait at the station in Chelmsford for an hour. On the way back another day, there was a bomb scare at Liverpool Street Station, and I had to figure out how to get home since the Underground was closed and the escalators at Bank were being repaired. Fortunately, the trains ran normally again just as we arrived.
We celebrated your dad's birthday on the 31st of July. Grandpa came up and joined us at 4 o'clock, then Auntie Sue arrived at 5 pm. You seemed delighted to see everyone. For about five weeks now, you have been able to "name" your various toys by retrieving them when asked. It started when your dad was looking for a toy and asked, "Where is badger?" Without hesitating, you crawled across the carpet, found the badger, and brought him over. Now we play this game constantly with your ball, pig, and even a lime seed!
You can also stand up and take a few tentative steps along the settee. When your mum says, "Where is Grandma?", you smile and point directly at me with your little index finger as if to say, "That's easy!"
Usually, you cry and cling to your mum when she says goodbye, but I pick you up immediately and we distract you by kicking a ball around or rummaging through my handbag.
On the 14th of August, we had a particularly lovely day. You ate a big lunch and slept well. While we were sitting on the carpet, you crawled up close to me, smiled impishly, and put your head on my neck. Then you leaned in and gave me a big, very wet kiss right on my nose! It was so unexpected and sweet; I felt incredibly touched. Later on, you did the same to your mum.
We celebrated your first birthday on Monday, the 18th of August. Both sets of grandparents and Auntie Sue came over. It was terribly hot, so we stayed inside with the fan blowing. Because you are currently allergic to eggs, I baked egg-free German yeast cakes – one with plums, and one with a streusel topping from which I cut a heart-shaped piece. You loved blowing out the tiny candle, and then you grabbed a handful of cake and ate it with great relish! Afterward, you stood up on your own and held both arms triumphantly in the air as if to say: "Just look, all of you! I can stand!"
It's a long time since I wrote last although much has happened but I have been too busy! Since the 7 July I've been up to London to look after you, Sam, 10 times!
On the 31 July your mum started a part-time job as a consultant (about 10 mins. walk) 3 times a week. On Thursday she has to be there at 9:30, so I leave the house at 7:15 in order to get to your flat at about 8:45. (The other day there was a problem with overhead wires somewhere near Ingatestone and we all had to wait at the station in Chelmsford for an hour. Coming back one day there was a bomb scare at Liverpool Street Station and I was trying to work out how to get there, as the Underground was not going to stop and escalators were being repaired at Bank. Fortunately, everything was alright before our train approached Liverpool Street station. So, I'm never too sure what awaits me. Besides it has been abnormally hot for the last two weeks or so. We are all hoping for rain and cooler weather.)
On the 31 July we celebrated your Dad's birthday. As I was there anyway Grandpa came up later and joined us at 4 o'clock, then Auntie Sue arrived at 5 pm. You seemed quite delighted to see them. You showed off your various skills. For about 5 weeks now you have been able to "name" various toys. It came about like this: Your dad was saying to your mum: "Where is badger?" because he couldn't find your toy. Apparently without hesitating you crawled across the carpet, retrieved badger and brought him to your dad. So they became intrigued and said to you: "Where is your ball? Where is pig? Where is lime? seed? (A kind of avocado seed) etc." and you could either fetch them or point to them. They were very proud and excited at that!
You could also stand up and walk along the settee, walking while you go!
When I was with you one day I said: "Are you going to stand up?" I meant on your little push car which is meant for that, but you crawled quickly to the settee and stood up there. When I arrive in the morning your mum says in a very enthusiastic way: "This is Grandma!" Or sometimes she asks: "Where is Grandma?" and you smile and point to me with your little index finger as if to say: "That's easy!"
Usually you cry and cling to her when she says good-bye but I pick you up at once and we kick one of your balls around the room, or we open my handbag, or something else to distract you and you are quiet within seconds.
Of course it was quite varying at first to be responsible for you for longer periods and have to feed you. I even attempted to change your nappy the other day, which is a great problem these days because you will not lie down. I did it by saying: "Where is your bag with the nappies?" We found it in the bathroom, so you stood up on the bath and played with your toys. I quickly changed the nappies as best I could but got the new one on back to front. Still, at least you didn't cry. Quite often we listen to one of your tapes together and dance around (Chitty bang bang etc), so that you feel at home with me.
We had a particularly good day on the 14 August. You slept well, ate quite a lot for lunch and were happy in the afternoon. You are always busy: throwing your ball, standing up by a chair, putting things into containers, crawling around and 'crowing' delightedly when you have discovered something you had forgotten for a while. I was sitting on the carpet with you and you came up now and then to play with the buttons on my dress. At one point you crawled up close to me and, smiling quite impishly, you put your head on my neck, then suddenly you came closer and gave me a big, very wet kiss almost on my nose. It was so unexpected and so sweet that I felt very touched. Later you did the same with your mum.
Usually, I tell you about quarter of an hour or so before your mum gets back: "Mummy will be coming home soon. She'll come in and she'll say: 'Hello, Minkey!'" Then you point to the door repeatedly. Sometimes we go to the front door but sometimes she just walks in and your face lights up as if the most wonderful thing has happened again (before long you'll know and remember that it does happen each time). Your mum, who finds these partings still quite difficult, is as delighted as you are, and I usually go and make a cup of tea so that you can enjoy each other's company. On the whole you are much happier - i.e. jollier, having fun - when your mum is back. You do your various tricks then, such as playing with her toes, pointing to her nose, placing toys on her head, or standing on your head and pretending you have disappeared. "Where is Minkey?" she'll say and tickle you, then you show your face again.
Various possibilities were debated but in the end we celebrated your first birthday on the day, Monday, the 18 August. Your two sets of grandparents and Auntie Sue were invited. Your dad had a week's holiday, so he was at home. Because it was still unbearably hot we decided against going to Brook Green and kept the fan going to cool us all down a little. You were a little surprised when we started singing: "Happy birthday, dear Sam" but took it all in your stride, even the party hats and the various balloons you kept grabbing and throwing about.
Because you are allergic to egg at the moment, your parents had asked whether I could bake a cake without eggs. I made some German yeast cakes, one with plums which Grandpa arranged expertly, and one with Streusel from which I cut a heart-shaped piece. Dad and I put a tiny candle on it and put it on a plate surrounded by flowers. You loved the candle, then grabbed the cake and started eating it, with evident relish. Later you took a little sausage and tried to eat that but each time you tasted it you shook yourself in horror. Nevertheless, you held on to it as if it were one of your favourite breadsticks! Several times in the course of the afternoon you stood up and held both arms triumphantly into the air as if to say: "Just look, all of you. I can stand!" Even if it's only for 3 seconds. You seemed to enjoy the company. I noticed you going up to Grandpa, who was sitting on the floor by the window.
Auntie Sue gave you a little caterpillar which fits on the index finger because pointing is a favoured means of communication at the moment. You had lots of nice books and toys and we all enjoyed the champagne and talked about last year. We even watched part of the first video and couldn't get over how tiny you were then. It was a lovely occasion.
When I came up to look after you on Thursday you were allowed to have the run of the flat, i.e. the little gate by the steps leading down from the sitting room had been removed. I was amazed how you would crawl to the steps, then stop and turn round to go down on your tummy as you had been taught by your mum and dad. I find it quite amazing that you can do this at the age of one.
In the afternoon, when your mum was back, we wanted to discuss a knitting pattern because I want to knit her a jumper. (I have just finished 2 for your birthday: a little blue and red and multicoloured jacket and a red jumper with a collar and 3 buttons.) You were both in the kitchen, she was feeding you and saying: "Bring your chair in then we can discuss it." You started to get agitated and kept pointing to the sitting room. At first we couldn't think what it was you wanted, but then I said: "Do you want Grandma to go back into the sitting-room?" and when I went back you were satisfied. You really don't like it if grownups talk and take no notice of you!
Various possibilities were debated but in the end we celebrated your first birthday on the day, Monday, the 18 August. Your 2 sets of grandparents and Auntie Sue were invited. Your dad had a week's holiday, so he was at home. Because it was still unbearably hot we decided against going to Brook Green and kept the fan going to cool us all down a little. You were a little surprised when we started singing: "Happy birthday, dear Sam" but took it all in your stride, even the party hats and the various balloons you kept grabbing and throwing about.
Because you are allergic to egg at the moment, your parents had asked whether I could bake a cake without eggs. I made some German yeast cakes, one with plums which Grandpa arranged expertly, and one with Streusel from which I cut a heart-shaped piece. Dad and I put a tiny candle on it and put it on a plate surrounded by flowers. You loved the candle, then grabbed the cake and started eating it, with evident relish. Later you took a little sausage and tried to eat that but each time you tasted it you shook yourself in horror. Nevertheless, you held on to it as if it were one of your favourite breadsticks! Several times in the course of the afternoon you stood up and held both arms triumphantly into the air as if to say: "Just look, all of you. I can stand! Even if it's only for 3 seconds." You seemed to enjoy the company. I noticed you going up to Grandpa, who was sitting on the floor by the window.
Auntie Sue gave you a little caterpillar which fits on the index finger because pointing is a favoured means of communication at the moment. You had lots of nice books and toys and we all enjoyed the champagne and talked about last year. We even watched part of the first video and couldn't get over how tiny you were then. It was a lovely occasion.
When I came up to look after you on Thursday you were allowed to have the run of the flat, i.e. the little gate by the steps leading down from the sitting room had been removed. I was amazed how you would crawl to the steps, then stop and turn round to go down on your tummy as you had been taught by your mum and dad. I find it quite amazing that you can do this at the age of one.
