Three Beautiful Things

1. To discover that our £1 bus ticket takes us up the hill and back down again. 2. I suddenly realise that Alec is not walking beside me any more. I look round frantically, back track and find him gazing entranced into the window of Games Workshop . 3. Nick comes home to find both our children are asleep.

1. My poor Bettany is sad and sorry for herself. She feeds and then, instead of wriggling off to play and practise, rests her head on my chest. She is not a cheerful bundley girl who is ready for nursery and I decide to keep her at home. It's the right thing to do (see previous post), but I feel bad for Alec because it means missing our morning together. As it turns out, Bettany goes back to sleep after breakfast and Alec and I get our mother-son time anyway. 2. To garden while Alec destroys the patch of garden that I've put aside for him. He has pulled off the wicker edging (which was broken anyway) and has been digging up the bare soil in search of bones. From time to time I had him bits of archaeology that I find in the compost sack. He dismisses most of them as sticks. 3. It suddenly occurs to me I am feeling ill enough that it is OK for us to get a takeaway pizza for supper. We devour it out of the box, with our hands.

1. On CBeebies Birthdays today there was a card for a little girl called 'Marvellous', which is a beautiful, confident name. 2. We have a Chinese takeaway for lunch -- lots of bright vegetables and a couple of spicy dishes are just what this poorly family needs. 3. To spot our boys playing cricket in the park and wave at them. I can tell from Nick's face that Bettany in the pushchair is waving, too.

1. Bettany reaches up to press buttons on the oven. 2. After lunch, to let Alec fall asleep across my lap. 3. To make Bettany laugh by pretending to polish her head with my handkerchief.

1. The Grove looks particularly lovely on this dull morning, rather coy. There is a little mist and the trees are decked out in tiny new leaves. 2. Katie and I do an experimental playground session -- one of us watches the children while the other runs round the park. It works pretty well -- you get just enough exercise to get the endorphins going. I'm thinking of calling it Mothers' PE Collective, or MPec. 3. To quickly finish the washing up before I go to bed. Nick, who normally does it, has gone to be ill. The children are asleep and the house is very, very still.

1. It's parenting's guilty secret: we send our children to nursery when we sort of know we're going to get a call to collect them later in the day. Today is another sick day for Alec -- but at least with his swollen neck gland he is quite obviously ill and I am not tempted by a choice I know is not entirely correct. 2. Alec leaves the tablet in the pushchair and comes up to gently holds my hand while I have my legs waxed. Later he tells me that when he's a grown up he's going to go to my beautician. 3. Alec and I pick up Bettany from nursery and she doesn't even look up when we come in. She's too busy working her way round the room without crawling.

1. We decide to go out for lunch. 2. "It's like a holiday," says Nick, of having just one child at home. 3. To stop and smell the lilac at the end of Mountfield Gardens.