1.  Hothead

2.  The Mouse

3.  The Squid

The middle of the night.  Many times.  Son 1 aged 4 cried in arpeggios, getting louder and higher with each one.  I stood in the bedroom door hissing at him: “Go to sleep.  Mummy isn’t coming in with you.  You’re being selfish and naughty.”  I went into him.   He was burning up. I gave him a yard of ibuprofen.  Back in with Son 2 aged 13m, whom I’ve not been able to get into the cot at all since his two-hour evening fight against sleep.  Son 2 whinged me awake at 0630.  Son 1 cried, said his ear hurt, didn’t want to go to Nursery, wouldn’t eat breakfast.  “You’ve only got to do today and tomorrow.  And you’ve got swimming today and tomorrow.  And then you’re coming back after lunch tomorrow for  X’s party. And then you’ve got two weeks off and Mummy’s off next week.”  Off we went to Nursery.

They rang at 10.  Son 1 was pale, crying, saying his ear hurt, really not himself.  Can I come and get him.  I rang the doctor.  No-one could see him.  Bring him to a nurse at 1440, and she can see if he needs a doctor. He was asleep on some cushions in the little library corner when I got there.   I took him back to The Office, as I had a meeting I couldn’t avoid.  There was a birthday, and he helped himself to a huge doughnut.  The Office receptionist looked after him. When I came back he was sitting on her knee playing games on the CBeebies website. Which he’d told her about.  He printed off some colouring pictures at my desk.  I didn’t even know he could use a mouse  -  I’ve deliberately kept him away from computers

The Nurse said she wasn’t qualified to look in his ear.  She did anyway, and said it was a bit pink.  She put him on the Duty Doctor’s list for him to call us.  At home Son 2 had a Mr Bump plaster on his thumb.  Older Mother Thing: I don’t think I can see well enough to cut Son 2’s fingernails.  Plus I hate it. It’s like trying to trim the tentacle ends on a very small, very strong, very wriggly squid.  I asked Wonder Nanny to do it.  A little snip on the end of his thumb.  Unfair to blog it.  An east-facing house can get very dark on gloomy days.  And in a lap, on a nappy mat, or on a bed,  Son 2 whirls round like a drill bit.  We got a few spaghetti hoops inside Son 1, whilst all the time Son 2 tried to grab his food.  I did the baths.  The Duty Doctor didn’t ring.  The Man came home.  He is not useless, Carasmum, he is just easily tired.

1.  The Rash

2.  Rash Actions

3.  Splash

Son 1 aged 4 shrieked regularly and loudly through the night. Till: “If Mummy doesn’t get some sleep she won’t be well enough to go and see our friends tomorrow.”  He woke Son 2 aged 13m up at 0430.  I don’t think Son 2’s spots are chickenpox.  They twinkle.  They’re barely there… they get brighter… they fade… they vanish.  Lots around his neck, front and back.  A couple of very faint ones on his face.  Some angrier looking ones in his little baby nappy creases.  Could be chickenpox, or could be me not believing any child can poo SIX times in one day and leaving him too long sitting in a dirty nappy.

One Wednesday friend has vomiting.  The others have diarrhoea.  And still I took the boys to see each family, separately.  We met Mother 1 and the nearly-3 year old in Costa.  Son 2 is of course the child I do not want to get a vomiting bug. “He’ll be asleep by the time we get there,” I said.   Hey ho.  We went to get Son 1’s hair cut afterwards.  Short back and sides.  He looks great.  If about 7 years old. ”I hate my haircut.”  “Why?” “The hair is in my mouth”  He was really too tired to walk back home, so he sat on the Pram handle, hung on to me and I wheeled them both back somehow.

And then we drove over to the other Wednesday friends’ house.  He played with his Friend, Son 2 played drums, pulled toys out, pulled books out and ate grapes. Late arriving, we didn’t go till three, when both boys were wiped out with fatigue.  At home I got Son 2 to bed for 20 minutes; Son 1 fell asleep watching Scooby Doo.  Son 1 wanted a shower before bed.  I left him in it and Son 2 playing in the bathroom while I drew curtains, tidied beds etc.  “Mummeeee. Emergency!”  A large roll of Andrex had been dumped in the water pooling in the bath.  Son 2 stood by the taps looking pleased with himself.   It took me two hours to get him to sleep.  It’ll be me cutting the breast-feeding/The Man being away/teeth… or maybe he just has got chickenpox.