In the afternoon, when your mum was back, we wanted to discuss a knitting pattern because I want to knit her a jumper. (I have just finished 2 for your birthday: a little blue and red and multicoloured jacket and a red jumper with a collar and 3 buttons.) You were both in the kitchen, she was feeding you and saying: "Bring your chair in then we can discuss it." You started to get agitated and kept pointing to the sitting room. At first we couldn't think what it was you wanted, but then I said: "Do you want Grandma to go back into the sitting-room?" and when I went back you were satisfied. You really don't like it if grown-ups talk and take no notice of you!
In mid-September, you developed a bit of colic, which made you quite fractious in the late afternoons. Your father found that dancing around the room with you wildly was the only thing that comforted you! Auntie Ute also gave you a lovely toy elephant that plays a lullaby ("Schlaf, Kindlein, schlaf") when you pull its trunk, which helps soothe you to sleep.
On the 23rd of September, your dad told me that you smiled at him intentionally for the first time. He was so proud!
By early October, you had grown quite chubby and weighed 11 lbs 4 oz. You are sleeping much better now, often from midnight right through until 7 am.
On the 5th of October, Grandpa and I went on a lovely holiday to Scotland and the Lake District, retracing some of the places where we had traveled before we got engaged in 1958. When we came back, we noticed how much you love to compare objects in your picture books to real-life things—like pointing to a toy spider and then finding the spider in your counting book.
Grandpa and I went away on holiday, first to the Lake District with our friends, Pat & Tony, and then to Scotland, where we went on beautiful train journeys to the West coast, up to Ullapool, and then over to Forres, Findhorn and Aviemore. We only took rucksacks and stayed in youth hostels and B&Bs to relive some of our past. (We met at Balmacara and later at Forres, just before we got engaged in 1958/59. So we didn't see you from 8-25 September. Last week I spent 3 days with you while Oma and Opa are on holiday in Turkey.)
At the moment, you seem to delight in finding an object, you know, in one of your many books, and then getting a real one for comparison, i.e. for making clear that you know them. For instance, a lemon or a plum; your toy spider, to be compared with the spiders in the counting book; a ball; a duck and so on. Occasionally, when a car passes on the road you point to the window and make urgent noises: "M, hm, hm". Then you have to be picked up and taken to the window to see what's going on.
You understand an amazing amount and communicate either by shaking your head, pointing to something or crawling up to it. When I say: "Shall we hear some music?" you point to the tape recorder and crawl to it. The other day I put on the tape of German nursery rhymes which we hadn't listened to for a long time. You crawled right up to the loudspeaker under the window and made some noises to make me aware of the instrumental introduction. Or I say: "Shall we go for a walk? Shall we go and see the cat (the birds)?" Again, you either point to the door or the window and then when we see the pigeons walking about on the grass at Brook Green you point to them and seem delighted to have found them.
You crawl around very purposefully now. One can see the strength in your wrists. You stand up a lot, even while holding a ball, and love walking quickly when I hold your hands. We usually talk about Mummy or Mamma coming back in the afternoon, and I say: "Mummy will say: Hello Minkey!" Then you point to the door. When we can hear the key in the door and I say: "That's Mummy!" you look around urgently for your ball or something else, and hold it up to her as a gift, and beam all over. It's such a delight to see you with her. You really feel happy and at ease then, reclining in her lap, smuggling up to her and going through all your tricks, i.e. putting something on her head, hiding behind her, finding the buttons on her dress, standing on your head, looking for her toes or her ear etc.
In fact, you really get animated when someone new comes and you can show all the things you can do, or have. Sue came on Friday evening to babysit, so that your mum & dad could at last go out for a meal to celebrate your mum's birthday (you had all had colds over the past weeks). With the help of your mum, dad and me, we showed her your latest achievements, including finding her ear! Also, when I saw you on Monday you brought all your toys and got very excited.
Last week, I looked after you again on 3 days. On Monday, Grandpa came up to join me in the afternoon because we were going on to a talk by Elena Firsova at the Queen Elizabeth Hall and a performance (premiere) of her 6th chamber concert. You obviously aren't used to Grandpa, as much as to me, so you kept your distance at first. But eventually his stockinged feet were too tempting and you had to crawl up to him and point to them to say: "Grandpa has got feet!"
The latest news is that you can sit on the swing in the playground and enjoy it. At first, when I tried you, you held on to your green ball and couldn't balance but now you have learnt to hold on with both hands. I also tried you on the stainless steel slide, first half way up holding both your arms, and gradually from the top.
You are delighted by it. Next you want to go and sit on the 5 or 6 sturdy wooden rabbits (ducks?, horses) some of which have a big enough seat for me to sit on too. But as soon as we are sitting on one you point to the next. I am longing for you to be able to walk between them and, I'm sure, so are you! Sometimes I hold your hands and you walk on the sand in your socks. You followed a pigeon the other day, so eager to reach it but, of course, it walked away all the time and finally flew off.
Yesterday, two boys with a white football came into the playground. You got quite desperate pointing to it, even crying. Your mum says you love balloons or large balls. (I'll have to take some balloons when I see you on Monday.)
I notice how you have grown-up over the summer. Before, I used to walk along quiet roads so that you would go to sleep, now you get bored if you can't watch cars, motorbikes or buses.
Your mum asked me whether I would like to take you to a playgroup on Monday, a week ago. It's "the Masbro" Community Centre on Monday and Thursday mornings from 10-12 noon. Most of the mothers and fathers, who come with their children, help with putting out all the toys and play gear, such as a slide, a little wooden see-saw having to sit on, a sand table, a table which can be filled with water, 4 easels for painting, dough box and many other toys. It costs £1.20 per child and they appear to be short of money, at least there is a lot of talk of having to raise some.
You are mainly fascinated by a large red ball on our first visit and hung onto it in the face of occasional opposition, i.e. some other child wanting to walk off with it. Yesterday, when we went again, I tried to steer you clear of balls but you had 3 big ones to cope with at one point and my suggestion, of putting them into a little cart and pushing them along, wouldn't do. So far you can't throw them yet, so you can't involve others, like little Nathan, who wanted to start a kind of game. At least you forgot about the balls later and tried to play with other toys. You went into the Wendy house and the telephone box, tried out the various vegetables which all bounced. You always subject anything remotely looking like a ball to a bouncing test. No, the pear I had brought you in the morning was met with a headshake whereas the one Sue brought bounced! So did the orange, being made from plastic.
At 10 o'clock all the children (usually 10-12) sit round a low table. First everyone is counted: One, two, three etc. We sing some nursery rhymes and then some plates appear with pieces of fruit, raisins and little pieces of cheese. You were pleased to receive your share but spat most of it out eventually, eating a few raisins and wanting your neighbour's or his which you liked and having got down once, persuaded to sit at the table again. You are one of the youngest there apart from 2 real babies, of 9 months or so. Later you found the musical toy which you have at home. You press certain parts and it plays a nursery rhyme and you begin to rock to & fro. I could see, how you felt pleased to have found that because you know it so well. Of course you took a dim view of anybody else touching it and looked close to tears at times. It's obviously quite a long learning process to feel comfortable about sharing, and sufficiently sure that others will share too. When I tried to tidy up by carrying some food remnants to the bin across the room you started to cry and call something like "Mama". In the end you didn't want to leave, mainly because you had discovered another red ball. It's a shame that you can't understand yet that it will be there for you again on Thursday.
One of your latest achievements is making animal noises. You are particularly good at growling like a lion which you do frequently when you come across your little toy lion. Yesterday morning when your dad and I were having a cup of tea before your parents had to leave, he told me that you had woken up quite late this morning you were all in bed together and your dad said to your mum, "Well, we have had a lie-in this morning." You responded by starting to growl!
I wonder whether you will grow up to love plants, Sam? At the moment you are delighted with the leaves which lie everywhere on the ground, or you can still see them in the trees when you lean back while sitting on the swing in the playground. I usually have to find a good sycamore leaf for you to hold while sitting in the pram. After a while you point to some others, I pick up one for you and you hand the first one back for me to hold. I noticed, when I let you walk around among the leaves, that you chose the new one solely by virtue of a good long stalk. Whereas I pick up beautiful specimens you go for the most crumpled up sandy one. On Thursday you went into quite a frenzy of delight seeing so many leaves around you at Brook Green. On the swing you pointed up to the trees, as I thought, and responded: "Oh yes, there are lots of leaves up there," but when you persisted I looked up and to my amazement a Zeppelin was floating very slowly across the sky.
You now mention "Mama" on your own and quite frequently in the afternoon, especially when you can hear a car park. But you say it quite confidently, or so it seems to me, not as if you want her but as if to say "she'll come back soon!"
You have started going to "The Masbro" Community Centre playgroup on Monday and Thursday mornings. It is a wonderful space with a slide, a sand table, water play, and easels for painting. You are absolutely fascinated by the large red ball there and spend most of your time guarding it from the other children!
You are also making wonderful animal noises now—especially a very loud growl like a lion whenever you see your toy lion. You also have a very expressive face and make the most amusing expressions when we talk to you.
On Christmas Eve, we stopped by briefly before heading to Auntie Sue's flat where we stayed for the holidays. Grandpa bought you a beautiful little wooden kaleidoscope from the Greenwich Museum. At first, you were more interested in the wrapping paper, but with some encouragement, you finally figured out how to look through it.
On Christmas Day, you all came over to Sue's flat. The sitting-room was candlelit and festive, and we enjoyed a wonderful Italian meal. You loved playing with Sue's Christmas tree decorations, especially some colorful, glittering bells that bounced when dropped!
We gave you a wooden shape-sorter with orange blocks and a big paintbrush with primary colors of paint (since the baby books say children love to paint from 15 months onward). You spent hours rolling around on a beautiful soft eiderdown quilt that Auntie Sue had made for you.
