1.  The Heavenly Child

2.  The Little Boy

3.  The Perfect Cuddle

“Son 2, switch off the telly,” said The Man this morning, as we went down for breakfast.  Son 2 aged 14m tottered across the bedroom and switched off the telly.

We have some Sophisticated Cosmopolitan Friends who have just, long after everyone else, had their first baby.  Possibly even later starters than us, but we can’t remember how old they are and we’re too polite to ask.  We took the Boys around today to meet the New Arrival, who is 4 weeks old.  A Heavenly Child.  Perfect little face, pointy chin, deep blue eyes, teeny tiny hands, feather light and just generally all-round wonderful.  Son 2 aged 14m in his 6 - 9 month trousers and top suddenly looked almost hulking.  They have a Maternity Nurse to get the New Arrival into a routine, so that by the time she leaves when he is three months he will be in A Routine And Sleeping Through The Night.    I  swear not a muscle moved on my face.

Son 1 aged 4y 2m wanted to watch telly this afternoon, so I took Son 2 outside.  We played out the front, and he twinkled at the passers-by.  Our haul was one old man, who said hello, and was rewarded with an “Awoh” when he was about twenty yeards past our house… our neighbour from down the road, walking by with her friend, who stopped for a Haven’t-You-Grown and a Goodness-You-Are-So-Like-Son-1… and our next-door neighbour’s son, dropping off Christmas presents.  The Easterly wind did for us, and we went into the back garden.  Son 2 leapt onto Son 1’s old pushalong car, and propelled himself around on it.   I pushed him up the slope, he pushed himself down.  He got on, he got off, he got back on again.  He was great, so independent and such a boy.

The Good Thing about tea was that I cooked, and we all sat down to a meal together.  The slight snag was Son 1, who got up 40 times, and crowned his evening by trying to stack up the table mats and tipping over The Man’s wine.  Sent to bed.  No pudding.  No books.  Which meant I had longer with Son 2.  And after his bath, one of those brilliant moments.  My uncuddly, hyperactive little boy snugged down and gave me a massive cuddle.  “Aaaaaaahhhhhh,” I said.  “Aaaahhhhhh,” said Son 2.  He would usually have been rockhard rigid, trying to get away, or sticking his fingers up my nose,. Tonight, even when I said “Lie down please like a good boy so I can put your nappy on,” he clung and went “Aaaaaaahhhhh,”  It lasted ages.  And then I looked over his head. He was hugging me, but one arm was outstretched, tracing the pattern on the bath with his finger.