(The Man has told one of his colleagues about my blog.  I will kill him.  No-one knows.  I can’t put your comment up because you used your real name…  But you did make me larf out loud at ten thirty at night…) 

1.  Night Manoeuvres

2.  The Doctor

3.  A Clever Little Boy

Son 1 aged 4 arrived at about 0100. Still hot. Still crying if he couldn’t have my face close to his so he can comfort-stroke my eyebrow.  “I want a drink.” “I need the loo,” “My ear is sore.”  I went to the loo while he was finally asleep. And came back to him T-boned across the King Size bed, head on the pillow my side, legs sticking out The Man’s side.  I slept on a slither of bed the width of a bookmark.  90 seconds later.  I heard Son 2 aged 13 m wake up with The Man downstairs.  I drowsed.  The Man brought me a coffee.  He switched the light on. “Don’t do that, you’ll wake Son 1,” I snapped.  “Son 1’s downstairs with Son 2,” he said. ”They’re waiting for  you.”

 I made an appointment for Son 1 to see the doctor, to get his ear and throat checked out.  The Positive Point was that I rang at 10 past 8 and got an appointment at 10 past 9. So I will not dwell on having to tell the Woman Who Answers The Phone what was wrong with Son 1.  He didn’t want to go.  Because of the “noodles.”  Which was his MMR top up a year ago.  He’d gone in happy, looking forward to the Play House.  He came out crying, not consoled at all by the bag of chocolate money I gave him.  “I hate doctors.” The Man had to take him.  I wrote everything down for him.    He forgot to ring me after, and wasn’t answering his mobile.  At lunchtime he rang back.  The doctor said Son 1’s throat was a bit sore, there was nothing wrong with his ear.  Give him Calpol.  Son 1 had extracted the Smarties from The Man’s pocket  before they were out of the consulting room.

I went like the clappers at the Office to get out in time for Son 1’s Parents’ Evening at The New Nursery.  The Man got stuck behind a slow lorry and didn’t get there on time.  Son 1’s Teacher said he’s settling in well, takes part in class, chats to his friends, has good focus, an excellent vocabulary, he’s a clever little boy, he’s polite, eats his lunch well with a knife and fork, cares about his friends - if someone’s hurt he’ll go and tell an adult, and plays well in the playground.  And has great memory retention… two days after listening to her tell him something about elephants he repeated it back to her.  Any questions?  “What does he do all day?” I asked.  He always tells me he can’t remember.  The Man got there for the last few minutes.  We drove home different ways as an experiment to see which route is fastest, and arrived back at the same time.  Wonder Nanny smiled when I walked in. “I think Son 2 has chickenpox.”  

1.  A Sound in the Night

2.  Earache

3.  Music to My Ears

Son 1 aged 4 up in the night with his sore throat and raging temperature.  Called for me at 1230.  I went in and told him off for waking me up “Mummy’s going to be poorly if she doesn’t get some sleep soon.”  He needed Ibuprofen but it was downstairs and I was too tired to get out of his bed.  He woke again at 0130 and down I padded to get it. I gave it to him and we both fell asleep in his single bed, with me getting up at 6.  Son 1 woke when I was in the shower, and was over-tired, fractious, whiney and tearful.  We decided against the New Nursery.  He’s only 4, and Wonder Nanny is now here on Mondays.  Son 1 didn’t care about that.  He just wanted me to stay home.

But I had to leave early  because I had an important Out-of-Office meeting first thing.  I was picking up a colleague and then driving across The Big Town to get there.  New black suit (I took the trousers up last night = a Good Thing)  and three inch heels.  I felt almost pre-baby.  Had a call at The Office from Wonder Nanny. When did Son 1 last have Calpol because he was complaining that his ear hurt.  Son 1 came on the phone. “Are you all right?” “No. I’m not. I want you.”  I raced through my work and sorted out a pile to do at home.  I got back mid-afternoon.  Both boys were asleep.  Son 2 aged 13m woke, came downstairs with Wonder Nanny, sat in my arms and clapped, smiling.  Son 1 woke while I was trying to do some work and make some phone calls, pushed away my pile of papers and sat on my lap crying.  