Meanwhile you've grown more accustomed to the Play group. Last Monday you were wearing your new shoes: sturdy, navy blue sandals with lions (i.e. pictures on each front) you proudly showed them to me when I arrived. I had the feeling that you still felt awkward in them and resorted to crawling help, as the floor would have been too cold otherwise. When I took you to Tescos in the afternoon, you rode in triumphantly with raised index finger to make sure I would observe all the overhead Xmas decorations. I noticed that you sang with the music: Xmas carols coming over the loudspeaker. But at the till you wouldn't smile at the friendly assistant, no matter how hard she tried. You always seem cautious and a little alarmed when other people notice you.
On Christmas Eve we came to call on you all briefly before taking our things to Auntie Sue's where we were going to stay over Christmas. I was very eager to see how you would respond to one of your presents, a beautiful little kaleidoscope, which Grandpa had bought for you at the Greenwich Museum on one of his recent visits while I was attending a Symposium at the Inst. of Germanic Studies. You found it hard to unwrap it and almost lost interest. All my encouragements of saying "beepo" which the two of us say when we look through one of the eyes of a wooden horse in the playground did nothing to make you lift the kaleidoscope to your eye. You took it and, yes, it rattled, and finally you subjected it to the bounce test on the kitchen floor, and, no, it didn't bounce. So that, in a way, was that! I shall persist when I see you again. I'm sure you'll be able to use it properly soon. (It took until June!)
You gave me my best Xmas present, Sam, by stretching out your arms and crying when we had to leave a little later because it was your teatime. Your mum reassured you that you would see Grandma again on the next day.
We came back later to a transformed, candlelit and festive sitting-room to have a lovely Italian meal with Auntie Sue and your parents. Your dad and mum had cooked it. Later we exchanged our presents. It was a lovely occasion.
Next morning then you all came over to Auntie Sue's flat we had a late breakfast and then you were allowed to have your other presents from us. But before then you fractured two of the beautiful Christmas decorations from Auntie Sue's tree which shone in great splendour. They were colourful, glittering bells which bounced!
We had bought you some very nice blue squares into which you have to fit orange cut-out shapes: a square, a circle, a triangle etc. You seemed to be able to fit them in quite quickly, but I don't know whether it was a coincidence. The other gift, also from the Montessori Centre, a rabbit puzzle is still too difficult. Apart from that I had bought you a big brush, four primary colours and a block of paper for painting because I read in the Great Ormond Street Baby Book that babies like to paint from 15 months onward. I shall see how you respond when I see you again. Our eiderdown, for which Auntie Sue had sewn a beautiful soft cover with farmhouse scenes, was a definite hit! You loved rolling around on it on the carpet.
Your Dad told me on the phone yesterday that it is a great favourite and that you have been sleeping longer lately. I think you are really most interested in some wrapping paper which had balloons on it! Always balls or balloons – you love them!
After a very late breakfast we all decided that the weather looked more promising so that we could venture out for a walk. You were dressed for outside and put in your pram and had gone to sleep before we had reached the corner of Lilley Road. By then it also started to drizzle but we pushed on. We all had umbrellas, so we went down to the Thames and the flat where your Dad used to live (38A, Rainville Road). It began to pour at that point so that we had to shelter. Got back drenched but you were still sleeping and continued upstairs in Auntie Sue's bedroom.
After a lovely Xmas lunch, cooked mainly by Auntie Sue, you played in the sitting-room and were delighted when Auntie Olly turned up with Bertie, her big, sand coloured dog (Labrador?). Bertie lay on her blanket in the hall to dry out. You kept going up to her to point at her eyes and nose and stroke her. Eventually you lay down more or less on top of her as if she were your big toy elephant! Bertie had to retreat under the kitchen table to get some peace and quiet in the end.
You all went home at about 6 pm or so – again you cried and stretched out your arms to me. I was very touched.
We stayed for a while to talk to Karen, her baby, James and her friend, Christine, who lives in Lyons and loves it. She also loves Venice, so we exchanged experiences there.
We called briefly at 1, Sterndale Rd. before travelling back to Boreham and had a look at you sleeping peacefully under your new eiderdown. You looked "a picture", as Grandpa's mother would have said.
On the 29 December I fell ill with labyrinthitis, as I had done exactly three years ago after Xmas. This time it was much worse, so I couldn't come up during the holidays to look after you for a day while your dad went walking and your mum shopping, as we had planned. It was very frustrating. Labyrinthitis is quite a long-winded viral infection. It took me until Thursday the 15 Jan, before I could venture up to London again – and then only because Grandpa accompanied me and took my arm to steady me. My sense of balance is still quite badly affected and I can't hear very well with my right ear.
I was so eager to see you! You felt quite comfortable with me and had not forgotten me, so we could carry on as before. You were a little more cautious about Grandpa but you didn't cry. I noticed quite a few changes: you could throw a ball into the air, whereas before you never knew how to let go. You did it so delightedly – especially with your several balloons and a little pingpong ball! Also you managed to fit the two halves of a "Russian doll type" heavenly sphere together, quite a delicate, demanding operation. When I tried the kaleidoscope, to my delight you put it up, over your nose at first, and then your eye. But your mum and dad said later: "Are you sure he didn't close his eye? Because that's what he usually does!" – You fed yourself much more competently, not caring whether you had stewed pear, then cold fish, carrots & potatoes, then chocolate pudding. You ate well. Earlier on when Grandpa and I had some toast you ate a whole piece of brown toast with your margarine and honey, all cut up into little squares. I was very impressed!
We went to the "Masbro" Play group where you seemed to be more at ease and went off on your own, even out of my sight occasionally. There I was amazed to see you crawl through the caterpillar tunnel. You seemed delighted and sat in it for a little while. (Your mum told me later on that you love crawling through it at the other playgroup.)
In the afternoon Grandpa and I took you to the playground at Brook Green. I wanted to show Grandpa how you sit on the swing and go down the slide. Unfortunately the weather was quite miserable. You didn't seem particularly keen on the swing and the slide was dirty and wet. Even after Grandpa had cleaned it, it was difficult to slide down. You enjoyed the wooden horses etc. but soon we decided to go back, as it looked more likely to rain and, definitely, didn't want to leave! So, I said you could walk. You held my big hand as best you could and trotted along briskly and gaily. You really loved it! You tapped a lamp post on the way past, then a parked car, felt the blue, plastic cover over a builder's skip, ran your hand gently along a brickwall, and touched the plants hanging over fences & walls. At one point you bent down to pick up a big almost rotten leaf and carried it home. Because it had started to drizzle I asked whether you wanted to sit in the pram now, but, no, you enjoyed this walk far too much. At last, shortly before the flat, it began to rain heavily, so I had to carry you under my umbrella – another novelty. It was a most successful outing! A pity, you won't remember this first long walk!
Since I wrote last, I have looked after you six times because Oma and Opa have gone to Australia for five weeks. During this time you learnt to sing "Twinkle, twinkle, little star." At first your Mum and Auntie Sue didn't want to believe me when I told them, but three days later you sang "dd dd dd" so clearly, "wawa wawa wawa owa" when your Mum carried you in your carrier to accompany me back to Shepherd's Bush underground station, that she was very moved. Since then you sing it when you sit in the pram or when you play in the sitting-room. At the nursery group I always ask for it "for Sam" and yesterday you joined into the hand movements and then said: "ma (more)."
Yesterday I discovered that it is one of the nursery rhymes on the little music box which you love. I was in the kitchen, washing up, and you wanted me to come. So I said: "Can you make some music for Grandma? Twinkle, twinkle little star?" Off you went and pressed the right button for it to be played. You sat down next to it and pressed it several times while you listened and then did it also for your Mum.
You had your second pair of sturdy shoes which are a size bigger so you walked a little awkwardly.
You also learnt, more or less, to drink from your rabbit cup and you can almost unscrew a little face cream tub on which I stuck a picture of a robin and which I filled with round paper cuttings, some like balls other have a star or a moon on it. At the moment you can twist the two halves but you can't let go and twist further. So if the tub is not screwed up tight it opens and you are delighted.
Yesterday we went for a walk in the afternoon. As we didn't have much time I didn't take the buggy because I wanted you to get some exercise. Then I remembered that I had to get some bread (soda bread for Grandpa), we went to the main road and I showed you the lights also the little red man and explained that there would be a noise: "tütütüt" when the little green man appeared. On the way back we watched the "change" several times and even then you called: "ma (more)" and started to cry. I carried you away and tempted you with: "Mamma is coming home!" She was already there when we returned and your face lit up.
In the morning I had to take you to an 18 months check up. Everything was fine and you didn't cry when you had to sit on the scales or stand to be measured. You built a tower of 5 bricks, picked up teddy bending down, as required, and picked up raisins first with one, then the other hand. I told the lady that you are very dextrous. She put down that you could speak 6 words: Mama, Dada, ma (more), baba (ball), and yes and no. Actually you shake your head for no and for yes you don't shake it. (You seem to call me Maman, but I didn't tell her that, and of course you say mãmã for sheep and mooh for cow, you growl for a lion and purr for a cat, you also beat your breast saying ngh, ngh, ngh for a monkey – and there must be a few other things.) You communicate very well, I told her. She wanted to know how you relate to other children. "Well," I said, "he is fairly cautious and always stands back when someone crosses his path." So she replied: "His mother is very gentle, isn't she?" which I took to be a compliment but your mum didn't. I think it was/is! You couldn't have a Mum who is nicer and gentler with you! You are very fortunate.
