1. High tide
2. Asleep
3. Tea party
We are fantastically lucky to be less than a mile from the beach and this blog always helps me to remember that. Today though was hard because it was scorching. Son 2 aged 8m was at Richter scale 6 for 45 mins before we went out and my skull felt like a sheet metal worker had been trying to flatten it out from the inside. Son 1 aged 3 and a half wanted to take the beach tent Nanna brought. In an ideal world I would have put the tent up and looked after Son 2 inside. But I couldn’t get the tent up, look after Son 2 - who, having used up every calorie in his system on his screaming fit, was starving, - and fend off 5 small boys who instantly started runnning off with the poles and pegs. Son 1 though was in transports. Up to the pockets of his shorts in the sea (sunsuit still in the toy bag), playing very well with the others, digging, collecting, mixing… and then back to the old game of beating the approaching sea with seaweed to try to stop it coming in, and shrieking with laughter when it didn’t work. Son 2 ate his lunch, ate sand, ate stones, ate some leftover sandwich one of the other children left in the pop-up tent I parked him in. Our physio friend thinks he’s maybe a bit young to be diagnosed with Scoliosis. The water was turquoise, and there were people swimming. Next time I’ll bring a costume, I thought, remembering last summer when I was fat as a hippo and cooled off in the sea. But it was so mercilessly hot that we didn’t last much past lunchtime.
Back home I had two boys asleep at once. I had last night’s leftovers for lunch. I looked at the washing, the cleaning, the toys and the mess. And then joined Son 2 on the big double bed and had nearly an hour’s sleep.
Nanna came round just after we all woke up. The Man was barbecueing. So all I had to do was feed Son 2 (Don’t Want That. Want Hot Milk. Only louder.) Son 1 was beside himself with excitement. The Man shook down the astroturf (Concreted yard. Very child unfriendly. Got it on the net.) and collected about two buckets full of sand that Son 1 has just slung around from his sand table. Tea was late and chaotic. Son 2 refused leftovers from breakfast and wriggled, chewing bits of white bread and throwing them on the floor. Son 1 helped himself to a spoonful of salad, ate a couple of bits of pepper, and then carefully dragged a large strip of lettuce through his tomato sauce and lowered it into his mouth from high above his upturned face.
[...] Nightmare. Son 2 took out handfuls of compost out of pots and spreading it over our astroturf. http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2008/06/11/boiling/ The Man got precious about the astroturf. “Weeds will grow in it.” Son 1 tried fending [...]