Baby Sam

August 18th, 1996

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.

Rebecca & Chris are very proud to announce that...
Samuel William Howard Robinson-Adams
was born at 2.21hrs on 18th August 1996
weighed 7lbs & 4oz
(and he's so sweet)

1 Sterndale Road, London W14 0HT
Tel 0171 610 5178

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.

Your grandfather looked up the meaning of your name and wrote out the following for you:

Samuel
Name: "the Unnamed God is God"
Two traditions:
1. Seer (visionary): the one who is consulted by men about their problems, however trivial (i.e. local); the man who established prophetic order as an element in life; first of the prophets.
2. Judge (leader): national figure; ruler of the people near the end of his life.

August 22nd, 1996

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 four hours, making little high squeaking noises occasionally, or breathing out again. You seemed a model baby!

When your mother fed you your father sat beside her watching. Then he said: "He looks quite 'blissed out' when he comes off the breast!"

They still call you 'Forty' or 'Forti'.

September 18th, 1996

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.

September 24th, 1996

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!'

October 6th, 1996

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 drove 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.

October 28th, 1996

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!

November 8-10th, 1996

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.

Middle of December, 1996

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 engaged 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.

December 14th, 1996

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, as 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).

Christmas Eve, 1996

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.

New Year's Day, 1997

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.

January 4th, 1997

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!'

January 10th, 1997

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.

January 19th, 1997

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.

January 31st – February 2nd, 1997

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.

February 22nd, 1997

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.

February 26th, 1997

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.

March 6th, 1997

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.

April 14th, 1997

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.

The Wedding, May 31st, 1997

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-wracking 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.

When you grow up I would like you to know of that wedding celebration that it was pervaded by a wonderful atmosphere of friendliness and warmth. It was informal, a big family affair, taking place in an unusually lovely setting in the most perfect weather. For the German visitors it could not have been more 'English', in the best sense, and yet it was of course quite international with people from so many different countries and backgrounds.

I would also like you to know that your parents had a lot to do with the atmosphere. They wanted it to be informal and friendly. Their wish to share with us how they had met, how much they love each other, how they are seen by their parents and friends, was all-important.

You are blessed with a mother and a father, Sam, who in their different ways have a very fortunate make-up. They are warm, emotional, gifted people. I feel very hopeful that they will be able to create a happy family life for you all.

June 11th, 1997

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.

But as 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.

June, 1997

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.

July 7th, 1997

You learnt to crawl, Sam, just before going on honey-moon with your parents (7 - 17 June) in Tuscany near Siena. Also 2 bottom front teeth came through at about that time.

At the moment you have the telephone to play with, pens, cups – in general whatever is not part of your vast array of toys. Also, you want to be where the action is i.e. on your mum's lap or your high chair and not on the carpet.

August, 1997

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!"

First Birthday, August, 1997

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!

August 24th, 1997

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.

September – October, 1997

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.

October 5th, 1997

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.

October 21st, 1997

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.

November 18th, 1997

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!"

November, 1997

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.

December, 1997

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.

December 16th, 1997

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.

December 27th, 1997

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.

January 18th, 1998

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!

February 18th, 1998

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, "tututut", 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-month 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 mama, but I didn't tell her that – and of course you say mama 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.

March 7th & 8th, 1998

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.

March 27th, 1998

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!

April 8th, 1998

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'!

April – June, 1998

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!).

May 20th – June 10th, 1998

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!

June 13th, 1998

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!

June 28th, 1998

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.

Grandpa's 65th Birthday, June 21st, 1998

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.

June 28th, 1998

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 both 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 two 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.

July 12th, 1998

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!

August 1st, 1998

We came up to your new house on Monday, found the new train journey from Liverpool St Station to Rectory Rd much more convenient, but were a little shocked by some of the streets and estates on the way to Harcombe Rd. We liked the road and the house very much. It's very friendly. I love the kitchen and garden which I had imagined to be much smaller and far less developed. Grandpa did various jobs while I took you for a walk, so that you would go to sleep. After lunch you played around in the kitchen and garden while we worked. I cleaned the windows, Grandpa polished the top of the kitchen units. You are fascinated by the steps on the terrace and played with your Dad's little dinky cars I had found in a box in our garage. Later we went for a walk round the block. You ran and ran, stopping occasionally to pick up a stone or "sniff" a flower. We talked to a lady near your house who was quite ready to cut off the only rose in the garden for you because you smelt it so orderly.

We came back again on Thursday and then I came on my own on Mondays. All the playgroups we tried have just closed down for the summer holidays, only the 1 o'clock club in Clissold Park is open every day until 4 pm. The playground, a little further along, is extremely well equipped and shd. be good when the holidays are over. At the moment it is totally overrun by a cosmopolitan mixture of Dads, Mums, children or child-minders: Jewish dads in their orthodox garbs mingle with young women in flowing dresses, jeans, fathers with rucksacks for you. You say: "Up, up", and go 2 or three steps up towards it, and another child pushes past you and you give up.

On Monday you were very eager to go to the sandpit. So we took bucket and rake and a little cat-mould but immediately you put sand in your mouth looking very impish. I said: "No, sand is not for eating, it's for playing and sprinkling, Sam." you obligingly sprinkled it, as you used to do but then put some more in your mouth to test me. I carried out my threat and we left, going to the swing instead. Sometime later you wanted to go back but were just as eager to see whether I would be amused by your eating sand!? I'm afraid, I wasn't. Instead we visited the large enclosed grassy area where no dogs are allowed. That made a tree and threw the ball for you, you ran, smiling and eager, to retrieve it. Or you ran after the pigeons. In any case you got a lot of exercise and, hopefully, slept well that night. You have a little table now, one side for paper and pens, the other for chalk. You loved drawing. Sometime you get absorbed in it for long spells. Your latest achievement is drawing very credible balloons with lovely, long strings.

Your mum and dad think that you are rather unsettled by the move, which I can't judge. It would seem natural. Although I feel you will love the house and neighbourhood once you are accustomed to it. People in the streets are very friendly and helpful. The many little shops are lovely too. It's a better place for a child to grow up than Shepherd's Bush (i.e. Sterndale Road) was, I think.

August 13th, 1998

On Monday I came up for the last time before you and we go on holiday. I worked out the other day that I will have spent 7 ½ weeks with you in all since the end of January this year!

You can now sing "Old McDonald had a farm", "Here we go round the mulberry bush". "Alle meine Entchen" (everything without words) which you learnt from one of your TV tapes (produced in Scandinavia and without words but imaginary sound language) and of course "Twinkle, twinkle little star." You sang that and pointedly to the little star on your new gas cooker! You can draw quite nice balloons now with very impressive strings. You can say: "Up, up" as you go up the stairs, "dow(n)", according to your mum I am "Ama" whereas the other grandma is "Oma", Auntie Sue is "Ada". You say "Yes, Dada" when he tells you to say it! and you say "Blow up" or something close to it.

You can open and close your own umbrella, play the humming top we brought back from St. Ives and are, in general, very good with your hands, also very persistent. On Monday you got very frustrated because you couldn't feed the strap of my watch through the metal part to put the 2 sides together.

Since last week you have your dad's set of little silver spoon, teaspoon, fork and knife and love eating with them. It took you about 15 mins. to "shove" some soup with the little teaspoon. The main course took ages, the pudding (chocolate) delighted you. I had given you about half the quantity but you kept asking: "more, more." Quite an array of accomplishments shortly before your 2nd birthday which you will celebrate with your mum & dad in Southwold.

Late Autumn, 1998

In the afternoon the new settee arrived. You kept saying "settee", "vater" (water), and all sorts of things. The great excitement was that I would stay overnight and inaugurate this new bed-settee for the spare bedroom. I was able to watch you having a bath. Mum said: "Show Grandma what you do with your teacup!" So you poured bathwater in from the teapot then drank it, wiped your lips with the back of your hand and said: "Ah!" as if it had been a most delicious brew! Then you jumped around on your mum and dad's mattress and performed all sorts of tricks before finally settling down to a bedtime story. In the morning I could hear you sing in bed. Then I heard "Unmama", "umbraba" and a little later the door opened: you appeared, completely naked, but holding your multicoloured umbrella over your head: "Umbraba!" "Umbrába", "Unmama", "Unmama" – you were very excited!

The following Thursday we had to try out another playgroup: "Crêchendo" a nationwide organisation which operates in many church halls etc. We left early because we had to take the 73 bus from Albion Rd. You began to scream gently and say: "hom", to let me know that you didn't want to go on the bus, apparently you didn't like it the day before. This "screaming" is quite a clear way of asserting yourself. I said: "No, Sam, don't make such a noise!" and then "Grandma will start to cry!" I don't know whether you understood any of this but you were diverted by being allowed to walk along the wall by the bus stop. When the bus arrived a young black woman offered to carry the buggy. There was no room in the bus. I really couldn't have managed without her. Then the bus conductor didn't know where Canonbury Rd. was. Fortunately various other people got involved and by the time we had finally to get off, one woman helped with the buggy, another showed us the road, and we set off for St. Stephens Church.

This playgroup professes to carry out "active learning programmes" and we were told today's subject would be Transport!!! All the little ones had to take off shoes and socks and the adults their shoes. Then one of the play leaders, of which there were about 5, gathered us round on coloured plastic mats. Time for a warm-up, some singing "How shall we sing it?" "Very fast!" It was the opposite of the Steiner group: very hectic and noisy and geared towards "learning"! In the course of the transport topic the little ones, most of whom could hardly say "cat" or "cow", were expected to distinguish a triangle from a rectangle and name them! Also they had to count, recognise letters, etc. I found it hopelessly inappropriate and intolerable. The play leaders obviously repeat the same programme about 5 times a day in different halls. Their van, complete with logo, was parked outside. I advised your mum against this and would rather go back to the Steiner group. There the leader gave no instructions but just sang, as we spread out the blankets, "Let's paint a rainbow" etc. Or she simply lay down on some blankets and expected everybody else to do the same. (Somewhat reluctantly in my case!) We were told according to Steiner, children learn by imitation and repetition. I'm sure he was right.

This last week-end Grandpa and I, with the help of Auntie Anne & Uncle Hugh, organised a week-end for all of Grandpa's relatives (31 out of 26 could come). We had booked the youth hostel at Blackboys near Uckfield in East Sussex. It was a most successful occasion. The eleven children were 1, 2x2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 12 years old. They played together marvellously although some of them didn't know each other. You arrived with Ollie Sue and your mum & dad in Ollie's land-rover for lunch on Saturday. (Some of the others had been there since Friday evening.) You settled down very well. On Sunday morning, to my great dismay, you started to sing at 5 a.m. in the room next to us where you slept with Ollie Sue and your parents. Fortunately you went to sleep again after a while. After breakfast you amused everyone by drawing balloons for hours, with washable, coloured pens I had brought. Uncle Paul said after we had seen the old films of your dad and 'Ada' as children: "Sam looks just like Christopher"; and Uncle Peter was very charmed by you. He said: "You only have to look at him to see that he will be going places!" When we took a final group photograph everyone was calling cheese but you called "umbrába". So we took another photograph, this time everyone joined you in shouting "umbrella!" They all thought your obsession with umbrellas was quite extraordinary. At one point you had Grandpa's enormous red one and his new black one. It was hard to hide them!

October 14th, 1998

Actually, you spent your 2nd birthday with us! You had all spent half the day with us on Saturday, on your way to Southwold. On Monday a very distressed Dad phoned at about 10 o'clock. "Mum, we are alright but Sam..." I thought you had had an accident but no, you wouldn't settle, you didn't like the beach, you didn't like the hotel, you wanted to go "hom". So your parents had decided to come back a day early and call in again on Tues. 18 Aug.! Grandpa went to Waitrose in town to buy you a special birthday cake: a lion's face with a red little marzipan ball as a nose and two round eyes which you kept popping into your mouth and then putting them again on your plate. Even then you walked into our house you felt happier. At the table your dad asked: "And where are you going to be tomorrow?" you looked puzzled: "Are we going to stay here or where?"

The move had obviously unsettled you. I whispered "home" across the table to you and your face lit up in a wonderful look of delight: "Hom!" you replied. Your parents told us that you stayed awake in the car, although you were ready for bed, and when you got home at 9 o'clock you took your parents by the hand and they had to go into all the different rooms of your house as if to take possession of it again.

We then went to Germany where my uncle was very ill. We had to stay in Göttingen for a whole week longer and couldn't spend a week on our own in Schönau. Finally, we had a car break-down in Lorraine (Lunéville) which added 2 more days to this rainy and exhausting journey abroad, but at least nothing had happened to us. When I saw you again for the first time on the 24 & 25 September you seemed a lot more grown up. On the Thursday we went to a Steiner group, which neither of us took to at first, but you liked the candle ceremony at the end. Every child was allowed to extinguish a candle with a snuffer, then it was lit again for the next one. The group leader told a story, we all sang, and finally we sang and waved good-bye. Everybody seemed to disappear suddenly and you burst into tears. I didn't know why and couldn't console you but as you said "more!" I gathered you must have been upset that everyone shd. have left.

October 22nd & November 12th, 1998

Some new words: Up here, down here, upstairs, downstairs, dear, dear (you repeat it when I say it).

12 Nov: Radiator, helicopter (pronounced fairly differently but recognisable), up, up and away (taught by Grandpa when climbing our stairs).

November 18th, 1998

I came up to stay with you on the 4th & 5th and 12th & 13th of November, the last long engagement before the new nanny, Samantha, takes over. She came on Thursday, the 12th between 12 and 3 pm. Your mum had worried that you would react strongly. You screamed when she arrived but settled down fairly quickly. I stayed in the sitting-room, as I was supposed to keep in the background, if possible. I joined you all in the kitchen for lunch. You were obviously quite excited and wouldn't sit down on the kitchen chair to have your lunch but insisted on standing on the chair. When you burnt your mouth on a piece of scampi, Samantha said: "Drink this, it will cool your mouth!" holding up your cup. You took it immediately and calmed down. I judged that she seems to know what she is doing and that you would probably do what she tells you because she is so firm. When she was getting ready to leave, you kept saying: "Hofn" (home), but she interpreted it to be her name: "Yes, I'm called Sam, that's right!" It seemed to go on, and on – your mum said she didn't have the heart to tell her!

Anyway, it had gone better than your mum feared. In the night though, at about 3 am, you yelled "unmama! unmama!" and couldn't stop. I got up to see whether I could help in any way but your Dad was just going into your room. (He obviously took much longer to wake up than I had.) Fortunately you only remembered having called your Dad. When Mum said: "And who did you call during the night?" you beamed and said: "Dada!" We went to your playgroup (in the Scout building) on Friday morning (10-12). As your Mum had told me you seemed to have lost confidence since the last weeks at the "Masbro" group. You don't go anywhere on your own at the moment. When we went downstairs to have a snack you pulled me back and didn't want to go into the room. I took a little while to understand that we had to go to see the poster first, more specifically the 10 (yellow) balloons, 14 cherries and 13 bells (yaya ba = yellow bell). After that you followed me in.

After your bath you perform all sorts of acrobatics on your mum & dad's bed at the moment, in particular somersaults. You do those beautifully, and your naked, little body bends in all directions. For some time now you have been drawing very credible balloons with strings attached. Now you also draw umbrellas = umbr. I tried to show you how to let go after 1, 2, or 3 loops to draw a bird but you haven't managed that yet. On Sat. afternoon Grandpa and I came by car to babysit and first to occupy you while Mum & Dad did some admin. Grandpa was very impressed when you brought your little plastic step to stand on, beside the cutlery drawer, then opened it and selected Dad's little silver spoon for some "any". You also charged up and down the kitchen and right up to the front door to impersonate a galloping horse, then made yourself very tight and small and walked quietly (we didn't quite know how to interpret that other than as a contrast – "was very small and quiet"!). Then Grandpa clapped his hands to make a booming noise. He didn't really succeed and you looked rather worried. So he started to whistle. You looked at him very intently, pursed your lips but nothing happened. You were at a loss for a second or two, then charged towards the empty kitchen chair next to Grandpa, climbed up, and pursed your lips again. One could see from the expression in your eyes and on your face that you had figured out: "If only I sit on a chair like Grandpa, I'll be able to do it!" Unfortunately no sound, only air – but never mind, you soon found something else to do. You threw your hanky in the air and were delighted when it landed on your head. Next we rolled a ball along the kitchen and you rolled it back. You are never "unengaged"!

On the settee in the 'aboar', as you call the sitting-room, you pile up cushions and pretend you are sitting on the big red bus, handing out tickets to passengers or falling off. In the bathroom I noticed how nimble you are compared with last year. You can unscrew almost any jar and screw it up again. You also like various kitchen gadgets, in particular your great-grandma's old 'beater', which you turned expertly to help with making pancake batter.