The Man is planning Business Trips this week and next - during my week off.  I am trying to be positive and reasonable.   Son 1 says his ear hurts when he yawns.  The Man’s going to have to take him to the doctor tomorrow.    I went for a run. Full moon, but I ran down to the bridge over the river;  street-lit all the way so very little chance to enjoy the moonlight.  I resurrected the radio I used to run with BC.  New batteries, and I popped it into the money belt I always wore to carry it.  Ah.  The waist strap needed letting out two inches.  Hmph.  However. It was great to have music and company.  And I’ve been out twice in three days.     

1.  Humpty Dumpty

2.  Kevin

3.  Can’t Catch Me 

Son 1 aged 4 was the one who had an awful night this time.  Feverish. Crying. Sore throat.  In with me.  On the bright side… Son 1 didn’t have a problem with my going taking Son 2 aged 13m swimming without him, especially as I said yes, he could stay in bed and watch telly.  Swimming was lovely.  Son 2 played Humpty Dumpty… half-jumping in himself. Then he wanted to stand up and fall in.  He spent a lot of time trying to work out how to climb in and out of the pool.  The frog armbands were on, off, on, off, on. Depending on whether whichever child Son 2 was watching was wearing them.  He splashed.  He watched everybody.  He got tired and just snugged into me while he looked and looked.  When I got him home he was asleep in his car seat. We got his shoes and coat off, got him in his sleeping bag, got  him in his cot and got the side of the cot up without waking him.  And then, when I had a panic about whether he’d fallen asleep with sandwich in his mouth, I stuck my finger in each side of his mouth to check. And still, the lightest sleeper on the planet didn’t wake up.  Poor lamb.  Talk about a sign of stress.  Physical exhaustion can wipe him out, but he’s got so much crowding his head that it’s just not happening otherwise at the moment.  

The Man cooked Sunday lunch while we were out. Son 1 had fallen asleep on a makeshift bed in front of the lounge telly.  Nanna came round. We decided we’d all eat if the children didn’t wake up, but Son 2 of course joined us.  Son 1 woke, wouldn’t have any lunch, wouldn’t see Nanna and went back upstairs to watch telly.  He’s so advanced.  I’m sure I didn’t do that to any of my relatives till I was 12 or 13.  Without Son 1, we had a relatively straightforward, enjoyable lunch.

Son 1 had skipped lunch, breakfast, tea last night, had a sweet potato yesterday lunchtime, and skipped breakfast and tea on Friday night.  He is gulping when he swallows, and he’s very hot, so we know he feels awful.  Nanna, Son 2 and I went out after lunch in search of cartoon pasta, jelly, and anything that a sick four year old might eat.    Our haul was one half can of fishy pasta shapes and some spaghetti hoops.  We stopped off for a Costa coffee and then came back.  Son 1 was interested in the Scooby Doo Ice Pops, and ate the can of fish-shaped pasta.  Son 2 ate and ate and ate.  And was then  chased upstairs by me doing “Coming to get you and when I do… I am going to TICKLE YOU” with him in peels of giggles. Tickling a child with Son 2’s capacity to throw up is always risky… but on a very very full stomach… I was careful.

1.  Treasure

2.  Biff and Beaujangles

3.  Countdown

A friend came with her son, aged 2.75.  She’d made Son 1 aged 4 a treasure chest for his birthday, and was setting up a treasure hunt in the back garden so he could find it.  She came round as I was putting Son 2 aged 13m down for his sleep… and while Son 1 had fallen asleep while watching telly upstairs.  He was hot and bothered when he woke, but recovered after Calpol and a drink.  Son 2 woke, and all three boys went outside. Son 1 found the clues, found the treasure chest and has gone to sleep with it under his bed.

The elder two boys started ricocheting off the walls after too much treasure chest chocolate and marshmallows.  We all walked into The Town, said our goodbyes to our friends and went to the dinghy park to watch the crane lifting boats out of the water.  The Man knows how to show a girl a good time.  We had coffee looking over the marina - hence Biff and Beaujangles.  Back home I played peekaboo with Son 2 round the high chair while Son 1 - who really isn’t feeling well- laid on the floor upstairs and watched telly.  Son 2 clearly asked for “na na” when he saw one.  He stuffed his face at teatime; Son 1 ate almost nothing.