You all came out for lunch on Sat. Afterwards we went to Danbury Lakes and found the spot where your dad and Auntie Sue were photographed with Grandpa many years ago. We played with your green ball but some other children with a bigger, brighter ball arrived and you were inconsolable because you couldn't have it. Wherever we turned we had to watch out for balls and avoid them. In the house you were fascinated by everything, particularly the stairs and you loved the garden. On Sunday you woke up at 5:45 and because we had all had different ideas about how we would deal with you waking early, we all got up and then we were all very tired, including you. You actually fell asleep in the carrier as Grandpa, your mum & dad went for a walk while I cooked lunch, but your mum brought you back and we managed to put you into the cot without you waking up.
Today your Oma is back with you and my visits will be reduced in future. I have enjoyed seeing you 3 times a week but it does mean that there isn't much time for other things at home. In particular Grandpa and I want to go on long walks to train for our walking holiday in May. Since I wrote last, 2 important things have happened: your mum is expecting another baby, due at the beginning of November, and it looks as if you are going to move to Stoke Newington sometime in the summer. Your parents are very excited about both events. We babysat last Thursday evening, we all had a meal, and then they went off with Auntie Sue to have a second look at the house. They really like it. I hope it all works out well and you are all very happy there. We look forward to the new baby too. Grandpa knows what it's like not to have any brothers and sisters, so he is particularly pleased for you. I wonder what it will be?
Yesterday it occurred to me that I don't notice any changes in you if I see you so often. No wonder, therefore, one doesn't as a parent. I couldn't understand why my response to you seems to be so much more discerning than it was to Sue and your dad. But, I suppose, when one sees you every minute of the day slight changes don't register and they are never seen as a big change.
You have certainly grown up a lot and are much more at ease with other children at the nursery group and in the playground. You have just started to be very keen on drawing with water-based felt tip pens – quite big ones. Yesterday after lunch while I was washing up you sat in your highchair totally engrossed, holding the pen quite properly and changing it from hand to hand occasionally. You mainly try to draw balls or balloons – of course – and manage a round movement very well. Occasionally you called me and made the sound "pschod" which means you have drawn a cat, or I am supposed to draw one.
Your fondness of balls, or anything round, caused me some problems the other day! I was the one who pointed to some round pebbles when I was pushing you in your push chair, hoping you would go to sleep. I picked up one for "Mama" and one for "Dada" (as you say in a deep growling voice, because your dad says it like that). You held them very tightly in each little hand. Occasionally, when you were on the point of dropping off, your fingers loosened and you let one fall, got very upset and I had to find it. I could see you wouldn't go to sleep. So we came home, I gave you some lunch, then set off again in the buggy because you still only sleep in there, or in your chair in the car during the day. You had to have your pebbles to hold! At one point you lost one and cried bitterly, so I decided to walk back to the place where we found them and I actually let you get down to choose some yourself. Then we walked on. I felt like the Flying Dutchman, doomed to circle the neighbourhood, but at last you nodded off and dropped your pebbles! I had a good supply of them, so when you woke up after about 2 hours you were absolutely delighted to find so many and we put them in a little screw-top container for you to rattle, get them out, put them back etc!
At your nursery group I met a mother who told me that her daughter was quite obsessed with balls too and that this lasted for 3 years. I said: "What about your little boy?" So she said: "You won't believe it, but with him it's eggs!" and there was Max walking around with a plastic egg in his hand!
By the way, you still sing the tune of "Twinkle, twinkle little star", quite often in the push chair. In the afternoon you use the text: "mama, mama", but haven't found a good replacement. So far you haven't responded to: "I'm a little teapot, short and stout", although you always say "mow" when I sing it.
We (I!) have selected "Baa, baa, black sheep" as the next song to teach you. So I look for it in your lovely big book of nursery rhymes, open it and prop it up on the table for you to see while you sit in your highchair and eat – or afterwards. Then I sing it through and say: "Very good, Grandma" (as the lady at the play group says when we've all finished singing a nursery rhyme). "Now Sam will have to clap!" And you clap delightedly by bringing your hands together after stretching both arms out as widely as possible. Then, of course, you say: "mow"!
You have become very passionate about drawing with felt-tip pens. You sit in your high chair, completely engrossed, drawing big circles which you proudly declare to be "balloons."
In May, Grandpa and I went on a walking holiday to Tuscany, and when we returned, we found you looking so much more grown-up! You had your first proper haircut, which your dad managed to achieve by bribing you with a packet of crisps to keep you sitting still.
On the 22nd of June, we celebrated Grandpa's 65th birthday on our terrace. You had a wonderful time running around the garden, playing with dinky cars, and climbing the stairs with "Mamma." You are talking in full, natural sentences now, though some of your consonant sounds are still quite soft (you say "Dada" in a deep, growling voice, which is adorable!).
We are on the point of leaving for our walking holiday in Tuscany (10 days) but I must use the next few minutes to jot down a few more things. (Unfortunately – this is how far I got!!!)
10 June: We had a lovely time and came home feeling very fit. Now your other grandparents have gone to Spain for 3 weeks so I shall see you 3 times a week for 3 weeks!
It's difficult to say how, exactly, you have changed. You had a haircut a few weeks ago, achieved with the help of a packet of crisps. I definitely thought you would scream and refuse to sit still. You look more grown up since then and you seem much more grown-up in many ways. On Monday, when I was about to leave, your mum said: "What do you say when Grandma goes home?" Immediately you started to wave and said: "Bye, bye" (still sounding a little like ba ba). You seem to make up sounds to say something. In general you seem very eager to communicate. – When you were sitting in your high-chair and I was feeding you the other day you suddenly smiled at me quite impishly and pointed to the strap as if to say: "Do you realise that you haven't strapped me in?"
Just before we went on holiday I was washing up one day after lunch and you kept coming into the kitchen wanting me to follow you into the sitting-room. I said: "I have to finish washing up, Sam. Look, my hands are all wet!" This was repeated once more. Next time you arrived carrying a towel! – A little later you were playing with your new (modelling) soft stuff. Your mum had made you a face but you wanted to cut out an animal shape. I thought it was clever that you simply removed the eyes, nose and mouth and then cut a duck from the flat, round dough. I prepared another flat "cake" and said: "Would you like to cut out a pig?", handing you the shape, but you brushed it aside and picked up another one (probably thinking: "Oh dear, she doesn't know a pig from a hippopotamus!"). In fact I was holding a hippo shape and you had selected the pig correctly. How does a little one like you discern the difference, not actually knowing hippos or pigs? I must confess, I hadn't looked properly but I was impressed by your discernment! – I also noticed that you now "feed" your animals or doll, and you moved the helicopter about saying something like "broom, broom". You seem much more in charge!
On Thursday morning, when I came in, you wanted to have my keys and my purse, as usual. You are quite good at zipping and unzipping, taking things out of my handbag and putting them back again. After a while I said: "Shall I put my keys back into my purse now? Otherwise, we might lose them!" Immediately, you ran to the settee and pointed underneath. "This is where we usually lose things!" you implied. (The settee almost touches the ground but coins can roll under it or cards or books get pushed out of sight.) Your latest passion is your mum's beautiful bright red umbrella – in fact you like any umbrella. Yesterday we had to take the red one to Brook Green and although it wasn't raining we sat under it on a seat. After a little while you get impatient and make a high noise: "hihihi" – quite protracted and frustrating. "Would you like me to shut it?" Your face lights up and you nod your head vigorously. – You had a very runny nose on Thursday and yesterday. In the afternoon you felt as if you had a temperature but my best attempts to take you for a walk which would settle you and send you to sleep came to nothing. You whined and whined! I had to keep wiping your nose because you hate wiping it on the back of your hand or generally being messy.
I decided Brook Green had to be tried. At first we just sat on a bench under the umbrella but suddenly you sat up straight, smiled and pointed to the stainless steel slide. I followed you there and was amazed to see you climb the stairs, walking to the top of the slide, sitting down and sliding down with obvious delight! I hadn't seen this because we hadn't been to the Green for quite a while. Your mum confirmed that you have been able to do this for quite a few weeks now. After that you spotted a tiny pink bead which you kept rolling down the slide. You still love little things. – In the morning we went to the library in Shepherd's Bush road because it was cold and miserable. Your mum told me that you love going there and looking at books – and you did. I was amazed at the number of books. Although it's more difficult to find some for your age. Finally we selected 3: one about piglet who hides. By the afternoon you had no trouble in pointing to the tiny section of piglet which was sharing among other farm animals, sacks, hay etc. Another one about a lovely Teddy bear who is trying to put on his clothes but puts his pants over his head, his cap on his foot (his shoes on his ears etc). The caption always reads: "Do I put it on like this?" a big: No! as one turns over the page and then the picture with his cap on his head and so on. At first when I asked: "Do I put it on like this?" you vigorously nodded your head but then you got the message. – The third one caused trouble: as soon as I opened it I could see that there was a balloon on the front page. You got very excited and wanted to scratch it off or pick it up. You tire, however many times we say: "This is a picture, it's not a real one! No, you can't pick it up." You seem utterly frustrated by this, or, as in the case of the umbrella, or anything else, you jump down from my lap and run to bring "Sam's" umbrella – or Sam's ball etc. – Lately you also hit your chest with your hands to indicate "I'd like to do that." This you signalled to a child in the play group who took a toy you had just played with. You never fight back or cry but give it up graciously for a while, though you cry bitterly when someone pushes or hits you.
Yesterday, when your mum said: "Grandma is going home now", you came running, stretched up your arms, as you do with your mum or dad when they are leaving. I was quite touched because you hadn't done that before. Usually you are so pleased that your mum is back that you don't pay too much attention about my going, or you "wave with Mamma", but the day before you had wanted me to come back, your mum said. – So I picked you up, gave you a hug and said: "Are you going to come to us for Grandpa's birthday, Sam?" You nodded vigorously. I can't imagine a sweeter and more lovely grandson!