December 4th, 1998

On Friday, when I was with you, you seemed more settled. You didn't want to go out but, as the whole thing is paid for, we went to your group and you were much better, even playing ball, i.e. throwing a ball to a little boy on the trampoline who threw it back to you repeatedly. That was the first example of you playing with other children I have noticed. (I was sitting next to you and encouraging both of you.) You also went onto the trampoline yourself while I sang: "Sa-am, Sa-am, Sam come out to play, Sa-am Sa-am it's a lovely day. Sa-am put your jacket on, tell your mum you won't be long. I'll be waiting round the corner!" This is usually done during group singing, and most of the other children are very eager to perform on the trampoline while the others sing – John or Sally or whatever – but you have never dared to do it.

On our way back we went to have some keys cut for Dad. You seemed very happy. The lady in the shop enquired whether you were singing and I assured her you were. You said "Dada's keys", so I corrected you: "not keys, key." You thought that was great, saying: "Not keys, key"! obviously unable to hear the difference or to pronounce a "c" sound. Your mum had an interview for a job in Hackney in the afternoon. Your Dad returned to the house with your new, silver Golf and, as your Mum was a bit late, he drove her to the interview. She was suffering from a terrible cold. Later you all took me to Stoke Newington station in the new car. We said good-bye until tomorrow, because you are all coming out to Boreham for the first of Advent.

As before, you loved the novelty of our house, wanting to go upstairs at regular intervals. Grandpa taught you "up, up, and away!" while climbing upstairs with him. You were mainly concerned to play with 'Klettermaxe' who hangs on the wall behind my door. On Sunday the weather was glorious. Your Dad wanted to show you the Heather Hills. The most exciting event there was to run down the hill, carried by either Mum or Dad. At one point a gust of wind shook a large oak tree above us. Lots of dry leaves floated down as if in a silent display. Dad caught one for you. But then you started complaining: "Unmama home!" It seems that all the changes which have occurred lately in your life have made you eager to stay home.

In the afternoon we lit the Advent candles again, and sailed walnut boats with birthday candles in them on a bowl in the kitchen. You loved that.

Christmas, 1998

Although you had woken up at 7.10 am your mum was worried that you would wake up at home and give them trouble, so you stayed until 7.30 pm. Apparently you were inconsolable, wanting to stay in "Unmama's home", until you finally fell asleep.

Later your Dad phoned to tell us that Mum has got the job. We were delighted. Things really should settle down for all of you more and more. (The job starts on Feb 1, until then Mum will have to drive to Bexhill but at least she now has a car in which the heating – and everything else – works.)

You went to Cambridge this year and we celebrated Xmas eve and day with Auntie Sue as she had to work on Xmas morning. We enjoyed being with her in London, prepared the meals, so it was all very relaxed and easy.

On Sunday after Xmas you came back via Boreham. At first you were asleep when your Dad carried you in but soon you woke up and were as cheerful as always, also eager to look around everywhere and go upstairs to see Klettermaxe.

After lunch we all just sat in front of the fire. You showed us how you can peel a satsuma all by yourself. It wasn't one with an easy skin to get off but you persisted and did it bit by bit, encouraged by your mum who waited patiently to receive every little piece of peel. You chatted a lot, repeating whole sentences. After a nice bath in the early evening you all went off, cheerfully this time, nor did you go to sleep in the car. Perhaps you are excited again about getting back home after a few days away.

We had arranged to meet up at your house, also with Auntie Sue, to exchange Xmas gifts. When we arrived at four o'clock it all looked very festive, candles lit everywhere on the big table in the kitchen and a big fire making the lounge warm and cheerful. You were in your element wishing us all: "Happy New Year!" as you had been taught. You came downstairs with your arm round Auntie Sue's neck as if she were your mum. Later we unwrapped the presents. The biggest surprise was a lovely tent from Auntie Sue which Dad and Sue put up in the back room. You installed yourself with Mum's help with the lambskin, a cushion and your tray with cups and a teapot. Only one person was allowed in at the time, and occasionally you would reply to: "May I come in?" "No, not Daddy", "yaddy" or whoever it was! Again it was a very happy occasion for us all, largely due to you!

January 17th, 1999

It was my turn to look after you on Friday. "Big Sam" looks after you now on Tues., Wed., and Thursday. On Tues. she takes you to another family whose child, Fynn, is 9 months old and very intriguing to you. In future he will come to your house with Big Sam. Oma and I only see you every fortnight now. You had been waiting for me and were as pleased as I was to see you. Now you can say Grandma (Ramma) – I liked Unmama but I'm pleased. Mum went to her analysis, we just stayed at home. It was raining anyway. Also the time I have with you now is so short that we both agreed "home" was the best place. We went upstairs to read some books. You astonished me by turning and flicking the pages so expertly. Auntie Sue said the other day that she thinks you are very advanced. She named as an example the fact that you can flick your fingers.

Another accomplishment is your awareness of numbers from 1 to 3. At one point on Friday your mum said to you: "Do you know how many oranges there are left if you have 3 and I take away 1?" You smiled, pulled your upper lip down and said with some effort "two". Apparently Big Sam taught you to say "two", which you couldn't say before. I then put 2 oranges on the table and put one more. You said "three". If I took away 2, you said "one"; when I took that one, you said "none". (This concept comes from the book "Old Mother Hubbard and her Dog" ... "but then she came back the poor dog had ..." I used to read and you would fill in "none", i.e. no bone.

We practised again in the afternoon with the abacus. You definitely understand numbers 1 to 3. You also did all the 10 shapes (circle, square, triangle, egg shape, &c.) which I bought for you from the Montessori shop for your first Xmas. We mixed all the shapes up on the carpet, you lifted one up, and I would say: "Where does that go?" "Over here" you would say, and point to the empty space into which it fitted.

February 1st, 1999

Your mum discussed your speech with me in the afternoon. We both agreed that you speak a lot now but that it is quite unintelligible at times, at least to outsiders. When we went through the alphabet we found that you can't say consonants like 'f', 'k', 'l', 'p', 's', 't', and some vowels 'e', 'i', 'u'. The question is whether you will add them to your repertoire in due course or whether speech therapy would help. Some time ago when you lived in Sterndale Road – it was probably last spring (April '98?) – you had to have a hearing test in the surgery next to the playgroup. The doctors who did it said that your hearing, which was not very good because you had had glue ear in both ears, had improved but was not completely better. They felt that your speech would be affected by this to some extent. So Mum feels that you ought to have another hearing test. It would be liberating for you if you could really clearly express your thoughts. You communicate so well but wrongly that it is frustrating for you at times if we guess wrongly what it is you are saying.

I came up on Thursday evening (28 Jan) in order to be there early in the morning because Mum had to go to University College Hospital at 9 am the next morning to have a scan. After two miscarriages that year she is expecting another baby. She was well. Because we were up early I took you on the 73 bus to the Angel (tube station). You trotted very happily to the bus stop in Albion Rd., and were intrigued by the red and green men at the various crossings when we got off the bus. We went into Boots to have some photographs developed. The assistant took quite a while to write out the details. Meanwhile you inspected all the rows of films and other photographic equipment on the shelves as if they were very fascinating. Only occasionally I had to say: "Don't touch! Those are for Dada!"

When we were ready to go I looked around the shelves to try and find something that might be more interesting for you and found some children's cards. As you liked one with very colourful fishes I bought it for you. Together with its red envelope it was wrapped in cellophane. You carried it very proudly like that all the way home and would not think of putting it in my shopping bag. On the return journey we sat in the very front so you had an excellent view and seemed to enjoy it. When we got out at Albion Rd. I noticed that your right leg kept giving way and you kept tripping over. Perhaps you were tired by now. I carried you home. Mamma's car was parked outside which was a lovely surprise.

Later in the afternoon Mamma & I stuck coloured bells on the 'C' scale of the Glockenspiel: 'C' = red, then orange ('D'), yellow ('E'), green ('F'), blue, indigo and violet and back to red. You wanted them for yourself but I had taken the trouble to make a lot more than I needed so that you could have some. I had also written out "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" in large coloured notes. My idea is that you might be guided by the note to play the keys with the same colour. When I tried it out later on you were quite intrigued by it but kept hitting the note on the sheet rather than on the key. I also had made a mistake in the second line so I gave up. Your dad thought it was rather ambitious.

March 5th, 1999

He suggested that I should try it again next year! I'm not giving up yet. I shall make a new sheet with larger balloon type notes and simply put them in a long line. Perhaps you will find that easier to follow.

Now, when Mamma leaves, she always says: "Are you going to wave from your waving-chair?" Then you climb straight away into your Great-great-grandma's chair wave and blow kisses very expertly.

While we were away in Spain (Madrid, Salamanca, Toledo, 14-24 Febr.) you had your hair cut. Sue said she phoned and you were yelling in the background. Your Dad said: "I can't stand it any longer. Let's phone later" – but Auntie Sue wanted to speak to you on the mobile phone. She said she could hear you sobbing but you listened to her reminding you of all the things you had done in her flat. Then your Dad said: "That's it. It's all done!" So she had talked you through part of your hair cut and helped you to forget what was going on.

When I came to see you on Friday, 26 March, I brought you some French Smarties, 'lentils chocolat' in a little clear plastic case with a red top like a roof. You were very impressed as you love Smarties. It always amazes me how you hang on to them for hours, just looking at them, listing the colours, then finally opening the box, putting them into a dish and back again. You were delighted when I managed to close the box again by putting a strip of sellotape on it which I provided with a little rim, so that you could pull it off.

By contrast, in the evening your Dad came home with an imitation box of chocolate sardines for you. They told you to go and show them to Grandma. (I was sitting in the sitting-room waiting for your Dad to bring a cup of tea.) You wanted me to open the box, then you proceeded to rip the chocolate silver paper off one sardine – I turned to the others. I said: "Oh, Sam, don't unwrap them all! You don't want to eat them now, do you?" You had a very impish expression on your face, nodded and said: "Ya!" Later I heard your mum say: "No, Sam, you can't eat those now. You'll have to put them in a very safe place and then you can have them after you have had your tea." So, you seemed quite happy to store them in the box again and look at them with delight while they were standing in the middle of the table.

April 1st, 1999

Your mum made another call about your hearing test and was told you would get a date in 8 weeks time.

In the afternoon we went to the little shoe shop, at the back of "Encore" and I bought you a pair of lovely blue, sturdy sandals. We had been to have your feet measured in the morning but as there was such a choice of shoes I felt I ought not to buy any on my own. It so happened that your mum chose the ones I would have chosen in the morning.

On the 12 March Grandpa came up in the afternoon to see you. Your mum asked whether he might be able to put up your new big bed and he agreed. First, he put up your tent in the sitting room which you asked for. At about 5.30 pm Binny came (David and she were going out to a meal nearby). You were very excited by all this activity and Grandpa's smarties. To my amazement you kept handing one after the other to Binny who tried to hide them and put them back though she had to eat some. Grandpa had quite a job because the bed had to be assembled from lots of small parts and he didn't have the right screwdriver until your mum managed to borrow one from some neighbours. At last the bed was ready. For inspection, your cot still parked along the other wall. You got on it and jumped up and down obligingly. As it was late – after 7 pm – your dad took us to Liverpool Street station. We had to get up early to travel to St. Ives next day for our yearly stay at Casa Bella, a lovely holiday flat overlooking St. Ives Bay and Godrevy Lighthouse.

From there we phoned in order to hear how you had liked your new bed. Apparently you took ages to go to sleep and were upset when your dad put the cot away the next day. But you got used to it. On Friday 26 March we both came again so that Grandpa could fit the two drawers which go under the bed. They have very smart red shells on each side.

In the morning we had to take you to a hearing test at the Warmicott Centre which was very nicely equipped with all sort of toys and play areas. You pressed the button by the lift door, then walked in quite happily and out again upstairs where more toys awaited us. Fairly soon you were called and your mum asked whether I could come in as well. You wanted to rummage in my handbag so we kept busy with my collapsible brush and mirror while your mum answered all the questions the doctor put to her:

How many words could you speak? She decided on 10 words which could be readily understood by anyone. Of course you say far more but one has to be with you a lot to know what you mean. Even I find it quite hard now because I only see you every 2 weeks. Do you have a lot of colds?, Is there any history of hearing difficulties in the family?, etc. Then we all moved over to sit near a little table on which the lady placed a wooden lorry. The 8 or so little men sitting in it were taken out and you were told to take one in your hand, then wait for a noise and the little man could go and sit in the lorry. At first you were so eager to fit them back in that you had to be told that the little man had to wait for the noise. Then it went smoothly. You loved it and heard even the faintest noise. The procedure was repeated with another measuring device. The doctor, who wore a hearing aid himself, was very pleased with the result and said, as I recall, that you could hear as little as 30 decibels. Next he sat opposite you at the little table and asked whether you wanted to see his toys. You said: "Ya" as you tend to. He produced a tree asking: 'What's this?' You said: 'Tee', then a cow: 'Cow'. A house again you said that you call it (how?) and a key (tee?). But one knew that you recognized the correct cards for them. So he started to whisper: "What is this? Where is the house?" You whispered back: "Tee!", and pointed to it. Eventually he just whispered the name of the object, and finally he placed a wooden, round frame which had some white material stretched across it in front of his mouth and nose, so that you depended only on hearing his voice. By then it was so faint that I couldn't hear the last word "house", but you did! We are delighted! After that you had both ears checked to see whether they still had fluid in them, but they were both clear. What a relief! Your mum was absolutely thrilled. It was as if a weight had been lifted and we all relaxed, letting you play with the toys downstairs. You climbed in a rocking-toy (a duck?) and sang "See saw Majorie Daw" which is your latest song. I told your mum how different this hearing test would have been if it had happened when I was a child. Nobody gave much thought to a child-centred approach then and the doctors would have got annoyed if the child had screamed! Grandpa's mother was put into an isolation hospital when she had scarlet fever and her mother was only allowed to look through the window and wave. Your great-grandma had never been away from home. So we agreed that many things, this being a major one, have got better over the years.

We hope that you will soon be given some speech therapy so that you can catch up on a stage which you obviously missed out on while your hearing was impaired and distorted.

I noticed some time ago that you don't draw much now. Your obsession with balls seems to have stopped, though you still like to have balloons and you aren't quite so mad on umbrellas now. Other interests have taken over. You have a terrific number of toys and books, and, I presume, you go out a lot with 'Big Sam', your nanny.

April 15th, 1999

At Easter you all, including Auntie Sue, flew to Frankfurt from Stansted to visit Uwe & Lilo. I phoned on Easter Sunday. Immediately you came to the phone to cry: "Happy Easter, Ramma!" Sue said you had also learnt to say "Heidelberg", where you went on Friday, and "Uwe". Although we all thought you might enjoy the flight your mum reported that you were indifferent to it, though you loved the lifts and escalators.

The following week-end you came out to our house for lunch on Sat. and immediately started exploring it. You can now open all the doors, including the back door. In the kitchen you loved the door under the sink which makes a squeaking noise and brings out the rubbish bin, opening the lid. You took great delight in placing your nappy into the bin. (This week had been designated as a potty training week but your parents didn't want the hassle. You'll be ready for it soon, I'm sure!) As soon as you set foot in the kitchen you spied a packet of little chocolate Easter eggs which I thought were well hidden! So Mamma offered to hide one. She placed it on the corner latch of the corner cupboard to the left of the sink and helped you by saying you are getting warmer. Once you had found it she suggested that you shd. hide it. You loved the game but always hid it in the same place as she or I had just used. A good example of learning by repetition!

Another thing that fascinated you was the pond and the fountain. I found you sitting on the little wall by the pond when I fetched something from the kitchen as we were having breakfast next morning! Grandpa and I were too scared to let you play there unattended, while your parents kept saying: "He needs to be able to explore! We'll keep an eye on him!" We discussed that one probably gets more concerned about risks when one is older (which was confirmed in a programme on 'risk' the very next days!). Grandpa is going to make the well safer for when you come next time – then you can play in the garden on your own. We solved the problem of the stairs by Grandpa tying a deckchair (metal frame) across for the night.

You slept in my study on the settee for the first time with the cot placed against it, so that you wouldn't fall out.

On Sat. afternoon we all, except Mamma who needed a rest, went to Blake's Wood. At first you ran along very happily but soon you wanted to be carried. Later Grandpa and I hid some Easter eggs. You loved looking for them. Then I picked some primroses, bluebells, and wood anemones for you to take to Mamma. You held them very tightly until you could hand them over. When I wanted to use my washing-machine on Monday it didn't work. After some investigation I found that you had put the child-proof lock on for me. I didn't even know it had one!

