Three Beautiful Things

1. I find a ladybird larva in the garden -- not many aphids for it to eat, though. 2. On my way to pick up Alec, I come round the corner by Hooper's and almost walk into Nick. "Shall we go together?" "Yes," I tell him, "But I'm carrying him home." 3. "...and I went to put a cold cloth on his bumped head and he said 'No!'" Alec says "No!" again later when I try to take off his t-shirt with a train on. I let him sleep in it, because... well, why not.

1. To sit back in an adirondack chair that is warm from the sun. 2. It's Rosey's birthday, and the family has organised a conference call with her. It is Alec's bedtime, but I open up the sofa bed and lie down. He walks around joining in the conversation, and then snuggles in for some bub. I stop talking and just listen to the questions (we always ask: "Is it completely dark? How dark then?" It must drive Rosey nuts.) 3. "All the birds have gone now," she says. "Except the stormy petrels. They're like... they're completely white and silent, like ghosts. Whenever you go out there's always one or two flying above the base. They must like the buildings... or the lights."

1. She looks a bit fierce, but her spotty dog is so handsome that I tell her so. Also, I know that Alec is fond of dogs, and I like to see him greeted by a friendly one if the owner is happy with that. "Sparky!" she says. "Sparky, look at the baby!" "Alec, woof woof. Look at the dog, Alec." They ignore each other. 2. The playground is empty. The equipment is sturdy enough, but rather scruffy: colours faded to earthy winter tones, and the metalwork is blotched with patches of rust. It's eerie -- like one of those slideshows of the contaminated zone around Chernobyl. Then again, Alec doesn't hold anyone up and he can try to walk up the slide if he likes. There's no queue for the swings; and I don't have to chat with anyone. 3. I lie down next to Alec we settle in for goodnight bub. The next thing I know, Nick is waking me up -- very carefully so as not to disturb his softly snoring son. It's an hour later.

1. The wild strawberry I am potting on is not one but two plants. 2. I take Alec and a box of strawberries (full size ones this time) down to the Pantiles. I put him up on the bandstand so he can run around, but not go too far -- and to further encourage him to stay within reach, I help myself to a few strawberries. He comes hurrying back: "Trawby! Trawb-lyum nom!" and then sets off again to make a grubby handprint on the white paint of the back wall. Ooops. 3. It's a soft and warm day, just right for sitting on the Common with my boy asleep in the pushchair and an easy-going book open on my knee.

1. I open the door on to a world so fresh and sharp that I think I must be wearing new glasses. I bend to pick up the milk and come eye-to-eye with a dunnock. She pauses. I pause, still bent over. Then she decides that we are just two women preparing breakfast, and that it's safe to get on with her day. 2. "I know I'm related to him," says my cousin Ellen, "But I do think Alec is particularly lovely." This pretty much sums up how I feel about the boy, too. 3. Alec shrieking with laughter as he runs in and out of the towels on the washing line.

A quick heads up for people in the Tunbridge Wells area: Ellen Montellius' portrait exhibition, Being, runs from Monday 9 July to Saturday 4 August. For more information, see the Trinity Theatre website . 1. This morning I clutch at sleep as greedily and as blindly as Alec moving in for a night time bub. And like Alec, my greed is not denied. I am too groggy to say "Yes please" when Nick asks if I want him to take Alec down to breakfast -- but he knows what I mean. 2. I am caught by three people I know, unburdened and all alone, feeling so light that I am almost dancing in the rain, on my way down to the Pantiles to look at the fair. 3. To quietly eat the last half gypsy tart without offering it to anyone else.

1. When I have a cold, to make up hot apple juice and honey, to take another paracetamol and have some breakfast. It's amazing how much better everything seems. 2. Everyone else goes out for the afternoon. I do a bit of work and then rest in the quiet of an empty house. But at the end of it, oh, I'm so pleased to see Alec (and Nick, too). 3. Jo is not from Kent and she's never had a gypsy tart before. I think she likes them in all their sticky, foamy, goopy, gooey glory -- but we only let her eat half, because they are very, very sweet. She displays satisfying horror at the thought of them being part of our school dinners.