I have looked after you a lot again these last 3 weeks because your other grandparents were in Spain on holiday. A week ago on Friday I took you to the little shoe shop where the owner is a kind elderly gentleman. He was most helpful and although you weren't too happy about having your feet measured you could be distracted with the help of my purse and several mirrors in the little shop. We bought a pair of nice sandals (canvas) with a sun on them and you walked out very proudly. We took the bus back and even went to the library again and later we made a trip to Brook Green, you sitting on your new tricycle from Auntie Sue, which I can push with the help of a long handle.
The following Friday your mum asked whether I would like to take you to the hairdresser. It was quite a trip! We walked there so that you would get some exercise and hopefully sleep earlier. (cont. Sunday, 12 July) First, we went to a little corner shop, opposite the hairdresser, to buy 2 packets of crisps, then we walked across the road and into the hairdressing saloon. There were 2 women cutting hair and about 4 or 5 customers permed. You took one look at them and headed for the door but I managed to persuade you to sit down with me, open a packet of crisps and look at a library book which we had brought as well. I was worried that the crisps would run out at this early stage but at last one of the women came across and asked whether you would like to go and sit on the big chair. I suggested that you wouldn't like that, nor would you like the cape round you. So we finished up with me, very hot under a big cape, you holding your crisps and sitting on my lap on the big chair. Then the hairdresser squirted water at you, which was not a good start, and she began to cut, with you putting your hand up to try and stop her. (She had also asked: "How would you like the cut?!") I was just hoping at this stage that you would let her do to your left side what she was attempting to do to the right! Hair was falling everywhere! On the chip in your hand, into the chip bag, on our book and, of course, into your eyes, on your nose. The young woman sitting next to us kept saying: "Show him what he looks like in the mirror!" but as we were sitting in front of a big one, albeit hidden by various bottles and things I thought you might be even more alarmed if you followed the proceedings. Fortunately, the hairdresser did finish in a very short time! I took off your little T-shirt to shake off all the hair. You had been given a lovely, soft brush to brush it off. Again, you headed for the door, complete with brush and half-naked. The other customers followed proceedings with benevolent amusement. I was a little shocked to be told: £7, to the question: "How much do I owe you?" but the haircut was good and it was done. We went off happily. – Now for the walk home! It started to drizzle. You had to carry the open umbrella! I had taken my little collapsible one which wasn't heavy but still hid most of you. It just looked as if an umbrella was coming along very slowly on short legs. My calls: "Come on, Sam! Let's go home and have some lovely dinner." fell on deaf ears, until you could hear the "clippetyclopp" of two police horses advancing towards our road. I urged you to come and see them. At last the umbrella advanced more quickly. The two police officers smiled and waved as they passed by. After that I decided to carry you and shelter under the umbrella as well.
You all arrived on that Sunday at about 1 pm, bringing Auntie Sue. You had slept on the way here but woke up quickly to enjoy the "new" house. You had a great time, climbing the stairs with Mamma or even Grandpa! running round the garden, into the backyard, out of the sitting-room door, onto the terrace etc. We ate on the terrace although it was almost too hot. Your dad had cooked a delicious dish with onions, lots of yellow peppers and Sicilian sausage which we ate cold with a green salad and bread, followed by strawberries, cream and amarettis. We also had a bottle of champagne first. It was a very happy occasion. You were so happy that you kept singing all the time and quite loudly. Only later, when we decided to go for a walk you became miserable. Your mum, looking at you, said suddenly: "I wonder whether Sam has hayfever?" and, sure enough, your eyes looked red and puffy, your nose was running. I felt so sorry – well, we all did – that you, too, seem to be afflicted by this troublesome illness! We came home soon, had a delicious fresh fruit cake from Maison Blanc and after some supper you had a bath, a bed-time story and you all went back. It had been a very happy celebration and you had appreciated our house and garden. I hope you'll like coming to stay with us once you are old enough.
As I am writing this, you are in your new house: 31, Harcombe Rd, N16 (Stoke Newington). It took much longer to arrange the move, also the first house chosen was rejected again. In the middle of all these uncertainties your mum had a miscarriage (just after Easter) but now she is expecting another baby and the move is over.
When I came up to London on Monday (6 July) I knew it was going to be my last visit to the play group with you. I took several photographs. It was nice to reflect how much easier things had become for you over the last 8 months since you can walk and have gained independence. You really loved the group. In fact, it has been difficult to get you to leave on each occasion, even though we stayed until after 12 am.
When I said good bye to Amanda, the leader, she hugged me and you had to give her a kiss which you did quite happily. When we got home, after having been to Tesco's but with no sign of you wanting to go to sleep, I tried to get you to sleep in your bed, i.e. I said: "Would you like to sleep in your cot?" and you ran there eagerly, lay down with an impish smile and motioned for me to sit down on the chair next to your cot. I said: "Would you like me to sing some nursery rhymes?" You nodded and sang your "Twinkle, twinkle, little star." However, it was all play acting. You were soon standing up fascinated by a big fly which was buzzing around in your room. Then you said something like: "Dedede" quite urgently. I had no way of knowing what it meant, probably you wanted me to read to you. You said: "Dow(n)" and went to hand me one of your books – always with a delighted smile! So, we read. Then I cooked us a meal, as usual. You only wanted what was on my plate, but I had taken care to move yours on to mine. – When I was washing up, you wanted me to come into the sitting-room. So I gave you my purse which you love to play with.
A little later you were back, clutching a twopence piece and urging me to come into the sitting room. There you led me to the window and held up the money. At first I didn't know what you wanted but when I said: "Oh, do you want to go to the play group?" you smiled delightedly and nodded. I felt sorry to have to tell you that Amanda wouldn't be there now, she had gone home. However, you seemed to accept this. Again a little later, you started to cry frustratingly. When I came into the sitting-room – I just had to dry my hands and walk through the opening between the little kitchen and the sitting-room – you were sitting by the settee, surrounded by cushions, tugging at the red one. You were trying to undo the zip and get it out in order to find a tiny feather, as your mother had done in the morning. You were very happy when I produced one or two feathers with which you proceeded to play for ages. You threw them up, blew them or lay on the carpet and blew, watching how they move. When your dad wanted to say goodbye in the morning he couldn't get your attention. He planted a kiss on your head and said: "He's in the middle of his experiments!" and this is just how it seems when you play with all sorts of things. – Earlier on, in the morning your mum asked: "And who are you going to stay with today?" you smiled and pointed to Dada. "No, not Dada" so you smiled and pointed to me. "Grandma!" Well, when I go to see you tomorrow it will be in your new house and Grandpa is coming too!
At the beginning of July, you officially moved into your new house at 31 Harcombe Road, Stoke Newington! It is a lovely house with a wonderful kitchen and garden. Your new nanny, Big Sam, has also started looking after you, which has given your mum some much-needed rest.
On the 18th of August, we celebrated your second birthday! Grandpa bought you a wonderful birthday cake from Waitrose shaped like a lion's face, with a marzipan ball for a nose and round chocolate eyes. You kept popping the chocolate eyes into your mouth and laughing.
The move has made you a little unsettled, and you are very attached to your home right now. Whenever we ask where you want to go, you look up with a face of pure delight and say, "Hom!"
This autumn, you started attending a new playgroup called "Crescendo" at St. Stephen's Church. It is very structured and focused on active learning, though we find it a bit too hectic and noisy compared to the gentle atmosphere of the Steiner group you went to previously.
In November, the whole family went for a weekend getaway to a youth hostel in Blackboys, East Sussex, organized by Grandpa. There were eleven children in total, ranging from 1 to 12 years old. You settled in wonderfully and spent hours drawing colorful balloons for everyone with washable pens.
We celebrated a very quiet and cozy Christmas at Auntie Sue's flat in London. You showed us how you can peel a Satsuma orange entirely by yourself, carefully handing each piece of peel to your mum. Sue also gave you a play tent which we set up in the bedroom, and you spent the afternoon hosting "tea parties" inside for your teddies.
We have been encouraging your musical interests! Mum and I stuck colored stickers onto the keys of your Glockenspiel to represent the scale: C is red, D is orange, E is yellow, F is green, and so on. I wrote out "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" using matching colored notes, hoping you could play along by matching the colors. For now, you are absolutely fascinated by hitting the notes on the paper sheet rather than the keys themselves! Your dad thinks it is a bit ambitious, but suggested I try again next year.
Now, whenever your mum leaves for work, you climb straight into your great-great-grandmother's waving-chair, look out the window, and blow kisses very expertly.
On the 12th of March, Grandpa came up to Stoke Newington to help put up your new big bed. First, he set up your play tent in the sitting room, which you had been asking for. You were so excited by all the activity! Grandpa had quite a job assembling the bed because it came in dozens of tiny pieces, and we had to go next door to borrow a screwdriver from the neighbours. Once it was finally ready, you got on it and jumped up and down obligingly. You have adapted to it beautifully, and Grandpa even fitted two drawers with smart red handles that slide right underneath.
We had a very important appointment at the Warmicott Centre for a follow-up hearing test. It is a wonderfully equipped facility with play areas. The doctor asked your mum how many words you could speak clearly, and she decided on ten words that could be easily understood by anyone.
Then they played a game where you had to wait for a quiet sound before putting a little wooden man into a toy lorry. You did beautifully and heard even the faintest noise! The doctor, who wore a hearing aid himself, was highly pleased and confirmed that you can hear sounds as quiet as 30 decibels. What a massive relief for all of us! It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from your parents' shoulders.