In the afternoon, while your parents were lying in the deck-chairs you went to the well again and taunted them by going very close. Apparently you put your right foot over the side and lost your balance in such a way that your foot and leg went in (perhaps at the point where there is the basket with watering plants?). You screamed and they retrieved you! Will you ever be tempted again?

April 13th, 1999

On Tues. 13 April Mamma & I took you to the Speech Therapy assessment. It hailed and rained, so we decided to go by taxi, but he came 20 mins. late, then drove past the health centre, next took us to the car park and parked in a puddle and then he didn't have any change. So we gave him £2 instead of £3.50 and then didn't have any change for the bus on the way home. We had to get off again! It was one of those occasions.

Upstairs the waiting area was very sparsely furnished. For children there was one boring book on pigeons and a box with dirty jigsaw pieces.

Very soon the speech therapist called us into her room. She showed you some toys and settled down to asking Mamma all sorts of questions, both general and relating to speech. After a while she asked you to come and put some shapes into a wooden box, which you did without the slightest hesitation. The jigsaw was dealt with in a similar way. Questions like "what is this?" were answered with "poon" (spoon). I don't think you could reply "cup" or "plate". Next she placed several things on the table and asked: "Where is the cup?" You pointed and said: "There!" Then she got out other objects, accompanied by exclamations: "Oh, things are never there!" or "No, I won't do that!" She seemed either nervous, scatty, badly organised, or overworked, and didn't give one much confidence. Now she said: "Samuel, put the spoon into the cup!", which you did. When it came to "put the dolly into the box" you got stuck because you had just said "Yaddy Daddy" to your mum and pointed to the little figure which reminded you of Daddy! Your mum pointed and named it the "little person" and a little later you put "the little person" into the box with ease. Next, to our amusement, you even put the spoon under the plate etc.

Things did not go well with activities. You had no answer to: "What is the man doing?" (reading, eating, sleeping, ...), I recall. Then the lady produced a piece of paper, muttered "I wish we had some coloured pens", and proceeded to draw a line. "Can you do that?" At first you wanted to be more adventurous but eventually you drew a good straight line parallel to hers. As she was making a note of this, you took the other pen and produced a kind of snail's house. "Oh, you can do circles as well," she said, but that was not part of the testing procedure. Instead, she decided to play with you, as she said she hadn't really heard you speak. She also said: "I notice he doesn't listen. He doesn't respond to his name." Mamma then enlightened her as to what you were normally called! This seemed to be potential for a lot of misunderstandings. I felt it would have been much more sensible for her to let you play with your mum and listen to you then. Unfortunately she had decided to play "dolls" with you, because your mother had answered her question earlier on: "Yes, he plays with dolls."

Auntie Sue had just bought you a doll, in Germany, but you hadn't really played with it so she meant. So she had to keep asking: "Do you think the doll is hungry? ... wants a bath? ... wants to be washed?" etc. You replied: "Yee" (yes) as you do and then proceeded to do what she wanted but you didn't speak. She was rather at a loss, having already spent over an hour with us. A little conversation developed during which we could fill in a few things. It emerged that she thought you might have a "language delay" rather than a "speech delay" which would have to be dealt with in the autumn once you are 3 yrs old. She suggested that she would see you again and assess whether you needed to be placed in a language or speech group. Her general advice was not to be directive but to let you take the lead and help you by accompanying your actions with words if you don't have them yourself. She thought there was "a lot of jargon", i.e. nonsensical language. I think it might sound like that but quite often it means something very specific to you. I think your mum was right in observing that your speech seems to have regressed. Probably all the changes and the change-over to Big Sam has something to do with that. The speech therapist thought contact / playing with other children of your age is important and that a nursery school should help. On the way home we talked about it all and decided it might be sensible to have another assessment privately in order to feel reassured.

When we arrived at home you chatted the whole time. You are never as quiet as you were there!

April 16th, 1999

I had just finished writing the above then your dad phoned to say that you would, all being well, have a baby sister! What wonderful news! They went to the last scan today and everything appeared to be fine, and he is glad that he went with your mum. You wanted to take the opportunity to speak to Grandma and wouldn't let go of the phone. We said good bye at least 5 times! Perhaps you are excited too because of the general excitement!

May 1st, 1999

The next day, 1 May, you all, including Auntie Sue, came out for lunch. We had been very uncertain when to meet up for a long week-end which was meant to be relaxing for all and everyone would join in the walks. Alternatively your Mum had had a very bad night and both of you still had terrible colds. It would have been better to cancel the whole thing but then it had also involved so much co-ordination with Sue, for instance, and preparation. Anyway, we were all tired, Sue & your Mum probably most so. I took you to the recreation ground on Sunday morning but you were very listless and not your usual self, although you liked the merry-go-round and the little house. In the afternoon we went to Lingwood where I presented you with your first "Pusteblume" – a seedhead of a dandelion. You looked "a picture", as your great-grandma would have said; blowing at it and being delighted with the result. After that everyone had to search for more seedheads throughout the week-end, and when I took you to Clissold Park on the following Friday you found one yourself and ran to pick it. You hadn't forgotten!

Your dad's lovely evening meals were the highlight of the week-end for the grown-ups.

At Clissold Park on Friday, 7th May, you played very happily with one of your big bells we had taken. You also went up the "wobbly stairs" again and I showed you how to slide down part of the sliding pole. We both watched a little boy of 4 who came down expertly. A little later, while I was sitting on a bench at quite a little distance from the slide, I encouraged you to go and play on it. I said you could call "Hello, Grandma" and wave. You didn't do that but you went off and used the slide on your own and coped with other children being there too. We waved to each other. Then we had a swing, with me saying "Hello" in a deep voice when you came towards me. We used to do that at Brook Green when you first used the swing, and you still like it. But the best part of the swing area for you is the gate which fascinates you, i.e. its lock does. You keep opening it, let it shut (it's on a spring), stand back and blink when it bangs, then you push the big bolt across, opening it again when someone comes through. It seems as if you would do this for hours if I didn't get impatient to move on.

May 11th, 1999

On Tues. 11 May, I came up because your mum had made appointments with the nurseries of Grasmere School and William Patten which is the school of your catchment area. We went to the Grasmere Nursery first. The young teacher in charge had to put out some play things in the play ground first in order to send most of the children out. Inside, a little Persian boy was supposed to copy a picture from the caterpillar book which you have as well. Some others are playing rather boisterously with a computer game and another group was meant to stick little bits of material on to a big piece of paper to make a sunflower. I was a little frightened by the way the children charged around the playground and imagined you there. There are some helpers but they seemed untrained. The teacher talked to your mum outside who liked this group, but I didn't, I'm afraid. I felt you might be better off at home for a while, or going to the other group.

We decided to walk straight on to the William Patten school, as there was plenty of time. There we could see several strange languages used for translations of common instructions: i.e. office, this way, please, follow the sign etc. When we arrived in the room of the nursery group the children are gathered round the teacher who showed them the various snails the children had all made earlier from plasticine. The teacher was very reserved and seemed put out by our presence. The helper, a nursery nurse, was more forthcoming and talked to us while the other teacher went out into the playground with most of them. There seemed to be quite a lot of children who couldn't speak English.

I liked the set-up better than Grasmere but your mum didn't like it at all. So we had totally opposed views this time. Basically, I am unhappy about either of them. Your mum gave me the Ofsted report for the William Patten school to read and I found that the nursery school had been found "unsatisfactory" 2 years ago. One criticism was about the lack of facilities in the playground, which I'm sure had been remedied because I was surprised how sturdy and good the facilities were. But it also said that the teachers did not challenge the children enough and set clear targets for teaching. As the shy teacher had been there for 20 years she clearly wasn't dynamic enough and I had learnt from the helper that the other teacher was on maternity leave, having taught there for 9 years! They said they normally had students there to help them.

It also emerged from the report that 20 different languages are spoken by the pupils at the school! ??% speak English as their second language and ??% have free school meals, which is above the national average. The picture for Grasmere is not much better. We haven't seen an Ofsted rep. for the Nursery. In any case that wouldn't apply as the young teacher in charge has only been there since September – her first job. In the main school the quality of the teaching is praised, so that pupils can, on the whole, make up for their late start. In both schools the children are at a disadvantage in Key Stage I and at the nursery stage. I found the thought of your going there rather depressing.

May 21st, 1999

On Friday, 21 May, I came up to look after you for the last time at this stage, as you'll be starting at the Montessori school next week. Your mum left us at about 9.30 and said she would go to work after her analysis because she had a court case to prepare. She took some things for her lunch. After she had left we read quite a few books and sang nursery rhymes. When I went upstairs to look for the German nursery rhyme book, which seems to have been put away with some other things since the move, you pointed to your books on the cupboard in your room and said something urgently. It seemed quite a long sentence but I couldn't understand it at all. Only later when you repeated the same phrase as we came to "Pussy cat, pussy cat where have you been" I realised that that's what you had been saying and that this seems to be your name for this book!

As the sun was shining we had a little picnic on the bench in the garden. Then I pointed and said: "Look a bumblebee!" You repeated "bumblebee" several times correctly. You appeared to like the word. We also found a snail, which we put down on a leaf on the slabs. By the afternoon it hadn't moved far, but you fetched me to show it to me again. You had a cup of cocoa, which you very expertly helped me make, and then we decided to take the tricycle and go round the block. After quite a lot of practice you could actually cycle, though not straight, but you were tired and wanted to be carried. (Your dad thinks that's because you want attention, but I worry you lack strength. You have been quite run down lately because of four colds.)

When we got back to the house you had to ring the bell and you wanted to open the door with my key although you can't quite do it. Finally we got in. I left the door open to get back in after fetching the tricycle, but you came and quickly banged the door shut. So you are inside with the keys! My first reaction was: "Oh what a nuisance, but I can phone Rebecca to come home!" Then I realized that my purse with the phone was also inside. So I spoke through the door and told you to go upstairs to the bathroom and get your plastic "step", which you did. I asked you to place it by the door, stand on it, and try to pull the door open, which you couldn't do! So I said I would go next door to see the lady. (I was worried that you would cry but you appeared quite calm.)

Next door I introduced myself and asked for some string. The lady was worried about the cat escaping. She shut the door and promised to find some. I came back and a little later she handed me a ball of pyjama cord. I tied it round the flap of my leather case for my glasses, did the button up and sent this down to you through the letterbox which is a vertical one and quite high up on the door. I said: "Sam, open the little bag, put Grandma's keys in and do the button up. When you are ready call: 'Ready!'" (If you do that then you hide!) Nothing was to be heard for quite a while. I called: "Are you ready?" No answer. So I pulled at the string, but you pulled too! Finally you let go and I pulled the spectacle case up through the letterbox. I noticed immediately that the button was done up – a good sign! And I didn't really expect to find the keys in it, yet there they were! So I was able to unlock the door and praise you for being such "a clever boy!!!" We went next door to take the cord back and the lady praised you too. She was amazed! When we told your mum & dad later on, your dad said: "I'm 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.

May 30th, 1999

I forgot to mention much earlier on that at some point on a Friday this spring your mum, you and I went to a private nursery school (Small Steps?) off Church Road almost opposite the library. We had an appointment at 11 am. The lady in charge, a Swede, greeted us and took your mum round the small premises while you and I stayed in the main play and reading area. It all seemed nicely set up, furnished well, and there was a friendly atmosphere but when we discussed our impressions afterwards I said that the helpers didn't inspire me with much confidence. One was black, the other Asian, they just sat there and only got up once to straighten a rug and then again when one of the boys, who was pretending to be a cat growling at you, got too threatening. Perhaps they were waiting for lunch which was due to be served and we had caught a quiet period. I felt that they should have been engaged with a group of children. Some of the toddlers were meanwhile having a session of gymnastics (which had to be paid for separately). Your mum said the lady in charge was particularly proud of the splendid toilets and washing facilities. She didn't say anything about the development of the children.

On the 27 April I came up early to meet up with you and go to the Primrose Montessori Nursery school. When we parked in front of it and got out of the car you were ready to charge across the road although your mum got very cross. She said you try to do that now. (When I was with you on the 21 May by contrast you were concerned to hold my hand as we walked along the pavement. Obviously something you had been taught and learnt!) – When we entered the Primrose play area you seemed quite at home and went off to look at various things and played. I thought it was a good sign. Although the premises in an old church seemed a little shabby, the atmosphere was very good. We were perhaps seeing it in a very light because there were few children but those who were there played happily and purposefully. I got a strong sense of everything being guided by clear aims and objectives. (I intend to read a book on Montessori's principles but believe that they are meant to make children independent and responsible for themselves.) We saw one little girl who was, apparently, doing a 'transfer' exercise. She was carrying a large tray with all sorts of things on it, including a bowl full of cones. One helper, I spoke to, said that she had been there for about 5 years and loves it. She was rolling out dough and making shapes with some children. We also saw a little group doing gymnastics in a room off the main hall. The young lady, who showed us round, daughter of the owner, seemed very well informed and able to answer any queries very frankly. I also liked their menu which was displayed on the notice board. Anyway, our impressions were very favourable and it looks as if you are going to start there 3 afternoons a week this coming month i.e. beg. of June. Before making this decision your mum, you and I had also been back to Maggie's play group to consider that as an alternative. However, although we liked going there with you and other mothers, we did think that there were a lot of children and not all that much guidance through play. Maggie seemed under a lot of stress. It so happened that she was making a butterfly house i.e. attaching chrysalises to the walls of a lovely cardboard house with butterfly picture. But of course the children couldn't really help. They had to be told not to touch. There was a little Asian boy who played very much on his own. He also smelt as if he had a dirty nappy – again I don't know who could have changed him. Everyone seemed stretched with what they were doing.

On the 27 April Cornelia, my cousin who lives in Australia, one of Uncle Otto's children, came out to see you in the afternoon. Grandpa and I had met her in central London to have lunch. He came over with Sue to join us all later and I was assigned to give you a bath that evening while your mum went to her therapy. I put you to bed and sang you your favourite nursery rhymes before your dad took over.

On the following Friday (30 April) your mum had the car, so we went to a music group. I could see that you are much more at ease now in the presence of other children. I liked the music group very much. Afterwards we had a drink downstairs and you had crisps. You were very eager to put the wrapping in the big rubbish bin – one of the things you are keen to do at the moment. Then we went into another hall where you could play on soft plastic toys and climb around. Your mum said you had been several times, perhaps also with Oma? Anyway, you seemed to like it.

June 30th, 1999

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" all through, but that sounds quite unlike the proper words – something like "neat, neat, ere a u een" 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 term and therefore missed a lot of the general introductions.

I shall be very intrigued to see how things develop. I read a book by Maria Montessori who was born in 1870 and graduated as the first Italian woman doctor in Rome in 1894. She subsequently worked with mentally retarded children and helped them to make so much progress that she then tried some of her method on normal children in a 'school' run by the owners of tenements who did not want the many unsupervised infants to ruin the walls and paint of the buildings. The book sounds very odd and old-fashioned in parts, particularly in its American translation, but I was fascinated by several of her observations. One, in particular, I have observed with you and this is her contention that very young children (2-4 years old) get very involved in specific activities and repeat certain 'operations' many times. You did that yesterday, for example, when you shut the sitting room door many times. You banged it, you banged it very quietly as Mum suggested, you turned the knob to try and see how it works. Montessori reports the example of a little girl getting totally engrossed in fitting the different cylinders into the various holes (you have that wooden toy from your dad when he was a toddler). The little girl is reported to have repeated the 'operation' over 20 times, totally oblivious of anything that was going on around her, as if she were in a different state or a trance. Finally she finished, smiled and looked very satisfied. She had obviously mastered it to her satisfaction.

I had a feeling that you had already learned the so-called 'transfer' exercise at school because you carried quite a large round tray with 2 handles full of plates, some marbles, your sandals, down both stairs without needing to look where your feet were going.

I was also pleased to notice at school how a very young boy like you fetched a big broom and started sweeping up the raisins and other bits under the table when you had finished your tea. Quite a big group of tiny tots had meanwhile settled down in the reading corner without a teacher being present. They were all looking at some books, and when we went out a boy of about 10 years old who had come down the stairs, struggled to put a chain on the door for us so that we could get out with the buggy. Then he waited outside and said he would shut the door again after us. These are the kind of incidents I would expect in a Montessori School after reading the book!

July 18th, 1999

Großmutti's visit to your new house.

"Großmutti", as we call her, came to stay with us from the 14-23 July. On the 18th we had tickets for a concert (Promenade) at the Albert Hall and had arranged to come out to Stoke Newington so that she could see you all and see your new house. We arrived at 4 pm. You had been to a barbeque and were just coming back. It was extremely hot, so you were just wearing a pair of dark blue pants, like swimming trunks. Apparently this was your first day of serious potty training! (In fact when we met at the picnic in Regent's Park had brought a green potty. You would be asked occasionally whether you wanted to wee, we would all close our eyes and wonder whether there would be anything in the potty? Yes, there was. We all had to clap!)

