Papou's spirit

Rosie's five today. Baked a cake in between reading about social housing in Russia. Nat came home and said:

"That will never go around 30 kids."

Got in a bad mood at his negative comment. Later he played his recorded report on Sarkozy and the beautiful bimbo and then asked my opinion. Grunted I'd let him know another day. Have started an ego watching campaign, as his career takes off.

This morning I cut the cake into 30 pieces for her class and quipped: "Now eat your words cos' you ain't getting no cake."

It's the birthday season and the usual party politics stuff is going on. Numbers for Saturday's event stand at 17. Big dent in bank account = clean tidy house.

Stood in the middle of the classroom handing out invites as if doing a drugs deal. Surrepticiously, sneaking into pockets, whispering in ears type thing. Pathetic yes but if I'd invited all the class, my bank would be the next to fall.

Enjoying the mum thing immensely. Trips to museums, cinemas and the "ecology park" (bit of a joke that - it's a patch of scrub salvaged from an industrial wasteland where a few reeds grow).

The idea is admirable but "the signs of spring" were a bit thin. A squirrel's nest (like a bird's nest in a tree!), a velvety bud on a branch and about two daffodils.

Then Lila yells:

"Jude, Rosie - look over there (pointing at big factory chimney) - POLLUTION!" And all the kids stare in awe at the billowing black smoke and answer in a dreamy "Oh yeeeessss...."

Why are they so fascinated by dirty factories and death?

Rosie keeps on asking me about death and do I believe in heaven. It's too upsetting for her to accept that once you're dead that's it. She's almost begged me to tell her we all come back to life and live happily ever after in our house.

I've gone along with it as much as possible. Now I say:

"I believe there are spirits. So once your body is dead, your spirit floats around in the sky and sometimes watches down on loved ones who are still alive."

We were on the A2 in a traffic jam in grey cold rain. Rosie was staring at the dark clouds and she piped up:

"Mummy, I just saw Papou's spirit."

That was Nat's French grandfather who died last year. Even though I never met him, it's quite nice to think he's hovering in the sky over Bluewater keeping check on what we do.

Shame he can't spirit away his grandson's fear of extending his family. In the next gridlock I'll remind him it's his name that won't get carried on - maybe that'll do it.