However, we also took you for a Speech Therapy assessment on the 13th of April. It was a miserable, rainy day, and the therapist we saw seemed quite disorganized and didn't inspire much confidence. She tried to play a game with dolls, but you got distracted because one of the figures reminded you of your dad, so you kept pointing and saying "Yaddy Daddy!" She suggested that you might have a general "language delay" rather than a speech delay, and wants to assess you again in the autumn when you turn three. Her general advice was to let you take the lead in play and help you by reinforcing your actions with real words.
For Easter, the whole family, including Auntie Sue, flew from Stansted to Frankfurt to visit Uwe and Lilo. I phoned you on Easter Sunday, and you shouted into the receiver: "Happy Easter, Ramma!" Your mum reported that you slept through most of the flight, though you absolutely loved the lifts and escalators at the airport.
The following weekend, you came to stay at our house in Boreham. You are opening all the doors now and love exploring. In our kitchen, you discovered that the cupboard door under the sink squeaks when opened and pulls out the rubbish bin. You took great delight in carrying your nappies over and placing them into the bin!
We also played an Easter egg hunt. Mamma offered to hide a chocolate egg on the corner latch of our kitchen cupboard and helped you find it by saying "you're getting warmer." You loved the game so much that you immediately wanted to hide it—though you hid it in the exact same spot every single time! A wonderful example of learning by repetition.
While we were in the garden, you decided to play dangerously close to our garden pond to taunt your parents, and ended up slipping and getting your right foot and leg completely wet in the water. You screamed in surprise, but fortunately, no harm was done! Grandpa is going to make the pond safer before your next visit.
On the 16th of April, we received the most wonderful news: your mum is expecting a baby sister! Everything was clear on the latest scan, and your dad is absolutely thrilled. When he phoned to tell us, you grabbed the receiver and wouldn't let go, saying goodbye at least five times because of the general excitement in the house.
Your mum has been evaluating different nursery schools in your catchment area. We visited the Grasmere School Nursery first, followed by the William Patten Nursery. I must confess, I found the prospect of state nurseries a bit depressing—the classes are very large and some of the facilities seemed rather run-down. According to the Ofsted reports, many of the schools are struggling with children who speak English as a second language.
By contrast, we visited the Primrose Montessori Nursery School and were highly impressed. The atmosphere was calm, purposeful, and focused on building independence. We watched a little girl carefully carrying a large tray filled with pine cones as part of a coordination exercise. We have decided that you will start there for three afternoons a week beginning in June.
I came up to look after you on Friday before you start at your new Montessori school next week. We had a lovely morning reading "Pussycat, Pussycat" and went into the garden for a picnic in the sunshine. You even learned a new word: "bumblebee," repeating it perfectly after me!
Later, we took your tricycle out for a ride around the block. When we got back to the house, you wanted to practice opening the front door with my keys. I stepped inside, leaving the door slightly open so I could carry your tricycle in—but you quickly ran up and banged the heavy front door shut behind us! We were locked inside, and my purse containing my mobile phone was locked outside in the pram.
I spoke to you calmly and asked you to run upstairs, fetch your plastic step, and place it by the front door so you could reach the latch—but it was too heavy for you to pull. I decided to go next door to ask the neighbour for help. She kindly found a long ball of pyjama cord. I tied the cord to my leather glasses case, pushed it down to you through the vertical letterbox, and called out: "Sam, open the little case, put Grandma's keys inside, and do the button up!"
I heard you rustling on the other side. "Are you ready?" I called. I gently pulled the string, and to my absolute amazement, up came the glasses case through the letterbox, buttoned up perfectly with my keys inside! I unlocked the door and gave you a massive hug for being such an incredibly clever boy. When we told your parents later, your dad beamed and said, "I'm so proud of both of you!"
In the afternoon I wanted to take you to Clissold Park but couldn't find the keys! I told you to search for them, without much success but found that you had put them in the coin part of my purse whereas my house keys and Auntie Sue's were in the key compartment. – We played with a sand pulley for the first time there...
From now on I won't be able to report quite so much because I don't see you as frequently. I shall have to rely on what your Mum or Dad tell me to some extent.
In fact your dad phoned on 5 June to tell us about your experiences at the Montessori school you had been 4 times during the preceding week and your mum had taken the week off to be able to be there but "withdrew". Dad said that you seemed to have taken to it but been very tired because you wake up around 6 am every morning. One night you woke up twice, once around 2 am, were wide awake and went downstairs as if you were ready to go! So it must have played on your mind quite a lot. On the Saturday, when Dad phoned, you had all been shopping for food in the morning, then more shopping in the afternoon and finally you had all gone to the Nat. History Museum – Dad said you loved this and charged around. When you were all ready to leave after about an hour you went to all the glass cases with stuffed bears etc. in them and growled at them all.
Later, at home, you played "hide and seek" with your dad. When he hid behind the door you came in and said something like: "Oh, where Daddy gone? No here!" just as they do when they look for you. – And when you are looking at the family photographs (on a collage) you said: "Mama peeping at you". I phoned your mum a little earlier because I am going to see you tomorrow. You came to the phone and said: "Hello, ramma!" very cheerfully. When I said: "I'm coming to see you tomorrow" you repeated verbatim: "Coming to see you"!
30 June: I was amazed when I stayed with you yesterday how much you can say now! Your mum thinks it's due to the Montessori group. She thought language had come on a lot but your speech is more or less the same, although you have been to private speech therapy sessions (near the Wigmore Hall) twice so far where you are taught to make various sounds (like a rabbit and other animals) accompanied by actions and pictures. – You brought a toy and said: "Grandma, press button!" which I did. It's a bird which plays: "Twinkle, twinkle little star." Your mum said you hadn't played it for a long time but I'm sure you brought it out because we always sang that together. You also sang: "Pussycat, pussycat where have you been" but though that sounds quite unlike the proper words, something like: "neat, neat, ere a..." etc. almost without consonants. You also sang other songs. It seems that you learn quite a lot of songs at the school and the teacher has said to Mum that you sing a lot.
Mum told me that it was very difficult after the first week because you screamed whenever Mum or Big Sam wanted to leave you there. The teacher reported that you settle down fairly soon afterwards. Yesterday you were ill and not feeling too great when we left you there, so you started saying quietly to your mum that you didn't want to stay but you didn't make a fuss. When we returned to pick you up you were sitting at a little table and eating some bread and banana slices. You continued to do so even when you had seen us, obviously all used to having to finish, more or less, first. On the way home it still rained as it had done all day, a warm steady rain. You didn't want your rain cover on the pram and you wanted to run in the park (or rather "Mamma" to carry you!) We were all very wet when we got home. Mum is now quite big with your little sister, I was concerned that she still carries you too. When we got in I ran the bathwater. Apparently you had refused to have a bath for the last 10 days! I had brought an orange, lion shaped grey soap which Grandpa had given to him with a flannel. So I pretended he was sitting on the bath waiting for you to join him. That didn't do the trick but then I suggested we should see whether one of the Gummibären, I had brought from Germany, could swim. You actually got undressed (or let us undress you.)
Then you cried and said: "Mamma have a bath"—Mamma this, Mamma that, you had said all day. So she decided to get in with you which you loved. Then I made a cup of tea for us and you had half a cup of cocoa. You even let Mamma wash your hair and then tilted your head back to have it rinsed. I was allowed to dry you and put your pyjamas on. Then you showed me where the fish cakes were, so that we could get the tea ready. Mum took me to the underground on her way to her therapy. As we left you stood on the waving chair and peered through the new kaleidoscope I had brought from Göttingen. I hope you settled down soon, as you had been awake a lot the night before, in fact you have been waking up very early i.e. at 5:30 or 6 am every morning, except on Saturday and Sunday. We wondered whether it still has to do with going to the Montessori School. I hope for everybody's sake it will get better soon. All in all I'm sure the school will be a help to you.
Your teacher was saying yesterday that she still wants to spend more time with you teaching you various things which the other children know because they started at the beginning of term. She advised against sending you in the morning because there are more children in the group and you might be lost in it. She said something about you being particularly reserved and finding it hard to make contact with the other children. But she also said that it was more difficult for you because you had come in in the middle of them and therefore missed a lot of the general introductions.
Großmutti, as we call her, came to stay with us from the 14th to the 23rd of July. On Sunday the 18th, we had tickets for a Promenade concert at the Albert Hall, and we arranged to come out to Stoke Newington first so she could see your new house. We arrived at 4:00 pm, just as you were returning from a barbeque.
It was extremely hot, so you were wearing only a pair of dark blue swimming trunks. Apparently, this was your first official day of serious potty training! When we met for a picnic in Regent's Park earlier, your parents brought along a green potty. You were asked occasionally whether you wanted to use it, and we would all close our eyes and hold our breath. When there was success, we all clapped and cheered!
Großmutti brought you several packets of Gummibären, some Schokolinsen, and a hand puppet called Max. Your mum put her hand inside and made Max nod and clap, which you watched with intense interest before immediately imitating her with your own index finger. You also put on a tape for us on your new little radio-recorder (complete with karaoke facilities!). You handled the tape like a little expert, winding the loop back with your finger when it got stuck. Großmutti thought you were incredibly sweet and remarked that your mum is very charming, saying: "I can see why Christopher married her."
You went to the Yorkshire moors, to a cottage somewhere near Kirkbymoorside, in the Farndale valley. Oma & Opa had taken the cottage for three weeks (as they did last year) and you went for the middle week.
On Monday your dad phoned to say that you had chickenpox, and asked if I could remember whether he had had them as a child. I could remember Auntie Sue having them with certainty because she had a big scab in the middle of her hairline between her eyes—she scratched it and it left a little bald patch. I felt fairly certain your dad had them at the same time and told him so.