Großmutti had brought quite a few packets of Gummibären and some Schokolinsen. She also brought you a puppet called Max. Your mum put her fingers in and made Max nod and clap. You watched intently then proceeded to imitate her, at least with the index finger and after a while Max nodded. You were delighted. Großmutti kept tickling your back which you tolerated, and then seemed to like. In the kitchen, after we had had a cup of tea and some cake, you put a tape on for us on your new little radio i.e. recorder (complete with karaoke facilities!) you dealt with the tape as swiftly as if you were an expert. (Mum said it had taken you a long time to master it.) Even when the tape came out in a loop you just stuck your index finger into the hole in the middle and wound it back. It was sweet to watch, also nice that you provided us again with music. Although you had said 'no' at first to the suggestion that you would show Großmutti your bed-room you agreed towards the end of our visit and went to hold her hand in order to fetch her. She was very surprised how outgoing and friendly you were. I notice upstairs that you get involved in one specific activity and concentrate on that, just as you have done for a long time now.

Großmutti thought you were very sweet, and she thought your mum is very charming. She said: "I can see why Christopher married her."

Later at the Albert Hall she was absolutely thrilled and declared the concert to have been the best of her life! We had seats in the choir so that we could follow the conductor and watch the players and singers. It wasn't so good from the music reception point of view, but it was touching to see how, at the age of 76, she can still get so thrilled.

July 24th, 1999

We met in Regent's Park in the early afternoon to celebrate Grandpa's and your dad's birthday because you are going to Yorkshire on that day.

We had driven to Auntie Sue's to collect her and she drove us from there, complete with all the necessary equipment, including two deck-chairs (still with L plates after about 4 years' driving!) to Holland Park Avenue. There we parked and Grandpa sat in the car while Auntie Sue and I went shopping. It was nice to be back in an area which I used to love when I came up to see you. We went to Maison Blanc and the rather exclusive supermarket nearby and stocked up for the picnic. Grandpa had ordered a special fruit flan from Sainsbury's and I had made a cherry flan. When we arrived, laden with all the goodies and glasses, plates etc. you were all sitting on a little hillside near some sculptures you were wearing your jellies (plastic sandals), very long shorts and a T-shirt. At first you were a little shy but your curiosity won. You spotted a bag of "Gummibären" in Auntie Sue's basket. We managed to make them disappear again for the time being and you got busy helping to put things on the blanket and table cloth and then started to eat. A little later you unwrapped presents for Dada and Grandpa. I remembered that I also had one for your baby sister to give to Mamma (a pair of bootees from Tante Renate who had stayed with us earlier in the months). You took the present but threw the bootees dismissively towards your mum. Then you told her that you wanted a present too. I remembered the bag of "Gummibären", wrapped them in some old paper and you were pleased to find them again. You are still quite careful with sweets and only eat one or two at a time. I noticed that you developed a strategy: You went to a tree to hide and when you came back you allowed yourself a bear, also you gave one to your dad quite happily when he asked for one.

We all enjoyed the lovely summer weather, the beautiful view of elegant houses outside the park and watching people play nearby or stroll around. You went off to explore and to hide. Soon, however, it was time to leave because you had been up early. So you came to the car with us and waved. We drove back to Sue's, tidied and washed up. Then we all went back to Boreham together, because Auntie Sue was on holiday and stayed with us for the next week.

July 31st – August 7th, 1999

You went to the Yorkshire Moors, to a cottage somewhere near Kirkbymoorside, in the Farndale valley. (Uncle Peter told me on the phone that his grandfather used to go there on a Sunday from Scarborough to preach in the Methodist chapel as a lay preacher.) Oma & Opa had taken the cottage for 3 weeks, as they did last year, and you went for the middle week. On Monday your dad phoned to say that you had chicken-pox and could I remember whether he had had them. I could remember Auntie Sue having had them with certainty because she had a big scab in the middle of the 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 10 and pronounced the 'drei' like a German – also you 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 3 weeks. According to your dad it looks great.

August 18th, 1999

Today is your 3rd birthday. I was with you yesterday for the day. Mamma went shopping and came back with a chocolate cake for the Montessori Nursery group in the afternoon and a beautiful Winnie-the-Pooh cake for today's celebration with big Sam and other children.

You greeted me yesterday, wearing just a T-shirt as you are still doing your potty training but getting on very well. You were delighted when I told you about having come with my new bag, a black one which Auntie Sue bought for me. Immediately you unzipped the big zip and got out the various things I had brought, among them our present, a special spinning device for painting, i.e. dribbling & spinning pictures. Mum & Dad agreed that you could open it. The instructions on the box about wearing a painting overall were such that I had brought a plastic apron for myself, just in case! You were quite amused by this and ready to put a plastic apron on yourself! (still no pants!). We read the instructions, you learnt how to spin and you opened the paint bottles one at the time and dribbled. The result was quite appealing. Dad asked for one of the little pictures to take to his office. You also chose one for me to take home. You liked the combination of having to unscrew paint bottles, close them again, seeing the spinning picture and, of course, the spinning. No one else was allowed to do that but you kept asking sweetly: 'Would you like to do it, Mamma?' then when she came you changed your mind.

I was delighted how much your language had improved! You really use sentences now, and you ask questions, repeatedly as children do. 'Where are you going?' is such a favourite that Dad has resorted to the answer: 'To the moon!' even big Sam has apparently. Or you ask: 'What you doing?' all with a sweet and natural intonation. You still can't pronounce a lot of sounds but I'm sure the speech therapist, whom your parents have to see tomorrow, will say that there is a big improvement. When we came back from the Montessori group in the afternoon you said in the car: "We won't need to ring the bell!" or something to that effect.

And while you are opening my black umbrella – which you can do now – you accompanied the proceedings with a stream of explanations. Again I could mainly guess at what you said, but you gave the impression of communicating your thoughts on the matter in great detail.

When we fetched you from the Montessori group you had just had your chocolate cake and had to be thoroughly washed after that. So you wanted Mamma to come and wash her hands in a little basin. Then you gave her a little paper towel to dry them. We were almost out of the door when you decided that Grandma had to wash her hands! So back we went and I repeated the procedure, got my little paper towel, dried my hands and we were ready to leave. Earlier on Mum had talked to Natalie and asked whether it would be alright for you to go to the group in the morning in Sept. She had no hesitations about it. Obviously you are much more settled now.

At lunch time I was told what a big success Max, the handpuppet, has been. Especially at first you burst into laughter at everything he does. He is inclined to do all the naughty things you are not allowed to (such as operating? or touching the Microoven). I asked whether Max sleeps in your room, but no, he has to sleep in the kitchen. Every morning though, you enquire about Max first thing.

According to your dad you are very good at using your tricycle now. You took it to Hampstead Heath in the car and then cycled there while your mum had to do some work at home the other day.

Yesterday afternoon Mum and I finished sorting out your toys into the new toy racks (with boxes) from Ikea, then she had a rest and I washed the floor and washed some of your earliest toys, ready for your little sister. Your room is beginning to look very nice now, specially with the new yellow paint. It reminded me of Dad's and Auntie Sue's 'nursery' as we called it. That was painted in the same yellow for years. Now you need a carpet and proper curtains.

September 4th, 1999

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 nos. 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", "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!

Auntie Sue reported that you all went to Regent's Park to have a picnic lunch on Saturday. Because your poor mum felt so tired they decided not to mention the word 'zoo' any more, but you hadn't forgotten their promise that Auntie Sue would take you there. So everyone went, i.e. they took you there. Sue said you had been given a map of the zoo and kept sitting down in order to consult it and to point out where the giraffes were. When you tripped and fell down your only concern was not for your leg but for the map, in case it had been spoiled. I wonder whether you will (or have) inherited Grandpa's gift for map reading and his excellent sense of directions?

September 6th, 1999

Still no news of the baby. If nothing happens before then it will be induced on Wednesday (8 Sept), a postponement from today.

September 12th, 1999

At last your sister arrived: at 3:49 am on 7 Sept. 99. Auntie Sue arrived by taxi to be with you and slept there. Next morning when your father phoned to give us the news at 7:20. He said: "Sam has decided to sleep through it all!" You went to see the baby at UCL Hospital then were put to bed. Your mum only came home after 9 pm.

Of course we had followed events via the phone with great excitement and were eager to see your sister but also your reaction. In some ways you weren't particularly interested. Big Sam, your nanny, was there when we arrived. There was great laughter coming from the sitting-room. You appeared, hot and sweaty, very excited by all these goings-on. Later you stroked the baby with a soft white feather I had wrapped up as a present. You did this very vigorously. A good job it was a feather!

Of course photographs had to be taken – Mamma and the baby from all angles. When she encouraged you to be in the picture you declined. Her suggestion that you might sit on the chair and hold the baby was met with one of your gasps of joy which I love! You sat down immediately. The baby was dangling in front of you, on your lap. I hope it turns out well as the first photo of you both.

Update: It did! See next page.

October 10th, 1999

I came to be with you again 2 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 2 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 5 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!

Apparently Mum tucks you in a special way after you have laid under the duvet.

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 5 mins. "Dada (something something) too!" 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 make only 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.

November 30th, 1999

Grandpa and I went on a holiday to America from the 13 Oct. 20 Nov. (10 days on the East Coast, then San Francisco, Yosemite Park, Death Valley, Palm Springs, San Diego, Los Angeles, where we went to Disney Land and had a photo taken with Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse for you, San Simeon, Monterey, Santa Cruz, Stanford (Univ.), San Francisco again and four days in New York before coming home).

So I hadn't seen you for a very long time when I made my first visit last Tues. (23 Nov). Grandpa wanted to come too but you had colds again (the whole family) and he was concerned not to get one straight away. You were a little shy when you came back from your Montessori School. Then you asked Mamma: "What is in Grandma's bag?" I must explain that this is not how you sound. In fact it is very hard to understand you if one is out of practice. I got better at it though. Your Mum told me in the morning, when we were alone, that your language skills have improved greatly, i.e. you express your thoughts in long sentences but your speech is still very hampered by you not being able to say quite a few consonants. I was intrigued by the fact that when the 2 of us went up to your bedroom together you picked out 2 books for me to read.

One was a very early one with objects in specific colours. I told you how you used to point to the lemons on the table when we looked at the lemon in the book and go "hhhh" while pointing to it, so that I had to bring one over and put it next to the picture. You listened with interest. Then you gave me the Old Mother Hubbard book and – this is really the point I wanted to get to – when I read it and waited for you to finish the line, you could do it. "Old M.H. went to the cupboard to get her poor dog a..." – "bone", you said. In fact, it sounded to me as if you pronounced all those last words of the rhymes correctly. I shall have to do it again next week and pay particular attention.

It seemed to me that your speech becomes incomprehensible when you link a lot of words together and speak fast. For instance, a little while afterwards when we were all in the kitchen, you wanted your mum to think of something you had done with "ramma" "when I was little". This came out like "ee uh éuh". I couldn't possibly have worked it out but your mum did. Only you got very upset again.

Earlier on you said something about chocolates you had at Grandma's house. After a lot of guessing, Mum said: "Oh, do you mean the Easter eggs?" "Yes." You were very relieved that we had worked it out. I, on the other hand, was surprised that you remembered something you did at Easter when you were about 2 ½ years old. While you helped me stir the custard, your mum said: "You did that with grandma before." You replied: "That was a long time ago!" I can hardly believe that you could conceive of what you said. Perhaps it is a phrase your mum uses occasionally.

The main event of the day, one I had been waiting for, occurred in the afternoon as it was getting dark. Grandpa & I had seen a little boy in his pushchair at Disney Land, when it was getting dark, who was holding a torch with a head of Mickey Mouse on it. Mickey's face was lit up and from his head sprouted a bunch of optic fibres, like a plume, which twinkled in lots of different colours. We thought you would love that. Grandpa looked everywhere in the shops & stands to find one and did at last! I had told you we would have to wait until it was dark for your second present. In the end we decided to let the curtains down in your room, and you went down to the kitchen to fetch my bag. Then I told you and your mum: "Close your eyes. I'll count to three and then you can open them!" "One, two, three!" You were absolutely thrilled with the torch, had to try it at once, and then drove us nearly mad with repeating: "Close your eyes, Mamma. Close your eyes, Ramma! One, two, wee!" Every time we duly burst out into Ahs and Ohs!

At one point the plume had lost its colour! We were all very disappointed, but then Mamma unscrewed the torch and said: "Perhaps something has dropped out of this?" I suddenly remembered having picked up a little plastic disque from the carpet with coloured sections. That didn't quite work, until I also found a much smaller white disque. When your mum assembled them together the individual colours were restored again.

Before Dad came back, you had to practice it in the kitchen. You dragged your chair to the switch, stood on it, and dimmed the light: "Close your eyes" etc etc. It all started again – and then on one occasion, after you had said "one, two, wee" and lit the torch, you started turning round on your little chair, singing in a solemn voice: "Happy birthday to you ..." Mum asked: "Whose birthday is it then?" "Ramma's" was your reply.

Your dad didn't even have a chance to shut the front door after bringing in his bike before he had to shut his eyes and go through the whole performance.

When I phoned the other day and asked you whether you still like your torch, you ran off to fetch it and then told me, prompted by your dad: "It needs new batteries." (Unfortunately I couldn't understand you again.)

I really enjoyed seeing your delight in the torch and I was touched that you remembered the books we had read together. Incidentally, you also fetched your old music toy in order to play a tune which you had always done. I am no longer well informed as to what you can sing now. I must find out next time!

December 30th, 1999

Several things I must remember to record: About 2 weeks ago, in fact it was on the 13 Dec., you had another hearing test with the same doctor we saw before. (Dad went with you all because I couldn't be there.) Mum reported that this time the doctor found that your hearing in your right (?) ear is not 100%. You still have glue ear. The speech therapy continues.

I had a look at the pictures you work with. For instance there is a little series all about Sue or Susan and what she does: Susan feeds the goldfish and so forth. You are practicing 'd' 'd' 'd' 'drum', 'f' 'f' 'f' 'fish', 'house', 'd' 'd' 'd' 'dog' ('d', 'f', & 's'). When I asked you what the fish was, you said "ffffishshsh" with all your might, as if you had to empty your lungs. Mum says that she has been told by the speech therapist that you are very cooperative.

It was interesting to hear Grandpa's opinion when he saw you at Xmas. He hadn't seen or heard you since we were in Bournemouth together (10 Oct.), because right after we came back from America at the end of Nov. he caught a cold, and then you all had colds until Xmas so he didn't want to expose himself. He thought your language had improved tremendously. He even felt that it was much easier to understand your long sentences. I, too, had the feeling that you were clearer since I first heard you at the end of November.

It was lovely to see how you took to Grandpa although he hadn't been for such a long time. Someone had presented you with a doctor's kit, so Grandpa had to be examined. You told him "open your mouth" and checked with your mirror. He had to have an injection in his arm next, and his knee was subjected to a reflex test!

Of the presents you received – and there were almost too many – a red & blue kind of 'beetle' car from Auntie Sue was the best because you could make it go back and forth. It will take a little while till you can also direct it round, but you were thrilled. In fact Xmas was particularly enjoyable because you were so excited & delighted. You have always been generous with sweets and were so over Xmas. When you wanted to help yourself but felt that perhaps you shouldn't, I notice that you close your eyes and then take one in each hand before popping one into your mouth – probably because quite often you hand them out from behind your back. I suspect your mum does that. Perhaps she also says: "Close your eyes!" to make it more exciting. On Xmas eve you took some time to go to sleep but you didn't come down – you were singing to yourself!

Florence got a toy from Auntie Sue which lights up whenever a coloured star is taken off or put onto it. There are 4 of them. I was pleased to hear that it plays "Twinkle, twinkle little star" while it's switched on. Evidently you still like this because you played with the toy a lot and rocked sideways as if dancing as you used to do 2 years ago. Quite often you lifted it up for Florence so that she shd. see it twinkle.

When I was with you on the 21 Dec. so that Mum & Dad could go shopping we had a good time together playing in your room, downstairs, going to fetch some milk, playing on the xylophone glockenspiel and reading. You didn't cry at all when your parents went, nor in between, and I managed to understand you. I was so pleased. The week before we baked some Xmas biscuits. I had brought the dough which I rolled out, and you cut 2-inch pieces which I shaped into "moons" (Wiener Kipferl). They were very popular also with the little girl and her mother from next door who came to have a cup of tea. On that day you drew some excellent balloons for Grandpa, saying 'Happy birthday' which you wrote from right to left.

