Popping

I caught the end of One Born Every minute the other day, and watched in fascinated horror as a slight young woman gave birth to an enormous baby. Fifteen pounds, I estimated, has to be. But the weight appeared on the screen, and it was 8lb 3oz. Forty one years ago today I gave birth to a baby weighing just one ounce less. I gasped. I stared. Could that be true? At the time I must have though "Never again", but such is the magic of motherhood that I repeated the process just over two years later, this time to a tiny little child weighing just 5lb 10oz. It was an easier birth, that's for sure. In fact, just as the maternity staff were sternly telling me I wasn't anywhere near delivering after just an hour of contractions and should come back again tomorrow, the baby popped out. Just like that! I always feel nostalgic at this time of year, mid April and end of May. Such wonderful memories.

Penny has found a woman who spring cleans for just £10 an hour. She spent 9 hours in Penny's kitchen this week and it's gleaming. Up ladders to high beams and fittings, under sinks, on hands and knees around the skirting boards, nothing is too much trouble for her and she's really thorough. "Send her to me," I begged. "Tell her I'm desperate!" She doesn't have much spare time apparently, and she's picky. I can wait. If she comes it will be worth it. And it gives me a good excuse to avoid doing the job myself. "Er, um, I'm just waiting for my cleaner."

Hugo has taken to rounding me up again when he thinks I should come indoors in the evening. His self-imposed bedtime is quite soon after he's had his dinner at 4pm and been for a walk. This evening I was still in the garden after 7. Out he came to get me, his third attempt, and he sat beside me as I sipped a glass of wine and gazed around me with pleasure. The lawn had just had its third cut and was looking very healthy. The delphiniums are already nearly 2 feet tall, and most shrubs are sprouting leaves and early flowers. It's irresistible to me, and I surrendered to his persuasion reluctantly. Every time I moved he raced up the garden, came back for me then flew up again. He found his battered little ball and spun around and around in circles, getting ever more crazy as I laughed. But in the end his purpose was to get me in the house, and once he achieved this he climbed onto the sofa and fell deeply asleep. So straightforward, this little man. But so bossy.