You were making cheerful noises in the background, evidently not feeling too ill, and then came to speak to me. I always find it hard to think of alternatives to give you, otherwise you just say yes to everything or no. But when I said: "And are you there with Auntie Sue or with Opa and Oma?" You said very clearly and sweetly: "With Opa and Oma!"—then "bye bye, grandma."
I dreamt the other night that you could speak German, i.e. you could count to ten and pronounced the "drei" like a German, and that you also knew some nursery rhymes I didn't know. Apparently, you had learnt all this while you were with Uwe and Lilo.
Today we got a card from your dad. He says among other things: "Went to Rievaulx (ruins of a Cistercian monastery) with Sam who enjoyed climbing among the ruins." You are back home meanwhile, trying to put the house in order. It was painted inside by two women over the last three weeks. According to your dad, it looks great.
Today is your third birthday! I spent yesterday with you while Mamma went shopping and came back with a chocolate cake for your Montessori group celebration, and a beautiful Winnie-the-Pooh cake for today's celebration with Big Sam and the other children.
You greeted me wearing just a T-shirt as you are still doing your potty training but getting on very well. You were delighted by our present: a special spinning device for painting. You loved unscrewing the paint bottles, closed them again, and watched the spinning paint with absolute fascination. Dad asked for one of your paintings to hang in his office, and you chose one for me to take home.
Your language skills have improved tremendously; you are speaking in full sentences now and asking constant questions. "Where are you going?" is a particular favourite, to which your dad has resorted to replying: "To the moon!"
We are still waiting for the arrival of your little sister (due on 26.8.99). Every time the phone rings I think: "This is it!" But no—you seem to react to the general feeling of suspense, anticipation, and stress by being out of sorts and aggressive. I had never seen you like this before. When I was with you last Tuesday you kept poking or pushing your mum and went into a tantrum when your dad suggested that his glass of beer was too heavy and full for you to drink from it.
In the playground you kept chasing the pigeons, shouting very angrily: "Go away!" Otherwise I found you very cautious, whereas Mum reported (via Big Sam) that you push other children aside now. You wanted to go to the wobbly stairs. When I lifted you up you seemed quite uncertain and barely got to the top. My advice to sit on your bottom and come down step by step met with constant "no"s. Finally, I walked up but could not have carried you down because of the swaying steps. At last you decided to walk towards me and step by step down with me. So all was well, but I shan't repeat the exercise until you are much older!
I was also a little surprised to see how frightened you are of dogs now. We went into the part of the park where dogs aren't allowed, which reassured you and made you play happily with your various balls. In between we had a look at some of your nursery rhyme books and one with individual objects or animals with their names printed next to them. You kept pointing to the words and asking: "What does that say?" D-O-G or C-A-T etc. We had to go through the whole book. For the first time, in my experience, you walked all the way to and from Clissold Park and ran around there, apparently full of energy!
In the morning we had made a jelly together. You helped me pull the jelly squares apart and stirred them to dissolve. We filled the rabbit mould and another one with a star on and put them in the fridge—all this because Grandpa & I had sent you a birthday card with the inscription: "Now you've 3 it: jelly for tea!" You love that rhyme and keep repeating it, so Mum asked me to bring some of my moulds. When we got back from Clissold Park Mum said: "Grandma might make you a pancake for tea!" but you said: "No, I want..." something like "Dairylea". Your Mum guessed without success because your response was to cry and repeat your request. Finally she guessed "jelly!" Your eyes lit up and you laughed with joy.
In the fridge, the jelly had run out of the top of the rabbit mould (which isn't very steady) so that it covered the plate. I gave you this to get on with while I tipped the two jellies onto plates. Well, what a success! Your mum agreed: We had never seen you eat anything with quite as much satisfaction, one might almost say "greed" or "desperation!" You stood on a chair by the sink and tried to guide the wobbly jelly into your mouth, dropping the odd spoonful but persisting until the content of the star mould had disappeared—almost half a pint of jelly!! The rabbit was saved for Dada to see. Your mum reported that you ate that up in one go the next day!
At last, your little sister has arrived! Florence was born at 3:49 am on the 7th of September, 1999 at UCL Hospital. Auntie Sue arrived by taxi to be with you and slept at your flat. When your father phoned us with the news at 7:20 am, he laughed and said: "Sam decided to sleep through the whole thing!"
You went to the hospital to see the baby and your mum, who finally came home after 9:00 pm. Of course, we followed all the events via telephone with great excitement. We were so eager to see your reaction to your sister. In some ways, you weren't particularly interested at first, but later you happily stroked her with a soft white feather I had wrapped up as a present. You did this very vigorously!
We had to take photos of Mamma and the baby from all angles. When your mum suggested that you might sit in the armchair and hold the baby, you let out one of your gasps of joy which I absolutely love. You sat down immediately, and we placed your tiny baby sister gently on your lap. You looked so secure and peaceful holding her.
I came to be with you again two weeks later, because we went to a wedding in Switzerland in between. On Tuesdays you are always at the playgroup, so I only see you after that. At about 7 pm Mum goes off to her analysis. You generously consented to me bathing you and decided you wanted Grandma to put you to bed. I had been told that you have two books read to you and then you tell a story (the events of the day), then I was to tuck you in and tell you I'd be back in five minutes.
Well, we went into your bedroom, you jumped into bed and lay down. As there is a bar in front, one can't sit on the bed, so I drew up a chair and sat down. Suddenly you got up looking very alarmed. You got out, stood in the corner by the chest of drawers, in front of the door, and cried violently. I said: "Do you want Dada to read to you?" You nodded. I urged you to stop crying so that we wouldn't disturb Florence, and you calmed down. Dad was already by the door and took over while I looked after Florence, who also was in a crying mood. Dad told me later that I was meant to lie down with you on the bed, and Mum said for your story you lie on her tummy! All these rituals are very important at the moment!
When I came again this Tuesday it was very upsetting because although all had gone well with Dad seeing to you, you stood up and said something to him when he came back after five minutes. You kept repeating, yelling, and sobbing more and more. I couldn't bear it in the end and came up, but your Dad said it would only make matters worse if I came in. He kept explaining that he couldn't understand what you meant. Eventually you calmed down. Meanwhile, Florence was yelling lustily unless I jogged her up and down. When your dad came down later he said: "It's so much better now that we can discuss things." I went in and said to Sam: "You were angry earlier on because I couldn't understand you!" So you said: "Yes" as you do. Dad asked: "Are you better now?" "Yes." "And are you going to go to sleep now?" "Yes." He felt things had been sorted out—and you did go to sleep. So Dad took over Florence!
When we fetched you earlier on from your Montessori group, you decided you wanted a wee and that I could take you. All went well. I said: "You know, when I came last time you showed me how to wash my hands." So you said: "Yes, we washed our hands then and will wash them again today!" (It wasn't said like this but I could understand it all and I was impressed by the long sentences you make now.)
On the way to the music group afterwards you said something like: "I went with grandma to a music group, but it was a different music group, it wasn't the one with Anne." Apparently you had only been once but you remembered that the teacher's name was Anne.
One can tell that you are having quite a hard time at the moment because you now have to share your mum with Florence. You have to be with her a lot and she must come and do this or that. I kept in the background. I also noticed that everything needs to be done in a certain way, for instance you want to go first, up the stairs or down. Mum finds it quite frustrating. Perhaps it feels reassuring? Or you want to be able to do everything yourself or your way? It's fascinating.
Grandpa and I went on a wonderful holiday to America from the 13th of October to the 20th of November. We visited the East Coast, San Francisco, Yosemite, Death Valley, Palm Springs, San Diego, and Los Angeles, where we visited Disneyland.
While at Disneyland, we saw a little boy in a pushchair holding a Mickey Mouse torch that had a bunch of twinkling, multi-coloured optic fibres on its head. We knew you would love it, so Grandpa searched everywhere in the shops to find one for you! When we came over to visit, we closed the curtains in your room so it was dark, and let you unwrap it. You were absolutely thrilled! You spent the next hour demanding: "Close your eyes, Mama. Close your eyes, Ramma!" before switching it on to show us the twinkling lights.
On the 13th of December, you had another hearing test. The doctor found that your hearing in your right ear is still not quite 100% due to glue ear, so your speech therapy will continue. However, your parents are very cooperative, and your language is improving daily. When Grandpa saw you at Christmas, he was amazed at how much easier it was to understand your long sentences compared to November.
You also loved playing with a red and blue "beetle" car that Auntie Sue bought you for Christmas. It goes back and forth on its own, and you were completely thrilled with it.
In January, we went to Germany to visit your step-great-grandmother, Ruth. I spent the week before that with you while your father was unwell with flu. You were so excited to rummage through my bag, where you discovered my German BacStift (a Cologne-scented deodorant stick). You occupied yourself for hours unscrewing it, smelling it, and asking: "Grandma, do you want another smell?"
You also had fun in the bath sticking plastic letters to the tiles. When you tried to spell your name, you got a few letters muddled up. When you pulled one out, you said very clearly: "No, it's back to normal!" I was highly impressed by your use of that phrase.
We came to spend Saturday with you to help out. Your dad had taken you grocery shopping, and told us that you are terrible for grabbing things off the shelves and declaring: "We need that!" To keep you quiet, he had to sit you in the trolley and buy you a packet of Smarties.
At one point, you decided you wanted to go to the playhouse, then you charged into the kitchen, pulled the London A-Z map book from the shelf, opened it to a random page, and pointed: "It's that way, that way, and that way!" Grandpa was highly amused—I bet you take after him as a map reader!