Your drawing skills have improved a lot too!! Of course, everybody praises you! So when you drew a Xmas tree like that, your Dad said: "Who taught you to draw it like that?" Your answer was simply: "I drawed it like that because I'm a clever boy!"

One thing which isn't so good: you have rather a nasty cough (had colds on and off) and wake up early (because of it?). Also you seem bathed in sweat during the nights. You might have to see a doctor.

January 13th, 2000

I'm going to Germany to your step-great-grand-mother, Ruth, and her brother, Willi (15-24 Jan.). Because the flu is absolutely rampant I decided not to come and see you this week, but I was there last week when your father was unwell and violently sick. You were very excited. It only occurred to me afterwards that you probably expected a present but you didn't say anything. Only after a while you asked your mum whether you could look into Grandma's bag. She encouraged you to ask me and, of course, I let you. Very soon you retrieved my German BacStift, a deodorant which smells of cologne and has to be unscrewed and then screwed up so that one can smell it. You occupied yourself with this for much of the time, saying: "I'll have another smell!" "Grandma, do you want another smell?" Then you would screw it down, screw the top on and leave it for a little while, and so on! When I gave you a bath you stuck letters on the side of the bath which were meant to spell S-A-M but had one or two other letters muddled up with them. You took one out and said: "No it's back to normal!" I said: "No, it isn't, because it's still got a 'Y' in it, but I was impressed at how you used the concept 'back to normal'."

You get very fed up with Florence at the moment when she gesticulates or kicks you with her legs. Mum had to explain that these movements are involuntary and her only exercise. You still weren't too happy. Though you were very good when I put you to bed because your Dad was sick, and then I had Florence with me. Once she started to cry I said good-night and told you I would go now so that she wouldn't disturb you. You seemed very grown-up about it all.

February 14th, 2000

We came to spend the Saturday with you to help a little. You were still shopping with your Dad when we arrived. Later when he put the shopping away he kept saying: "Oh, Sam was right when he said we needed that!" He told me that you are terrible for getting all sorts of things off the shelves and saying: "We need that!" So he had sat you in the shopping trolley and bought you Smarties to keep you quiet. He said he felt rather guilty about another little boy who was told he might have some after lunch if he was very good. You had selected a new toothbrush for yourself. When I got something out of the fridge you said to Mum: "Why can Ramma open the fridge door?" "Because she is grown-up." "Why?"

At some point you said that you wanted to go to the playhouse (not clearly enough pronounced for me but Mum explained and that you had been with Big Sam.) You charged into the kitchen took the A-Z of London from a shelf, opened it on some page and explained: "It's that way, that way and that way!" Grandpa was amused. I bet you take after him as a map reader!

You were absolutely full of beans. In particular you loved going to Grandpa and showing him things and explaining it all in a very detailed fashion. (Again, shades of Grandpa??)

At about 4 pm Mum, Dad and you left to drive into London to ride on the 'Big Wheel'. We had been invited to come but Grandpa suffers from vertigo now and didn't feel he could face it. I stayed behind as well in order to look after Florence. You came back very excited. Apparently you showed no fear at all and said you would like to jump into the river. Also you inspected a lot of the screws! Your dad reported that he felt a little queasy.

April 19th, 2000

From March 24th-27th you went (with Auntie Sue) to a holiday flat at Centre Parks near Bath. Sue had bought you a personal stereo set from the Early Learning Centre. They were all very amused, she said, to see you sitting in the back of the car with your earplugs in place, the tape in a little recorder on a belt round your waist, moving with the rhythm of the songs you were listening to. Apparently Dad, who had got a supply of Gummibären for the journey, tested occasionally how much you were focused on your tape by saying "Sam, would you like some Gummibears?", but you didn't notice. You are, in fact, very concerned to listen properly, and that others shd. listen or look. Yesterday when I was singing along with one of your nursery rhymes you said: "No, ramma!" and turned off the tape. Mum told me that you didn't like people singing along.

Before going to bed we all sat with you and Florence in the sitting-room to watch one of your "number" and "colour" tapes, which you wanted me to see because we had talked about numbers earlier when you did the new number puzzle (from the Tate St. Ives, a colourful caterpillar with 20 pieces and nos. 1-20 printed on them). I looked over to Florence occasionally, who was sitting on your Dad's lap, but you tapped me and said: "Good, ramma!" (I made a special effort to remember that you say 'good' instead of 'look' at the moment. There are quite a lot of consonant substitutions in your speech but I find it hard to work out which they are. I don't know either whether they are completely predictable. Probably not. Hence the real difficulties one has in understanding you at times.)

But to go back to Centre Parks: Sue said you really loved it. She was particularly amused how you came down on a big slide on your Mum's tummy and even wanted to do it again. Now you still remember the number of your holiday flat. Grandpa thinks it was 6/0/4.

Last Sunday morning (we had got back the night before from St. Ives where Auntie Sue had joined us this year) you phoned. I asked all sorts of questions: "Have you had breakfast? Is the sun shining? What are you doing today?" To my amusement I understood fairly clearly: "We're going to Grandma and Grandpa!" Dad explained that you had wanted to go out somewhere for the day and thought it would be nice coming out to us if you could manage some lunch. I had to do some quick thinking and Grandpa had to alter the shopping list but it was alright. You arrived at about 12 pm as agreed at the same time as Grandpa and his shopping. You were actually asleep, but once you had come somewhat to life you came in with Dad and went straight upstairs to see Klettermaxe. Later you ran around in the garden, asked Grandpa to show you the well because on one of your tapes there is a rabbit down the well. Soon you also had Grandpa put some water into the bath so that you could operate the bubble effect, and as a special treat he swivelled you around in his computer chair.

Another highlight of the visit was hiding Easter eggs in Blake's Wood and then some more at home. "Mamma, old [would] you like to find another Easter egg, Grandpa, Dada, Ramma ...." Each time you went to a different room to hide one. When you stood in front of the closed door of my study with Mamma – we were all sitting at the table downstairs – you said: "Are you frightened, Mamma?" You must have been very excited, far too excited to leave anyone to find their own egg! Before going home you had supper and a bath with Florence. Your parents were eager to see Florence's reaction but she was rather startled by the bubbles whereas for you it was the most exciting thing of the visit as your Dad told me yesterday: He said: "Sam enjoyed himself so much on Sunday!"

Yesterday when I visited you again Freya and her mum were there from next door. You played quite happily together until Freya pushed over the skittles you had put up for her. She didn't throw the ball as you had intended, so you sat behind the chair in the corner and cried quietly until the whole procedure was set in motion again and you could "teach" Freya how to do it properly. In the afternoon we went to the Warmicott Centre for Florence to have an injection. Unfortunately it rained on the way back. We were going to buy you new "jellies"* *plastic sandals for going to France after Easter but the shop was closed. I reminded you that I had some more Easter eggs in my black bag at home for hiding. Now it was really urgent to get back to the house! Later, we decided that ramma and Sam were going to hide the eggs upstairs. As we walked up the stairs you said to me: "I'm sooo excited!" I can never get over the fact how sweet and charming you are. Mind you, you can also be very headstrong and certainly play up your Mum & Dad at times.

We had just finished hiding 7 eggs (one had mysteriously disappeared) when Dad arrived in the car. He sat in it for a while probably to finish listening to the news or a tape. You kept shouting through the window "Dada, we are hiding eggs." Of course Dada wasn't quite as eager as you to search for eggs immediately and, again to my amazement, you were very patient while we had a cup of tea and Florence had her supper. Then the big moment arrived. Mamma wanted to get you accustomed to the routine of "cold" and "warm" but in fact you went and picked the eggs from the shelves where you had placed them into an obvious position and handed one to us, each of us.

After supper you and I went into the sitting-room where you wanted to assemble your new caterpillar. Number 1-10 are done very quickly, you saying aloud "1, too, vee, vour, wive, (s)itsc, (s)eften, eight, nine, ten". After that it gets more complicated (you can't say, or so). You can count "eleven, twelve" but then you leave out some or you say "one fourteen" or "four one". In fact, I noticed when you are writing earlier during the day that you write ~ or ~ up or down but not along the line, also from right to left. When you made your '6' like this I taught you 'O' and a stick 'd' which you rejected at once but then continued with '9'. Then you said: "That's a balloon."

After we had finished the caterpillar (you had) you asked about 20. No, first you said: "Why did you buy 2 presents?" and I explained because I didn't want Florence to be disappointed. And even if she didn't know now she might have asked later: "What did I get when you had the caterpillar?" That seemed to convince you. Then you asked: "Why is it 1-20?" "Well, so that you can learn the numbers 10-20 now. You know 1-10, don't you?" "Do you know how many toes & fingers you have?" We counted up to 20. Then I said how many toes have you? You counted: "Nine!" "Are you sure?" Soon you remembered your number tape. "I'll show you Ramma" and off you went to put a tape into the video and operate various remote controls. Usually you can work the video recorder but on this occasion we had to wait for Dada to sort it out.

Then we all settled down to the Number tape, which is the one with the rabbit in the well. You sat next to me on the settee. I wanted to put my arm round you but I felt you might not like it. A little later you leant on me. Then when Mamma sat down on the other side she put her arm round you at once and you snuggled up to her. After you had stopped the tape (because Dada had gone out and he wasn't to miss anything) you sat right between the two of us and put your arms round our necks, your legs on our legs, and we held your feet. You didn't want them to be tickled, just held! "What do you like about my feet?" you asked. "Well, they are nice and soft and clean." You keep asking questions. One recurring theme is supper and breakfast. "Do you like what you have for breakfast?", "What did you have?", "What did Grandpa have?", etc etc.

I was allowed to come up to say good night once Mamma had read to you. Then you suddenly asked "do you like hugging?", "do you like kissing?", "do you like loving?", or something like that. Mamma couldn't think what you meant. "Do it", she said, so you stroked your head. Yes, we liked everything. "Do you like hitting?" "No, I would be very cross", said Mamma. "Show me how you look when you are cross." I had to do it too. Then Mamma asked: "Would you be angry if someone hit you?" You paused for a while, then you said: "No, I would be upset."

Mamma came down a little later and said that you certainly knew how to keep these 'bed-time sessions' going!

One more incident I remember: You suddenly said: "Tiny is another word for small." Dada asked: "Who told you?" "No one told me."

Your parents spent part of last week going to all the schools in the neighbourhood. They liked Grasmere best. Apparently the headmistress seemed very much 'on the ball' but also had a warm personality. Now the big question is whether you should start (mornings only) in Sept. or in January, or whether you should be kept back until the following year then you are 5 years old.

Mum hasn't been too impressed with the Montessori school. At least, she feels they haven't done much to help you. I heard then that your nice teacher was off work for a long time, and that you have a different one now. Also Mum says the money will be running out in June for your private speech therapy. It is extremely hard to know what to do for the best. I think on the whole we are inclined towards keeping you from going to school for a little longer. On the other hand, if you could start mornings only that might be good. But it will be up to your mum and dad to decide.

May 21st, 2000

Yesterday I saw you all again. Grandpa had been up the previous Saturday because of Auntie Sue's kitchen being fitted. You sent 5 Gummibären back for me in an enormous plastic bag. Your dad is writing an article at the moment which he did at his room which he uses for his patients. I came to relieve Mum a little. She still looks very tired. No wonder, both of you are in your bed-room now and tend to wake each other up. Besides you wake up around 5.30–6.00 probably because Mum has started to go back to work (3 days a week) and you are a little perturbed.

I was delighted to see your house almost completely ready now. Most of the pictures are up, and the curtains. You are proudly opening and shutting your many-coloured curtains in your room, operating the cords. For the last few weeks you have had a cleaning-woman as well, a great help to your dad who otherwise had to do the cleaning at the week-end. She is called Olga, a Ukrainian and a former journalist. So, what with the dish-washer and Big Sam doing your and Florence's washing, your lives seem to be organised very well, making it possible, we hope, for Mum & Dad to relax a little more in the evenings and at week-ends.

We walked to Clissold Park in the morning. On the way Mum bought a little see-through rucksack for you with bucket, 2 spades, etc. which you tried out when we got there. You weren't very keen to let Florence share, I'm afraid. Later you showed Florence how to come down the slide, even while eating a rice biscuit. Then you both jumped or sat on the trampoline together.

At home again we had lunch in the garden which Opa has made look very nice by planting lots of lovely small and larger plants and bushes.

3 months earlier you asked me once: "How old are you Ramma?" You typed 66 into your calculator. Then you changed it to 3 and shared it and said: "No, you are three." "No", you said, "I typed in 3.5. I'm 3 and a half."

At some point you told me that you are now 3 ¾ years old. You are certainly very interested in numbers and remember that you live at 31, Harcombe Rd. Apparently Opa corrected you when you said Harcombe Rd. recently. Since then, according to your mum, you say quite pointedly: "I say Harcombe Rd [however you say it, which I can't recall]".

While I was with you, Mum decided to do some language work with you. You wanted to play a game. So she put pictures of various objects, or the objects themselves, on a trail through the landing and upstairs to your room. When you found a sock, you had to say 'sss-ock', etc. While you were having a bath you said 'soap' very well. Mum & I were both delighted and praised you.

The other thing I noticed was that you ask "why?" a lot. Also "what is that?", for instance at the greengrocer's picking up avocados or mangoes etc.

June 10th, 2000

Mum went to a reunion of her fellow students in Newcastle. Dad had asked me if I could come and help. Although he was brave enough to manage on his own overnight and on Sunday. I said I would sleep at your house and help him, particularly as he was recovering from a cold and suffered from hayfever. Apparently when he told you that I was coming you said: "Oh, that's a good idea. I like Grandma!" Of course I was very pleased to be told that!

Dad and I took quite a long time over everything, much longer than your mum, I'm sure. Particularly mealtimes were very protracted. However, we managed to get organised and go to Hampstead Heath in the afternoon, as the weather was beautiful. You chose your tape of Silly Songs for the car ("There was a crooked man", "Supercalifragilisticespialidocious", etc.). I liked them too. You sat there listening very attentively while Florence fell asleep. In the park you were supposed to play football with your dad, i.e. he was meant to kick it 'up to the clouds' as he had done the previous week. This time, however, you were in a rather uncooperative mood and kept sitting on it, throwing it in the wrong direction, or running away with it. Dad gave up and came to sit with me and Florence. He kept saying "he'll be here in a minute!" or "he'll run over to us as soon as he sees this dog!", and so you did. When we walked along the paths you would run straight towards someone coming towards us. They would be surprised but usually smile, as you smiled too. Once you did it with an unfortunate woman jogger who was quite put out!

When we got back to the car Dad bought an ice cream. Then we walked to Keats's house, where we sat in the garden for a few minutes and took some photographs. It was almost 5 pm and too late to go into the house.

You were ready for your supper: pasta, carrot salad and chocolate pudding. Afterwards we watched several of your 'Kipper' tapes (Kipper the dog!) and you fell asleep at my side. Florence, whom I had bathed before you, went to sleep quite happily too.

Then Dad cooked a very nice pasta meal for us while we relaxed and talked in the kitchen.

Next morning, when Dad went to see you at about 7.30 am, you were sitting up in bed. He said: "Do you remember who slept here last night?" "Auntie Udda", you beamed. "No, silly banana, it's Grandma!" We all went down to have breakfast, which seemed to take ages. You are always so involved with other schemes that you don't sit at the table long enough to eat up what is there for you. Florence seemed to be ravenous. Afterwards we went to buy some vegetables, with Florence in her pram, while Dad had a bath. Then it was almost lunch time. Here we ran into serious difficulties because you wanted '2 things you had for supper'. Dad concentrated on making pasta. I had suggested carrot salad earlier on but it wasn't clear whether you wanted some. Later you kept crying because things weren't right. Dad fried some sausages but, no, they wouldn't do. At long last I asked again about carrot salad. You were so relieved!

When I had made it, you suddenly got up from the table and ran to the cooler where I was. I bent down to catch you, and you gave me a big, spontaneous kiss. It's always such a joy when you have been understood at last! By now it was getting high time for us to get ready and go to meet your mum at 4.56 pm at Charing X stn. We made it after some nail biting on my part! I realised then that your dad is far more laid-back than even I am when it comes to allowing time. We walked into the station, with Florence in the buggy. Your Dad looked at the arrival board and said: "The train's just come in! It's at platform 6. How's that for timing?" And he beamed. So we walked across to platform 6. When you saw the train and all the people getting off you suddenly didn't want to go any further. We had to wait there. Mamma arrived very soon. She seemed so delighted to see you and Florence and Dada. It was lovely! We decided that we would all go to Liverpool St stn, so that you could see my train leave. We had a cup of cappuccino and you had Orangina. To your great delight there were little sugar dishes with lids on each table, one of which contained candied sugar. You helped yourself to several pieces, then went to another table and did so surreptitiously.

Also, you kept running up to people at the tables. Mamma said: "Now remember, Minkey, to say 'hello' when you run up to people." "Why?" "Because they might think you've just come to stare at them, and that's not very polite." So, off you went and said 'hello'. People seemed to be pleased!

As there was some time before my train left, your parents suggested taking some photographs in the little booth. You sat down on the chair and they took some of you, then held Florence into the picture. Of course we had to wait for 5 mins. for them to be developed, which left 2 mins. before the departure of my train! Again it was a question of your dad saying or implying: "How is that for timing?" You looked somewhat surprised when the train door closed automatically and I disappeared.

This week-end you said "Sam" beautifully, but then Dad asked "what is your full name?" and you said "Sam William Howard (R)obinson". You gave me 2 pictures to take back, one for me, one for Grandpa. Both are maps. One has my house on it and your house. But in general you decide what something is after it has been drawn. You don't say "I'm going to draw a map", or if we ask "what are you drawing?" you say "I don't know".

June 24th, 2000

Grandpa's birthday celebration.

As usual you loved the house, went upstairs, looked over the balustrade, and called "Hello, everybody!", and everybody had to come and acknowledge you. You remarked about Fiona's painting that you liked it and wanted to know: "Has it always been there?" "Yes", we said, meaning always during your lifetime. So you inquired: "Did it come with the house?"

When it came to opening Grandpa's presents, you took one to him and said: "You open it, so that I can see what is in it!"

July 4th, 2000

Your Dad told me on the phone yesterday that you had all had a nice week-end. Your parents took you to a Victorian fair at Clissold Park with a delightful old round-about. Dad said: "Rebecca & Sam went to have a ride and I was waiting to wave to them. I expected them to sit on a horse but then they were huddled on a bench!" I reminded him that he & Sue did exactly the same when we took them to Battersea fun fair. On Sunday, at the Natural History Museum where Dad had taken you as a treat, you rushed around pressing all the buttons but, when asked "what did you enjoy best?", you said "buying my pencil sharpener!" (Again, I think that is to be expected.)

July 30th, 2000

We came to be with you at about 11.30 for a "birthday lunch" as you kept informing everybody. As usual, you are very excited, particularly when Auntie Sue appeared. "Auntie Udda, Auntie Udda", you shouted with joy. While we were having lunch – Dad had prepared a beautiful seafood dish with anchovies etc. – you suddenly stood up on your chair and sang "Happy birthday" right through to "dear Dada and dear Ramma". We explained that it was only Dada's birthday. Mum realised later that you probably got mixed up because it was Freya's grandma's birthday.

It was a hot afternoon. A lovely little plastic pool had been filled with water for you on the terrace in the backgarden. You kept squirting everything with water from a syringe which Auntie Sue had brought – rather foolishly, as she admitted. Later we all walked over to Clissold Park where it was extremely crowded, so much so that you didn't feel like spending much time in the playground. Instead we walked over to a large lawn where groups of people were sunbathing, reading etc. You were supposed to play ball with Dada but kept being very mischievous and throwing the ball in any direction rather than towards Dad. Once you threw it bang into the middle of a newspaper, a lady, seated on the grass, was reading. Grandpa and I felt we wouldn't have allowed this without a fairly clear reprimand! You were really being naughty. After we got home Auntie Sue had to leave but we stayed for the evening so that your parents could go out and have a meal together to celebrate.

August 20th – 22nd, 2000

Having been with Oma & Opa for a week in Yorkshire you came out to us on Sunday for lunch. (Your birthday had been celebrated on the day, Friday, with Dad taking a day off, Big Sam helping too, and Auntie Sue was invited along with a few mothers and children). Florence could walk and crawl by now so it was nice that we could be in the garden. You liked your "New Oxford Book of Poems & Rhymes" and the Rhyming Lotto. When you came to my bed the next morning I was surprised how readily you suggested a rhyming word even if it wasn't the one in the card – i.e. "woman" "soon", whereas it was probably "spoon".

In the afternoon Dad, Florence, you and I went to Lingwood to go for a walk. You were very eager to find blackberries. Dad told me you had just discovered some with Christian in the cemetery a few days ago. Fortunately we found plenty and also saw a lot of sheep and a tractor – a newly acquired interest. Next morning Mum told us you had woken up briefly to say: "Mama, I shared (something or other) with Florence!" You were obviously very pleased to report this and then went back to sleep. Florence was the one who kept your parents up for over an hour. Then you both woke up early so everyone was tired. We went to Walberswick for the day but before that, while we were getting ready, Grandpa took you out to the garage to show you some of his things. You wanted to show Mamma & Dada the magnifying glasses and a tape measure, which you did. When Grandpa wanted them back, you said: "No", neither of your parents could persuade you to give them back. In fact, in a fit of temper you threw them behind the side-board under the stairs in the dining-hall. Grandpa was more upset about your behaviour than anyone else, I think, and said something to the effect to your dad which in turn upset him. Meanwhile you had got hold of a glass dish and wouldn't let go. Dad retrieved it finally and took you upstairs to calm you down and talked to you in private. You are certainly a handful for your parents at the moment. We feel that you don't have enough clear boundaries, a view common among our generation and grandparents we know, but your parents see that approach as "controlling". It is certainly hard to get it right.

Unfortunately a storm blew up when we had just arrived on the beach at Walberswick. You weren't in the slightest interested in making sand castles but lay down on my grass mat and covered yourself with a blanket. (It was fairly windy.) Your dad said: "I don't know why we bother. Probably because we like to come ourselves", and I thought that's true. You would perhaps have been just as happy in our garden but your dad loves the Suffolk coast. He showed me the hotel where you stayed in Southwold. We also went briefly to Orford. By then both of you had fallen asleep and needed to be revived with a little walk to see the boats.

On Tuesday morning you and I went to the papershop because you wanted to buy a magazine. You chose one which was far too old for you but it had a yellow boomerang attached to it which we took to the recreation ground afterwards. We had a lovely time there on the climbing frame, big slide, carousel and then a little picnic in the wooden house (a Satsuma and some sunflowerseeds!) We said we must bring Dada & Mamma here this afternoon. Unfortunately you had to go soon after lunch. "I'm coming to see you tomorrow, Grandma!" you announced as the car pulled out of the drive.

I came out the following Tues. (29 Ag.) to look after you at home while Dad worked and Mum went shopping (you were to some extent still on holiday.) I had to give you both lunch and look after you until about 4 pm which was quite a daunting task but to my utter amusement you are both very good. You, in particular, ate up all your lunch and occupied yourself well while I was cooking. Afterwards we took the tricycle so that you could cycle up the road while Florence wheeled along. Then I carried her for a bit to catch up with you so you didn't want to turn back we did a tour around the block which took quite a while. Then I gave Florence her bottle, you had some stewed apple as your snack and we hoped Florence would allow us some time together because you had got your counting book, ready to do some of the exercises. This involved closing our eyes, opening them and saying: "Three rabbits", or "2 ducks" etc. according to the pictures. Unfortunately Florence wouldn't settle down and you said, 'yes' then I asked: "Do you think I should fetch Florence?" Then Mum & Dad came home. You change back into the naughty boy with your Dad who was trying to read the paper. You said 'no' to everything, snatched things from Florence and generally made a nuisance of yourself. Finally, you came down from upstairs and yelled 'bye, bye' at me, as if to say 'Clear off!' I growled back at you eventually so that you laughed heartily and Florence, too, was highly amused. It finished with you waving from the Waving Chair as sweetly as ever but I felt sorry for your Dad in particular who looked so sad and tired. He said earlier to me: "You can see what it's like. He is probably annoyed with us for having gone out." I hope this phase will pass soon for all your sakes.

September 16th, 2000

When I phoned this morning at about 10 o'clock to find out how you all are you picked up the phone: "Who is it?" "Well, who do you think it is?" – "It's ramma!" I asked whether it was raining in London or whether the sun was shining, and you replied: "The sun is shining" (it was grey in Boreham). When asked what you are doing you told me something about "pancakes". Then I asked whether Mamma and Dada were there or just one of them. "No, Mamma and Dada." "Could I speak to one of them?" You then must have gone to Mamma first, because I said Mamma & Dada. I could hear your Dad: "give the phone to me, Minkey!" but you cried, Mamma had to speak to me first. We just exchanged a few words to make things right, then I spoke to dad and then he passed you back. So I said: "Are you having your pancakes now?" "No," you said, "we are making the mixture today but we are having the pancakes tomorrow!" At least that's how I remember it. I understood it completely and was very pleased.

September 25th, 2000

Auntie Sue told me last night on the phone that she took you out to the Lyric Theatre in Hammersmith on Sat. at 1 pm. Your mum had suggested that you might go and see the Clown but as that had finished you went to see a Puppet Show. Auntie Sue said you appeared to have enjoyed it and had joined in. Apparently Mamma was going to take Florence to a 1st year birthday party. So she dropped you off at Arsenal where Auntie Sue came to meet you. Dad meanwhile went into town to a record shop and some bookshops. He told me that you had all had a stomach upset during the week. Florence started with it, as she had been eating goat cheese your parents thought that hadn't agreed with her but then you all got it one after the other and Dad said he still felt quite weak. Perhaps that's why he didn't see the step in the middle of the record shop and fell down and sprained an ankle. He was in terrible pain once he had hobbled home. Fortunately, it seemed a little better yesterday. –

Anyway, Auntie Sue also took you to some shops. She sat down while you looked around – she seems keen to share her love of shopping with you! In the Early Learning Centre you were allowed to choose something. So you had a good look round and then announced that you wanted a Hoover. Auntie Sue was somewhat perplexed. "Why do you want a Hoover?" Well apparently your friend has got one and so you would like one. You were so proud of it that you had to carry it yourself. "So," Auntie Sue said, "later on at home when we are all relaxing Sam hoovered the whole house and then he went to bed, with the Hoover standing next to his bedside." I could just picture it all! Auntie Sue said you are so easy to be with. A lovely boy! we both agreed.

When your mum asked you what you had enjoyed most, you replied: "I enjoyed everything!"

October 9th, 2000

Yesterday, Sunday afternoon, we came to visit you. As usual you were very excited and charged around the hall, sitting-room and kitchen. When you had calmed down you started to show me all your new things: your Hoover, a shopping basket on wheels, some stickers, your new book 'Suddenly' and others. We soon got ready to go to Highgate wood, you deciding to come in our car. This was the first time and you liked it. Unfortunately we had to use the seat belts so we couldn't sit close together but we had a nice chat. I tried my best to follow what you replied to my questions, most of the time I understood. You had been given special almonds (roasted), a nut bar and a drink of juice, so you were fairly busy. At the playground in Highgate woods you demonstrated how good you are on the big slide, also on the wobbly bridge. You seemed very confident compared with a boy almost double your size. I was delighted that you have changed to that extent and really enjoy yourself now. Then it was time to go home, you commandeered the buggy whereas Florence was only too keen to walk. She'll probably take after your dad in that respect and you after your mum. On the way home I said 'Abracadabra' and brought the armrest down between us. You loved that. When we got out Mamma had to come to see it: "Would you like a car with an armrest?" you asked, of course she replied, she would.

I had bought you a book on numbers, the only one suitable for a four year old I could find!, 'I can count first'. I noticed it is meant to prepare the 4+ children for their Baseline Assessment which intrigued me because I am assigned to Math as a governor of Boreham school. So we did some of the work in the book together. You were very good at counting objects and recognising numbers from 1 – 10. You know the concepts under, in front of, taller than, shorter or longer etc. But we shall have to do some works on shapes and symmetry. You are also much better at colouring in – at least when you tried. And of course the best part was to award yourself a star sticker whenever a task was finished. I noticed in the course of the afternoon how you kept inquiring: 'Did you like that, ramma?' for instance when you played your tape with Silly songs; supercalifragilistic etc and such other favourites.

In the evening, when you were both asleep we had supper and then talked. We had a long discussion about your schooling. Your parents are worried as to what would be the best thing for you. Your mum feels that your speech probably won't be completely right for some time, so she is concerned that you should go somewhere where you don't get ignored or left out. So far they haven't been told whether you will get a place at Grasmere. In case you don't, they are considering the Rudolf Steiner school or a unit for about 8 children with speech problems, run by the Ed. Authority. Your mum feels she would have to see this to judge what the other children are like. It could be ideal but it could also be hopeless if the others are, for instance, retarded. I suggested that she could always go into your class, and help you on those days when she is at home, if you get a place at a state school where the numbers in the class would be very high. It will sort itself out, one way or another, but it is a worry.

November 9th, 2000

I came to spend the day with you on Monday, 9 November. To my great delight your speech seemed to have improved considerably yet again. I wonder whether it is helped by the fact that you seem to learn to spell at the moment. You showed me a board with the 'alphabet' from the Early Learning Centre on which each little plastic flap has a letter. If you lift 'a', for ex., you might find an apple picture underneath and the word apple. You went almost through the whole alphabet saying 'a is for apple', 'b is for bus', &c. You can't say 's' yet but still replace it with 'b', so you say "seben".

In the evening when Florence had her bottle with Mum you chose a book for me to read to you, about an imaginary polar bear. When we had read it we went into the main bed room. Florence had been put into her bed and gone to sleep, Dad was (actually lying) on his side of the bed, Mum on hers, you in the middle and I on a chair. For your "final" story you chose rhymes from the book I gave you for Xmas 2 years ago.

You wanted to hear about the Boa Constrictor, asking what it is. When Mum read: 'Oh no, he's up to my toe, gee, he's up to my knees'... she kept tickling you. You didn't want to be tickled, especially not on your neck and requested the whole thing again – "the final time." We had about 3 more after that! Each time you said the relevant words yourself: 'Oh heck, he's up to my... neck, oh dread, he's up to my... head.' Toe, knee, middle, neck and head were all pronounced perfectly. When you left to go to your bedroom I heard you say: "It won't eat me. It only eats mice, doesn't it?" I hope you didn't dream of the boa constrictor after that.

I was also impressed earlier on that you can recite numbers up to 20 without hesitation and that you can count confidently. (About 6 or 7, perhaps more, objects.)

You seemed very nice with Florence on the whole, only when she climbed on the "waving" chair and pressed the buttons on the TV you were ready to drag her down.

Before we went to Mum's bedroom I said I must phone Grandpa to tell him that I am coming home now. You wanted to do it! As Mum & Dad had no objections we went down and I dialled our number on the big phone but you started to cry. You had fetched the mobile phone and wanted to use that. 'Alright,' I said, 'you dial:' You pressed various buttons to start the proceeding then I dictated: 01245.467282. You dialled all those without a mistake! Unfortunately it didn't work that way so we had to take it up. Dad tried but Grandpa was engaged. Later, when it worked, he handed it to you and you said: 'Grandma is coming home now.' Then you said something about a fair and fireworks. Grandpa asked you because you had been to Oma & Opa's over the weekend and gone out to the meadow in front of the house to see a fair and watch the Guy Fawkes fireworks. Dad told me that you put your fingers in your ears for most of the time and wanted to go in before they were over. I thought they might be a little frightening. Mum & Dad enjoyed them very much, they said.

November 29th, 2000

I forgot to mention earlier on that you stayed with Auntie Sue overnight for the first time about 4 weeks ago. You wanted to do it so much that it had to be arranged even though Matthias and his partner were visiting you for the week-end. You said: 'I can go and stay with Auntie Ada and see Matthias on Sunday!' – Sue told me that you hoovered her feet, sucking up various bits and pieces which she had to retrieve. Before going to bed you phoned your parents and she heard you say: 'I think I'm going to bed soon. I've had my bath.' Next morning you asked when Mummy would come and pick you up although you had announced in the evening that you would stay with Sue for a week. She had to explain to you that she needed to go to work and you would have to go to the Montessori Nursery School.

I don't know whether it was a week later that Mum & Auntie Sue took you and Florence to the Natural History Museum (your dad had a painful back). As you are learning all about dinosaurs at the moment you were interested in those.

Apparently when you came home from school one day that week you announced: "Paleontologists study dinosaurs." Having repeated this to your dad in the evening he said to you: "Would you like to be a paleontologist?" and you replied: "Don't be silly. The dinosaurs are all dead!"

December 4th, 2000

Last week big Sam was ill, so I was asked on Sunday whether I could possibly help out on Monday because Mum had to go out in the afternoon. The trains are running very slowly at the moment after the Hatfield derailment but I managed to be there by 11.15. Florence was asleep and you were at the Montessori School so Mum & I had time for a long chat which is very rare. Because of your speech delay and hearing problems, also because of being shy you don't find it easy to make contact with other children. So Mum was advised that it would be good if you were in a smallish rather than very large group when you start school. At the moment the debate is going on about pros & cons of the Montessori School as opposed to Grasmere where you have recently been offered a place. We are, on the whole, for Grasmere, so is Auntie Sue and so are your parents, although it's quite an impossible decision to make. We trust that you can go back to the Montessori Sh. if it doesn't work out at Grasmere. But I hope you will like it there and do well. It would be much easier in many ways, cheaper, and you could have far better social contact. Also Florence would have a place there, as your sibling.