Later in the afternoon, you, Mamma, and Dada went into London to ride on the Millennium Wheel (the London Eye). Grandpa suffers from vertigo and didn't feel he could face it, so I stayed behind to look after baby Florence. You came back absolutely full of beans and highly excited, showing no fear of the heights at all. Your dad, on the other hand, admitted to feeling a little queasy!
From the 24th to the 27th of March, you went with Auntie Sue on a holiday to Center Parcs near Bath. Sue bought you a personal stereo set from the Early Learning Centre. She said everyone was highly amused to see you sitting in the back of the car with your earplugs in place, the tape recorder clipped to a belt around your waist, rocking happily to the rhythm of the music.
Before bed recently, we all sat together in the sitting-room to watch one of your educational tapes. I looked over at baby Florence, who was sitting on your dad's lap, but you quickly tapped my arm and said: "Good, Ramma!" (you say "good" instead of "look" at the moment). You have quite a few consonant substitutions in your speech right now, which can make you a bit difficult for outsiders to understand, but we are working on it!
Easter was a wonderful celebration. We hid Easter eggs in Blake's Wood and then some more back at home. You were so excited to hide them that you stood in front of my study door and asked: "Are you frightened, Mamma?" You were far too excited to let anyone search for their own eggs and kept pointing them out! Afterward, you and I sat together to assemble your new number-caterpillar toy. You counted perfectly up to ten: "one, two, wee, vour, wive, sitsc, seven, eight, nine, ten."
Later, when I came upstairs to say goodnight, you looked at me with your big, beautiful eyes and asked: "Do you like hugging? Do you like kissing? Do you like loving?" It was the sweetest, most charming moment. Mind you, you can still be very headstrong at times!
Your parents have been busy visiting local schools. They liked Grasmere best, noting that the headmistress is highly competent and has a very warm personality. The big question now is whether you should start mornings-only in September, wait until January, or wait until you turn five.
Your mum hasn't been too impressed with the Montessori nursery lately, feeling they haven't done much to help your speech. Additionally, the funding for your private speech therapy will run out in June. It is a difficult decision, but we are currently leaning toward keeping you home a little longer.
On Saturday the 10th of June, your mum went to a university reunion in Newcastle, and I stayed over to help your dad. We had a wonderfully relaxed weekend. In the afternoon, we drove up to Hampstead Heath. You chose your "Silly Songs" cassette tape for the car, listening very attentively to "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" and "There Was a Crooked Man."
In the park, you were supposed to play football with your dad, but you were in a mischievous mood and kept sitting on the ball or throwing it in the wrong direction! When we walked along the paths, you would run straight toward total strangers and beam at them. One jogger was quite put out, but most people smiled back warmly.
At the end of July, we came over to celebrate your dad's birthday. It was a terribly hot afternoon, so we filled a little plastic pool with water for you on the terrace. You kept squirting everyone with a water syringe that Auntie Sue had brought! Later we walked to Clissold Park, which was incredibly crowded, and you played a very mischievous game of football with Dada, throwing the ball in every direction except toward him. Once, you threw it right into the middle of a newspaper a lady was reading on the grass! Grandpa and I felt you needed a firm reprimand for that.
From the 20th to the 22nd of August, you went with Oma and Opa to Yorkshire. When you returned, we all went to Walberswick on the Suffolk coast for a day trip. While we were getting ready in the garage, Grandpa was showing you some of his tools. You wanted to show us his magnifying glasses and tape measure, but when Grandpa asked for them back, you refused. In a fit of temper, you threw them behind the sideboard under the stairs! Grandpa was quite upset by your behavior, and your dad had to take you upstairs to calm you down and have a private talk. You are certainly a handful at the moment, and we feel you need clearer boundaries, though your parents find that approach too controlling.
Unfortunately, a massive storm blew up just as we arrived on the beach at Walberswick, so we had to huddle under blankets on my grass mat before heading back home.
Auntie Sue took you to the Lyric Theatre in Hammersmith to see a Puppet Show. She said you absolutely loved it and actively joined in. Afterward, you went shopping, and in the Early Learning Centre, you chose a toy Hoover. You were so proud of it that you insisted on carrying it home yourself. Sue said that when you were relaxing at home, you hoovered the entire flat before going to bed, leaving the Hoover standing right next to your bedside! When your mum asked what you had enjoyed most about your day with Auntie Sue, you replied happily: "I enjoyed everything!"
I bought you a baseline assessment preparation book on numbers for four-year-olds. We did some of the exercises together, and you were wonderful at counting objects from 1 to 10 and understanding concepts like shorter/longer and taller than. Your speech has improved considerably yet again, though you still substitute some letters (you say "seben" for seven).
You had your first overnight stay with Auntie Sue recently. You wanted to do it so much that we had to arrange it even though Matthias was visiting. Sue told us that you spent the afternoon hoovering her feet! Before going to bed, you phoned your parents and said very grown-up: "I think I'm going to bed soon. I've had my bath."
You have been learning all about dinosaurs lately. When you came home from the Montessori school one day, you announced proudly to your father: "Paleontologists study dinosaurs." Your dad smiled and asked: "Would you like to be a paleontologist, Sam?" to which you replied very matter-of-factly: "Don't be silly, Dad. The dinosaurs are all dead!"
It has now been officially confirmed that you will start at Grasmere School in January. Over 50% of the pupils there speak a language other than English at home, which we think might actually help you feel less of an "odd one out" with your speech delay. We are very hopeful that the structured environment will help your pronunciation.
In January, you officially started school at Grasmere! The transition was a bit of a worry for us adults, but you were incredibly excited and not concerned at all. On your first day, you proudly showed me your coat peg (marked with your photograph) and explained how the lunch tables are set up.
Your speech has continued to improve wonderfully. During a visit in February, you wrote a sweet letter to me that read: "Rah m Sem Luf syoo" ("Grandma, Sam loves you"). Grandpa bought you a new phonics book, and we spent the afternoon practicing writing letters and numbers.
At the end of February, we went to the cinema with Auntie Sue to see the film How the Grinch Stole Christmas. You were so good and sat through the entire 1 ½ hours! You also learned how to ride your bicycle with stabilisers, mastering it within ten minutes.
On the 24th of April, I took you to the local Health Shop. While we were there, a little girl confronted you and said, "You should not be here, Sam." I quickly questioned her: "Why shouldn't Sam be here? If you are here, Sam can be here too!" You didn't pay much attention because you were so occupied selecting two fruit bars—an apricot one for yourself and a date bar for baby Florence.
In May, you and your parents attended several counseling sessions at the Tavistock Institute to help with your shyness around other children. Your mum reported that the sessions were highly useful and helped them align on a common approach to support you.
On the 27th of July, you came to stay overnight at our house in Boreham on your own for the first time! You were fascinated by our hand-held "dust-buster" vacuum cleaner and insisted on carrying it around to clean the stairs. After lunch, you watched a dinosaur documentary with Grandpa, completely engrossed, and spent the evening asking us questions about them.
We went on a family trip to Germany in late August to celebrate Rainer's 50th birthday. You made the most intelligent speeches at the breakfast table, explaining the extinction of the dinosaurs to Grandpa using a special book with transparent pages that Tante Ute had given you.
For your own birthday, we bought you a toy cash register. You woke up at 6:00 am on your birthday shouting: "The shop is open!" and refused to accept that shops don't open that early.
You have also become an expert at catching insects! Your mum showed you how to catch an ant, and you spent hours observing spiders, flies, and pieces of wood through a container with a magnifying lid.
Looking back on the last few months, the most remarkable achievement is how wonderfully you have learnt to read! You can read almost everything now, and your skills on the computer are quite extraordinary—Grandpa was amazed at how quickly you can type words without hesitation.
In March, I started helping out at your school on Monday afternoons. Your form teacher, Robert, assigned me to work with your group. You were so proud to show me your classroom! We did some science exercises about plants, and you drew lovely pictures of the trees in the playground.
At bedtime, you have started playing a game called "Check on me." You look at me and say: "Check on me after 6 minutes!" and then "Check on me after 3 minutes!" We both know it's a game to delay sleeping, but it is a lovely ritual.
We spent a wonderful week-end in June at a cottage. You struck up a conversation with a couple and their grandsons who were fishing by the stream, confirming your deep interest in fossils. Later, you enjoyed a long session in the bath playing with rubber elephants and an anteater.
At bedtime, I read you the story of Heidi. You loved it so much that you appeared at 7:15 am the next morning clutching the book, barely able to open your eyes, and proceeded to read it to Grandpa while I made tea.
Toward the end of the summer term, your speech became wonderfully clear! You can now pronounce your consonant sounds perfectly, and you managed to get three school awards from Robert: the Bronze, the Silver, and the Gold. You also started taking African drumming lessons on Monday afternoons, which you absolutely love.
This year we celebrated Christmas Eve at your house. We went to the church service together, and Auntie Sue decorated her tree beautifully. You were most thrilled with a popcorn maker she gave you!
On the first Sunday of Advent, you woke up early, climbed into our bed with your toy leopard, and asked me a highly unexpected question: "What is infinity plus infinity?" I was quite disturbed that you were pondering such deep mathematical concepts so early in the morning! I replied: "Infinity plus infinity? I suppose it is infinity as well." You nodded thoughtfully and went back to sleep.
Later in the day, we baked Christmas biscuits and decorated them with white and chocolate icing. You were so proud of them and told your mum: "We won't eat these until Christmas!"
You are very into pop music now, and on the drive home, you asked to listen to a cassette tape of the Beatles, proudly announcing in advance which song would play next. Between your drumming lessons, your new drum kit, and your keyboard, there is a wonderful lot of music in your life now. It has been a very happy year, and we look forward to what the future holds for you, Sam.