December 31st, 2000

I brought up an Adventskalender when I came and tried to explain to you about having to wait until the first of December before opening the first window. You took it all very seriously. Later you explained it all to your mum. Then you said to me: "I think you better phone me on Friday (1 Dec) Grandma, to tell me to open the window." Then you reflected: "No, I think you better come on Friday to help me open it, Grandma." We decided that it might be better if I phoned. When I did this on Friday afternoon you said very cheerfully: "Oh, yes. I opened it. It's got a candle in it and some holly." But it was obviously still too early this year to expect you to take in the concept of waiting for Xmas day and opening one window after the other, in numerical order, until the 24 December. –

When I came to the Montessori School with your mum & Florence to pick you up (it was my last time) Moira, whom I had met before, came over to talk to us again. She is a kind of "dinner lady". Your mum had warned me beforehand that Moira comes to her each day and laments the fact that you have eaten nothing, or only ham or a sandwich. She told me on a previous occasion that she asks you sometimes whether you would eat a sandwich and said: 'Of course, if he says yes, then I have to make sandwiches for all of them! But he is my favourite!' Moira informed us again how little you had eaten. When she had gone I said: 'You know, Moira likes you very much.' You looked at me and questioned: 'But you like me too, Grandma?' So I replied: 'Oh of course, I love you, Sam!' and gave you a big hug.

On the way home you walked along all the little walls and hopped and skipped. A nice memory to keep of the way to the Montessori School.

Later in the afternoon, when Mum had gone out I suggested that Florence and I should come and visit you and all your teddies, animals and dolls in your bedroom and have a tea party. We emptied out the big box with all the plastic cups, plates etc. You were trying to find something in particular and said: "I need a ...." It sounded something like "a sieve" to me but you said no that's not what you meant. I guessed, asked you to say it again but couldn't work it out. We both had to give up and you muttered under your breath: "If you don't understand me, then I don't want you to come!" It was a clear example of how frustrating the lack of communications is for you. When I told your mum about it she told me that you had asked her a few days ago whether people understand her. When she said yes, they did, you said: "They don't understand me!" It will be such a relief for you when people can finally understand everything you say.

When I came up again the next day, because big Sam was still ill, we did some "work" together in the number & shape book I had bought you before. Florence was asleep and Mum had gone out. After a while you said: "Why don't you wake Florence up, then we can have a tea party in my room again." I suggested that we should wait a little longer and let her sleep. Mum was amazed that you shd. even think of wanting to wake her! The tea party had obviously been quite a good idea and needed to be repeated!

Since then it has been confirmed that you will start at the Grasmere school in January. Auntie Sue has put your parents in touch with Ollie's boss whose daughter goes to Grasmere. They learnt from her that she is very pleased with her daughter's progress, although she took quite a while to settle in. So, we all hope that it won't be too much of a problem for you to settle in there. We know that over 50% of pupils come from homes where a language other than English is spoken. So there will be quite a few pupils with language difficulties. It might even help you, not to feel the odd one out. And I imagine there must, therefore, be much emphasis put on pronunciation and speech.

On the 18 December we made a date for biscuit baking. I brought up some 'Kipferl' dough which we rolled out with your toy roller and then you chose an angel, star or a heart to press down and cut out. You liked eating the dough but the biscuits were even better. The best part was sprinkling the icing sugar on to the hot biscuits. You put the little sieve to your mouth quite frequently to suck up some icing sugar from it. Florence, too, loved it. I heard later on that most of the biscuits had been taken to the Montessori School as a farewell present to your friends. A nice idea!

January 24th, 2001

On the 21 December you had to have a small operation (circumcision) because there had been several infections and problems with passing water. Mum was advised not to delay it. Also it was felt that an operation immediately after you had started school would be unfortunate. We were told afterwards that Dad & Mum had gone with you, Dad in spite of hating hospitals because of his own 3 operations as a child / teenager. He told me that things have changed a lot since his experience. For instances they were both allowed to go in with you when you were given an anaesthetic (apparently an epidural as well or only I presume). Everything was explained to you, you are allowed to try things for yourself and found it all fascinating. Your parents were allowed to see you again before you woke up. As you had 'jelly legs', as you recounted, a wheel chair was at your disposal, so that you could all go to the canteen. Later in the afternoon, when it was safe, you were allowed home. Your parents had been told that you might be sore for about 10 days. But you didn't have much trouble from it.

I was asked to come to look after you and Florence on the 23rd, a Saturday, so that your parents could do some final shopping, although Mum said that Dad was ill and might be in bed.

It turned out that he had a very nasty bug, a type of flu, which accounted for him having felt unwell at the hospital. Mum went to do some shopping, Dad slept. You were in pyjamas, at first quite lively. As the day went on, and especially after we had done some shopping – you insisted you wanted to come but felt very tired and fell asleep in the end – it became clear that you had been infected with Dad's bug (a temperature of 104 that evening!) You put yourself to bed, as soon as we got back.

On Christmas Eve, next day, Grandpa & I went to be with Auntie Sue to celebrate there. Your parents were going to prepare for Oma & Opa, Binny & David coming the next day. It so happened that I had got the bug, too, which became obvious on Xmas day. Your Dad spent a lot of time in the kitchen on Xmas day feeling quite ill. I (also) stayed in bed. Florence got it too. It took me 2 weeks to get over it, in fact even now (23 Jan.) my stomach is still not right. So we had to postpone our meeting to exchange Xmas gifts day by day. Sue, who was supposed to come out to us after Boxing Day postponed it until the Saturday so that she wouldn't catch the bug, and she didn't. She stayed with us for a week, writing her essay while you all went to a holiday cottage in Fowey, Cornwall. Of course we worried a lot because you went in very snowy, stormy conditions. Then you had an asthma attack!

Auntie Sue phoned the National Health Line, then a hospital near you and a nurse, so that your parents would know where to take you. They decided against it though Sue felt that some definite treatment would have been in order. Fortunately you all survived, coming home a day early. As your Mum said afterwards it would have been nice if the weather had been good and you all had been well. As it was, it least you all had a change but would probably have been better off at home.

The next worry was about you starting school! Adults are helpless in such situations and possibly worry more than the children. You told your parents you were excited, not concerned. The big day came on Wed. the 10 January. It was difficult to say how you really felt, but apparently you didn't object to going and you slept alright. We went to Vienna on the 12 Jan. for 5 days. A very exciting break! Since then we still haven't seen you, because all my Mondays are booked. However, we'll have a get-together this Sunday.

Dad told me that you were very proud to show him the lunchtime eating arrangements when he came to the school with you one morning. You said the ladies would ask you: "Do you want this and this and this?" and you say: "yes, yes, yes, yes..." Also, a nice little girl told your mum after school that 2 boys took your hat and threw it into the air several times. You didn't seem to mind? It would be nice if one could ask you all about these things but I read somewhere that one shouldn't ask: 'What did you do at school?' because children can't really answer. Certainly your parents seem to confirm that they are pretty much in the dark, as far as what your feelings are about it all.

I phoned the other day to speak to you and asked whether you had been out riding your bike? You said something about the outrides being wobbly, that they would be repaired for next week-end. 'Would you like to see me ride my bike next week-end?' I said I would love that, so you replied something about having to arrange it with Daddy or Mummy and ran off. It will be exciting to see you, especially you too since a few weeks always make quite a difference. Grandpa said the other day how much he is looking forward to Sunday!

February 20th, 2001

Well, we did meet up for lunch on the 28 Jan. Auntie Sue came over as well. For you it was very exciting because we exchanged presents at last. You handed them all out and loved this aspect of Xmas. Then we all got ready to go for a walk to Clissold Park. You cycled all the way and did extremely well. We were amazed at your stamina.

I don't recall any other special details except that you asked Grandpa to read you a bedside story which I thought was very nice. However, Grandpa was quite upset by the story which was about the bad sheep and the nice wolf – everything upside down. He couldn't help relating it to his general concern that things are being turned on their head in our present day society. He feels that certain values must be upheld and recognised for what they are, also that evil does exist and shouldn't be explained away, and that children have to be made aware of dangers.

On the 4th February, a Sunday, I phoned you in the morning. You: 'Hello, who is it?' – 'Well, who do you think it is?' – 'It's Ramma!' – 'Is the weather nice in London?' – 'No, it's raining. But it doesn't matter. I'm going to the cinema with Auntie Sue.' But first we are having lunch etc. I was very proud because I understood this long speech, only couldn't make out the film: 'Grinch at Xmas' or something like that, a Dr. Seuss film. All your family went to a shopping mall where you had lunch. Then you went to see the film while your parents & Florence had a look around. Auntie Sue told me that you stood on your seat occasionally and she had to explain cinema etiquette, but otherwise you were very good and sat through the entire film of 1 ½ hours.

It's your first half-term this week, Sam. I was eager to make use of the opportunity to come up for a day, and Monday is the only possible one because Big Sam is there on Tues. Wed. Thurs. and Oma & Opa come most Fridays. You came running to the door, keen to let me in. At first you are playing on the computer but you soon came into the kitchen where we all are and showed me my present that was hidden under the table: two sheets stapled together with writing on them. The main message was 'Grandma Sam loves you' as it is written "Rah m Sem Luf syoo" etc. I couldn't get much out of it at first, but I fully appreciated it, once I had watched you writing and studied it again at home.

After lunch when Florence had gone to bed Mum stayed upstairs and the two of us settled down at the table, first with a book on numbers which someone else had bought. Then we worked with the new super phonics book I bought in London recently (at the Dillons, when I went to UCL and the Inst. of Germanic Studies to a lecture). You are very eager and able to write numbers and letters but did it 'your way'! [sketched arrows] again from the bottom, 4 o.k. & L then up again. Letters you write from the bottom too, n = [sketched loop] at the moment. You worked away with great interest in red books, doing numbers 1-3 and letter a (apple), b (boot) c (caterpillar). Each time we finished a double page, you drew a star at the top [handdrawn star]. Next we threw the two big dice I had brought and you wrote down the numbers you could see. Then we made a striped snake from plasticine.

I felt you had done very well and suggested, as Mum had done before, that we should take your bike and you could show me Grasmere School. Mum wrapped you up warmly and made a map for us, so that we could also get your prescription from the surgery, go to the chemist, and then buy some milk.

All this worked very well. We could only look through the locked gates at Grasmere but I told you that I would come to stay with you for 2 days next week, when Big Sam takes some time off, and could come to school then. You explained that if I took you in the morning I would be allowed to come into the classroom with you.

So we went off to the surgery (up Clissold Terrace?), you cycled very fast and seemed liberated, singing to yourself. I had my time cut out running after you and shouting: 'Sam, go more slowly! Stop at the kerb!' you were quite amused by my having to run! We got home just as Florence was waking up (at 3 o'clock).

Now I thought we could have a nice cup of tea in the sitting-room and talk while you too played but it didn't work. You really did not want us to talk and neglect you. Perhaps you felt that I was there for you only. Mum suggested I should go up with you to your room. Then she came with Florence to tidy up some toys and you were quite out of sorts. Eventually she said: 'Are you upset because you want to be with Mummy only or with Grandma?' 'With Grandma!' you said. So we went downstairs with a lovely new picture book which Dad had bought you: 'Old Dog Marcos.' We read it together on the settee. Then I said: 'you know, Sam, quite soon you'll be able to read all your lovely books yourself! And very soon you'll be able to write. Then you can write me a letter and post it.' At that, you jumped off the settee, pulled me into the kitchen, got a sheet of paper and a red pen and started to write. I suppose your idea was to show that you could write already. I bought the letter home. It starts with MR D OD MQ O you pronounced it all, while you wrote: mad dog marcos etc. On the other side you drew me pictures of Deborah & Jan Two teachers of Sams.

SOF
S E M S
TOOT?XR
        

It occurred to me that you might like to play 'consequences' if you can draw people now. So we started, first a name, fold over, swap papers etc. When we opened them yours had Sam on top, I had written Daddy. You seemed upset. I thought because you were offended at your picture because I had drawn a curly head, more like Florence. But my suggestion that we should change the name to Florence didn't help. You got up, fetched the stapler, turned the paper over Daddy's name and stapled it down. It only occurred to me this morning that you were probably expecting me to have written Sam as well! When it came to teatime and Florence & Mum descended into the kitchen, you were out of sorts again. In fact, I forgot to mention that earlier on in the sitting room when you didn't want us to talk, you arrived with a very long pen, your magic wand, and said 'Abracadabra, Grandma go home!' which is why Mum probably thought that I was causing the upset. But you are very adamant. If someone comes to see you, they must concentrate on you, it seems!

When Grandpa arrived at 5 pm you were still in a mood but his presence helped. You settled down to your tea with Florence while we all had a cup of tea. Later when we were on our own again, but with Grandpa, you fetched a piece of your magic paper and wrote: L L L L all over it, saying love, love, you have been very helpful (I presume that meant Grandpa had) and then LUF and you copied Grandpa from the sheet on which I had written Grandma to show you that they start with G, Grandpa you wrote G C & D in between! Because we thanked you so much for your nice writing, you suggested later that we might want a copy and made one on the fax*! Then you explained again and again that we could have another copy if we lost it. It was very touching. Even when we said good bye and went out of the gate you were still going on about it. You obviously get very concerned at times in case people haven't understood what you are saying. Oh, it makes me want to help you!

*your mum was surprised that you cd. do it.

February 28th / March 1st, 2001

I came up for those 2 days because Big Sam needed some time off. Because I had made a big thing about being able to come with you to your school I took an early train and arrived at your house shortly after 8.15 i.e. in plenty of time to walk to school with you, Mum and Florence. You were very excited and showed me your peg where you hang up your jacket, hat & scarf. Every peg is marked by a photograph of the pupil which seems an excellent idea. Next you explained the big hall to me: where the tables are arranged for you to sit and eat your lunch and where the dinner ladies dish out the different things. In your classroom there was a hum of activity. The diff. tables, all covered with colourful, patterned 'wax' tablecloth, activities were set out. You decided to start playing with a kind of computer game and didn't take too much notice of us leaving. When Florence and I picked you up in the afternoon you came wandering out in a complete daze, looking very pale & tired. It is such a long school day for such young pupils! Quite a few of the others, in fact most, looked pale and tired. However, you soon skipped along, telling me all sorts of things, and we went to the Healthfood shop to buy yoghurt-covered raisins and white chocolate buttons.

Next day I accompanied you to school again. I had slept on the sofa and was able to read you a book (about how Pete is made into a Pizza) while you drank your morning milk. After that, things deteriorated. Apparently you found it completely 'unfair' that I should be with Florence all day and you had to go to school. You kicked up quite a fuss and only had a quarter piece of toast for breakfast! Eventually I bribed you with suggesting that I would hide some chocolate buttons in your bed-room "and something else" for your return and we would do something special! In the afternoon you didn't seem quite so tired. I told you on the way back that I had decided that we might use Max, the red-haired handpuppet, to play some number games. 'I should think he'll make all sorts of mistakes,' I suggested. You understood what I was intending to do at once and said: 'I expect he might say: one, two, five, six, seven!' You are very quickwitted and also very good at numbers and reading. The day before when I showed your mum some of the number games I had copied out from the National Numeracy Strategy, such as counting backward from 10, you immediately counted 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!

The previous day we also looked at your book bag which you bring home from school everyday. In it there was a book for you to read and one to be read to you. Your book was called The Shopping Mall. We looked at it together first and talked a little about it as we were meant to but then you said you would read it to me. You read: 'We went shopping. We went into the shoe shop' etc. Without much help you read right through it and I was amazed and delighted. I said to you: 'you know Sam, this is a very special day! Instead of me reading to you, you have read the first book to me! How exciting!' Your face lit up! You could picture that this was special. Later you read it all again to your mum and then Dad had to be informed about it.

Next you wrote a birthday card to Grossmutti who had knitted you a multicoloured jumper and you wanted to thank her. I had to write in pencil underneath each word what it meant. She phoned today to say how delighted she was to receive your letter although she felt that according to the photo the jumper is far too big and now she wants to knit another one!

June 5th, 2001

On 24 April, when I looked after Florence again, I came to fetch you after school and we went to the Health Shop so that you could buy something. Suddenly, a girl of about your age confronted you and said: "You should not be here, Sam." I questioned her: "Why shouldn't Sam be here? If you are here, Sam can be here too!" Her mum was heard from somewhere behind the shelves: "Are you being nice, (Carol)?" You didn't take much notice because you were so occupied with what you should choose. You selected two fruit bars, held them out to the little girl, and said: "I am buying an apricot bar for me and a date bar for my little sister." Florence was delighted with it.

Later we played a writing game: You wrote down a word for me to read (Cat), I wrote one for you (DOG), hen, Grandpa etc. Then you asked me to write down Tyrannosaurus Rex. When I said I couldn't spell it you rushed off to get your dinosaur book and dictated it to me. Then I dictated another dinosaur name to you etc. You amazed me with your excellent spelling. (See sheets & drawings).

When I came back again shortly before us all going to Germany, I started to dry you in the bath once we had watched the water whirling down the plug hole. You said something which I couldn't understand. So I explained I was very sorry but I really couldn't work out what you said and would you please repeat it. You cried and were upset but repeated it. It was that I had to lift you out of the bath first before drying you. When I understood and did it, you were very happy.

When I phoned you on the Sunday before going to Germany and said: "We are going to Germany on Friday" you paused for an instant then said: "We are going to Germany on Wednesday!" which was right because you went to stay with Uwe and Lilo first. I was amazed but Mum told me that you have a good concept of time. When Dad explained that we were all going for Rainer's 50th birthday you said: "50! What a lot of birthdays!"

Visit to Germany You arrived on Sat. 26 just before lunch was served. It was amazing how well Florence and you fitted in during the two days and how ready you were to talk to people. You were both very much the centre of attraction: Florence because she is so sweet and looks quite funny at the moment when she rushes off somewhere. People wanted to hug her or tickle her and she was amazingly embraceable. You both loved it when the band started playing their Jewish music (Klesmer Musik) and swayed and danced.

But you shone because of the intelligent speeches you made! One in particular, when on the last morning you explained the story of the dinosaurs to Grandpa at the breakfast table. Tante Ute had given you a very good book on them with a special dark page which cd. be illuminated by passing a torch underneath. You spoke fluently about the possibility of a meteorite hitting the earth and dust clouds covering all so that the climate wd. have got very much colder. The plants wd. have died and the vegetarian dinosaurs wd. have been deprived of their food etc. etc. Ute couldn't believe her eyes and ears. They found it difficult to follow you, as most people did. Amelie was best at following your speech. We all thought you were a lot better although there are still words we don't understand.

I thought it was quite wonderful to watch you, how you wd. ask a question, listen and having taken it all in, passing on the newly learnt information to your mum or someone else. For instance you asked me how the torch, a little white, round disk on a longer strip of carton, worked. I looked at the book and discovered that the page with the dinosaurs pictures was transparent but the page behind was black. So the dinosaurs were in the dark, apart from the white circle, 'the torch', which was passed underneath them. You could see my point and explained it to them. Then you asked what the large, red F stood for in the corridor. I saw the fire extinguisher underneath it, explained that fire is 'Feuer' in German etc. Again you grasped it at once.

You were very pleased that you had been booked into a double room with Auntie Sue. When Mum & Dad, Sue & Amelie wanted to go out for a meal on Sunday evening you were very upset at first because you couldn't be in your bedroom but had to sleep in Mum & Dad's bed for the first part of the evening.

I think you had a lovely time in Dietersdorf and on the Moritzberg in front of Rainer & Klara's house. Let's hope you will remember it – at least a little – and many happy German occasions will follow this one. Mum & Dad enjoyed it too, although it was a big effort for them, the others in our family appreciated your coming in particular.

August 4th, 2001

I've been coming up to Harcombe Road quite a few times on a Tuesday over the last few weeks/months because your parents and you attended some counselling sessions at the Tavistock Institute. Your mum was worried about you finding it hard to make contact with other children, also because you were quite difficult for a while because you often couldn't make yourself understood, especially not by children who wouldn't take the trouble to listen very carefully and work out from the context what you might be saying. So, all 3 of you attended 1 hr. sessions on a Tues. Sometimes you were asked your opinions, sometimes you played. Your last session was on Tues. 24 July and Mum & Dad's on Tues. 31. Your mum said the sessions were very helpful because they spent time discussing their approach to you and agreeing on a common line to take. This they hadn't had time to do before. You enjoyed the sessions very much, I heard.

When I came up on 10 July Mum & I came to your school with Florence to watch a little play performed by the Reception Class. Unfortunately the rehearsals for this had mainly taken place on Tuesdays at lunchtime when you were away. You appeared as one of the bumblebees, with a headband onto which two bobbing feelers had been attached. Otherwise you wore a big yellow stripy T-shirt and your cheeks had little patterns of striped brown & yellow on them. You looked a little pale and troubled, as you filed past us, rather dazed. On the stage you were right in the middle, next to the little girl who played a bumblebee who had 'no buzz'. She was rejected in song by all the various groups: bumblebees, spiders but accepted by the dragonflies. While all this singing with movements went on you paid careful attention to the prompts of the teacher right under your nose. Most of the time you managed to turn or lift your arms when the others did. Mum said you smiled whenever you spotted us. I wonder how you really felt about it all? I would have been horrified simply to face an audience at your age! Anyway, it lasted for about 15 mins. with the encore of the last chorus and then we went home. Kieran, a big boy from your class who occasionally comes to you to play, came home with us. I had thought up some games I could play with you both such as: I spy ... but with colours. Either Kieran didn't want to join in, or then he did, you went off. The same happened with a rhyming game. You just didn't seem to play together in peace. Kieran wanted your hoover which he let run all the time so you told him the battery wd run out, and so it went. Your mum went off to her analysis and I had the job of giving you all your tea! Trouble started when you both insisted on having your Tyrannosaurus Rex plate. Kieran would not be satisfied with Florence's Diplodocus?. You insisted the other one was yours. I tried to get you to be generous, because Kieran was your visitor, but I could see that he seemed more like an enemy. So I suggested that Kieran shd. eat first and, after I had washed the plate, you could have yours. To my amusement you both considered this an excellent idea. Kieran even said: 'I won't be long,' and hurried to eat his up. You were quick too. There was no problem with the jelly which followed! I felt quite exhausted when I left, in order to attend a talk at the Royal Institution with Grandpa later on.

The following Tues. we had Kieran again but this time Mum was there. I kept more or less out of it. Again you didn't really play. Kieran pretended to be a monster and made you cry. Either you were genuinely frightened or you found it too noisy. Mum said to me later, when she took me to the underground on her way to analysis, that she felt unsure whether it was worth persisting with these meetings because it causes so much trouble. She said you don't like going to Kieran and she had to make an excuse to get out of it last time. I encouraged her to be stricter with Kieran and expect him to behave as you have to when he comes to your house. He is a nice boy but boisterous. For instance when you were playing with your medical set you both decided that my teeth were bad and needed drilling. You came down with a toy drill and I let you have a go and said it tickled, so you tried it for yourself and agreed. When Kieran came, you told him it had been done, but he wanted to do it again and was very loud and demanding. So you said very firmly: "You mustn't force her. You know, it isn't nice to force people." (I had meanwhile made it clear that I wd. go to a different dentist!) Your mum was very good and got through the tea well.

When we both came to baby-sit on Sat. 21 July (because Matthias and his wife were there and they all went for a meal) you showed me the work you had done during your first ½ year at school. I noticed that in the writing book there was one page on which you had written: I like school. Otherwise there was a book with days and comments about the weather: Tuesday. It is warm. etc. On one page in the other book the teacher's comment was: 'Sam could not tell me what he had written.' I studied it very carefully and made out something about: Oma and Opa are here today. They have given me a treat (or put a treat on my bed) – or something like that. It was repeated on the next page and you must have told the teacher what it was. This time there was no comment. Otherwise the comments were always very encouraging: Nice work! etc.

On your long report '2-3 A4 pages' I glimpsed one comment: "Sam has learnt to read incredibly fast." "He has worked very hard...." (So far I haven't read it all, but I shd. think your Mum will keep it for you.) Grandpa & I think that you have coped very well indeed with school. Certainly your reading is a joy whereas the writing is, understandably, still very idiosyncratic.

First Visit to Boreham, July 27th, 2001

On Friday, 27th of July 2001 you came out to us for the first time on your own to sleep here one night! In London, when we baby-sat the previous Sunday evening, you had asked me: "Are you very excited Grandma if I came to you?" Of course, I confirmed that I was. Before leaving your bedside I asked whether everything was alright. You said: "What can I think of?" "Think of going to Yorkshire on holiday!" I replied. You thought for a moment then said: "What sucks up dust but isn't as big as a hoover? And it isn't a carpet-sweeper!" So I said: "I give up." You told me: "It's a dust-buster and they have one in Yorkshire!" So, when we prepared for your visit, I said to Grandpa: "You'll have to think of something that can match a dust-buster!" He was quite ready to consider the machine which sucks up leaves, but we kept that in reserve!

It was quite difficult to arrange the days for your visit. They kept being changed, and then you had a cold and cough again, but Mum & I decided to go ahead because there would be little time later on in the hols when we and you are in England at the same time.

I came up to your house on Friday morning where I found your rucksack and a big bag all packed. Mum brought you too home from a playground a little while later. She had been to her analysis and you had joined big Sam and her other children. We just had time to talk about your medication, then it was time to leave. We were hoping to catch the 11:55 am train from Rectory Rd. to Liverpool Str. Station. Unfortunately it was very hot. But you were wearing your red sun cap with the little yellow purse on top and skipped along happily. On Rect. Rd. Station we crossed over the lines and looked down through the glass windows. I said: "Look Sam, there are the 2 tracks and we have to get down to that platform over there." As we turned the corner and walked down the stairs to the platform, you holding my hand all the time, you said with a big smile: "Oh, I am so glad there are stairs here. I didn't know how we would get down to the platform!" Later you blocked your ears, then the train arrived, but agreed with me that it had been very quiet. You seemed to enjoy the journey to Liverpool Street Station and jumped out of the carriage having read all the signs: Open, Close or whatever. In the train to Chelmsford you installed yourself, then had your picnic: a sandwich and a drink but kept the potato crisps for later. Next you got the teddies out of the big bag: Big Ted and Little Ted, also your "dot to dot" book and your "copper pen". I had called it silver but you corrected me. The train was slow for some reason and took over 1 hour instead of 35 mins. but you looked out of the window a lot, read 'toilet', 'litter', etc, asked about signs you couldn't read, and seemed very engaged.

As soon as we got into the Honda at Chelmsford, – Grandpa had come in that because of its air conditioning, – you pulled the armrest down and said: "Oh, I love armrests!" Then you proceeded to point to every button and dial and ask: "What is that for?" We had to tell you to wait until we got home then Grandpa wd. explain it all. So while I cooked some lunch you spent your time outside with Grandpa and told me later: "I didn't have to wear a seatbelt when we drove into the garage."

After lunch you watched a dinosaur video with Grandpa. I had watched the series a few days before and was truly amazed that you didn't find them too "grown up". You sat through about 3 of them! (intermittently) Grandpa said, although you started off by sitting on my sheepskin-covered seat, you got off, moved closer to Grandpa, took his arm to put it round you and smuggled up to him. And you asked him various questions in between.

Because it was so hot outside we decided not to go to the recreation ground but stay in the garden instead. You whispered into my ear: "I'm so looking forward to the bubble-bath!" When you called me upstairs on the toilet and looking at a larger part of yourself in the hand held mirror. Because I had told you that we wd. take a little bath outside into the garden, you suddenly enquired: "Are you really taking this bubble-bath into the garden?" I'm sure you were disappointed when you saw the size of our old baby bath but you ran about happily, then sat in the water and tested your little waterpistol while we sat on the brickwall and enjoyed a cup of tea.

You made all the more of the bubble-bath when we came in. You operated the different strengths, produced a lot of bubbles, then watched them burst and die down, swam around, started again – you thoroughly enjoyed it. After tea we got the hoover out which was the major event. You hoovered the kitchen, hall and sitting-room, changing brushes and other heads, as well as speeds, although you prefer the least noisy one.

More dinosaurs, and then bed-time, which I wanted to start early to get you to settle down by 7:30. However, what with the 2 inhalers (one for your asthma, 1 for the cough) taking medication, brushing your teeth with the battery-run toothbrush, reading your 2 bed time stories – it was almost an hour later!! (The books were: one about the rabbit who falls down a well, probably in association with our well, because once when you came you wanted to see it in order to understand what a well is, and your Dad had just read this book to you, – the other was about Elmer who foils the elephant hunters.)

In the night you woke us up with your coughing at about 1 am. I kept going to look at you but thought you were asleep. At 2 am I said to you: "I think you need your pump, Sam." so you just sat up breathed in 10 times and flopped back again. I then carried you to the bathroom, so that we wouldn't have an accident and gave you some more Calpol to help you sleep and counter your cold. Not once did you cry or want your mum. We were both very impressed by that.

A bit later you shouted: "It's dark, Mummy." I came to you at once and pointed out that the little night light was on behind you (though it was dark in the hall and, of course, the door is black). I offered to sleep with you which you liked, moved your teddies and settled down. (You had propped up your 'Winnie the Pooh' rucksack on the chair next to your head.) I stayed for about 10-20 mins.

At about 7 o'clock you called and were wide awake and excited. You came into our bed and said: "I'm going to have a busy day!" It was difficult to get you to have some milk, although Mum had told me that you have a beaker full. After I had read you an old picture book from Sue and explained one or two words in a German one, you got out of bed – having rejected the milk again – and said very imperiously and with emphasis: "I've had enough. I'm doing! Good bye!!" and swept out of the room. We sat there dumbfounded and remained silent. So after a few seconds, you must have wondered what was going on, and came back. We then suggested that you might like to take the milk next door, drink just a little, about 1 inch, and call to give us a surprise. Again, we sat there waiting quietly. It seemed ages! Perhaps you played with the Klettermaxe or something else. At last you called: "Grandma, I'm ready!" and I came to admire the fact that you had drunk something. Then we all got up.

The first thing after breakfast was some hoovering, I think. Then you went to All Day with Grandpa to get a jelly which they didn't have. A little later Grandpa took us to the recreation ground and went on to Sainsbury while we enjoyed the swings etc. You were delighted that only 2 boys were there and even they went. So you had it all to yourself. Quite a change from the crowds at Clissold Park.

On our way back I told you about how I used to meet your Dad and Auntie Sue from their school bus and walk home that way. I shared your Dad's nursery school and took you to "my" school to see the dragon in the playground. But you were very weary because of your cold, the heat or possibly the prospect of hoovering again. You wanted to go home, and to be carried!

At home you revived in the cool house and cleaned the sitting-room!

Next we had to bake a cake for your Dad's 40th birthday. We made a hazelnut cake: 200g of grated hazelnuts, 150g of sugar, 5 eggs, 1 tablespoon of cornflow [cornflour]. This involved holding the egg whites, then the egg yolks separately to beat first the egg whites, then the egg yolks with the sugar. You loved chopping the nuts and said: "They are trying to fly away!" Then you put the nuts in by the spoonful, as you had done with the sugar. You said several times, beaming: "I'm making a real cake!" Next you watched it go into the oven and checked through the glass.

We decorated it with thin white icing glass after lunch. I put chocolate glass on in rings, and you drew a knitting needle through to give a feathery effect. It looked quite nice. Next a birthday card had to be produced and more Dinosaurs watched, while I packed. When I said: "you know Sam, we have just half an hour." you asked for what, and then I explained that we would have to go to the station. You replied: "I'm very sad!" "Why?" "Because I have to go home." But we agreed you would be able to come back sometime, and prepared for one more rapid hoovering session!

In the morning after breakfast, when your parents phoned you, I heard you say: "They have a dust-buster but it's rather peculiar!" This was the little handheld Car-hoover which Grandpa let you use the day before.

you also said the previous afternoon: "You know grandma, if I listen very carefully I can hear Florence. She must be really shouting because I am in a different country!" I explained that you are in a diff. part of the country.

The journey back, after Grandpa had chauffeured us to the station again, went much more quickly. We are on time. 4 o'clock, and your mum stood there with arms outstretched on the other side of the barrier next to Florence in the buggy. Your Dad appeared from somewhere else. Everyone was very happy, I included, because things had gone so well, without any mishap. We went to a Starbucks nearby where you immediately grabbed 3 lollies and said one was for me. I felt almost mean to refuse it in favour of a cup of tea.

We walked over to Finsbury(?) Square with the drinks where it was cool. The sprinklers were going, the sun shone through the trees on lovely flowerbeds and lawns – an ideal place to exchange news before parting again.

Florence was delighted to see you. She kept calling: "Hammy, come!" and ran off.

Later that evening you said to your Mum: "Oh, then can I go to Germany again?"

The Annals of Baby Sam