We put the boys to bed.  In a manner of speaking, Son 2 is still going down on the double bed and crying every time he wakes up without a grown up beside him.  I am cutting back on the bedtime feed, with a view to stopping entirely in a week or so’s time.  I feel very strange about it.  Pleased I’ve managed to feed him this long.  Sad that we’re leaving that special him-and-me thing behind.  Proud I did it - it’s been crap.  But the fact is I won’t feed another child.  And I would of course love to.  Anyway.  We are indulging Son 2’s need for an adult while I move him off the breast.  Then we’ll leave it a week or so and get him back in his cot.  Somehow.  And of course that will be as easy as it sounds.  

I got out for a run tonight, and it made me feel much better.  The moon was nearly full, so I ran up to the top of The Headland. Not all the way round, in recognition of the fact I haven’t been out for more than a week.  But it was a lovely evening, crisp and cold, with The Town full of life as I ran through.  There are street lights only half way up the Headland, so about 400 yards was in pitch black.  It was harder running in the darkness - even with moonlight - than it used to be because there are some very bright lights from the docks which are too far away to light the path, but so bright they stop your eyes adjusting.  I really must defeat my Inner Robbie and Just Go, four times a week.  I have such a good time when I’m running, I sort out all kinds of stuff in my head and, in principle, it will get the weight off too.  Although on the way back I called in to The Spar and bought chocolate and crips.     

1.  Wonder Nanny

2. Dilemma

3.  Friday Night

Wonder Nanny today starts doing extra days for us.  Huzzah.  Her two weeks’ holiday were a blurry insight into what our lives without her would be.  Ages ago I read that the only way to work full-time is to bite the bullet and get the best childcare you can afford.  We are truly lucky having her.  Son 2 aged 1 went to activity class yesterday… and to church playgroup today.  Poor lamb.  As over-scheduled as if I were home with him.  Yesterday and today Son 1 aged 4 and I had to leave the house before Wonder Nanny arrived, and didn’t get home till after she’d gone.  Son 1 fell asleep in the car on the way back and barely woke before bedtime.

Son 1 seems happier and settled at the New Nursery, although I’m now wondering whether I should drop a day.    It is amazing, but it is a long hike over there, the traffic in the morning is horrible, and we have to get up and get out so early that I feel like I don’t see Son 2.   Now Wonder Nanny’s around, should I just let the poor child sit at home and play with his own toys for a bit before he gets sucked into education and never comes out again? Let him be with his brother for a bit?

My third Good Thing is just getting to the weekend.  I have finished today’s work from The Office (although there’s tonnes left for Monday) so in principle I don’t have to do any more all weekend.  After a very rough month with Son 2 and two Business Trips for The Man - I am starting to feel a bit battered.  And now I will just sit around all weekend while The Man makes the most of every opportunity to help.

1.  Sleep

2.  Blue Skies

3.  Home Win

The Man slept with Son 2 aged 1 last night, so I got some sleep.  Son 1 aged 4 came in at 5am and we had lovely snuggles.  Son 2 woke at 6 and I went down as soon as I knew Son 1 had gone back to sleep. Son 2 was on great form, pointing at things to eat and feeding me Cheerios with a delighted smile.  Then he was happy to play on the floor.  Breakfast I thought, making myself some cheese and crackers.  Then there was a wail from upstairs.  Son 1 had wet the Big Bed.

The Man stayed around while we got ready for The Beach.  We were the last of the Wednesday Friends to arrive.  The others were sitting on benches in glorious mild sunshine, with no wind.  Son 1 was wearing his reverseable Fireman Sam outfit.  Son 2 played in the sand, Son 1, the 3-year-old friend and two 2-year old friends formed a scary boy pack and had a small brother and sister playing nearby in tears.  i told Son 1 if the other children cried again we’d go home - which meant I had a very nervous half hour while they all settled down to play together. And then they were fantastic.  The boys had a great time; the mums got their coffees.

School Mum went to pick up the Eldest Friend, the Other Mum and I decided to have lunch in The Beach Cafe.  The Man joined us.  I really should have brought sandwiches for poor Son 1, he had a meltdown because he was starving.  ”I hate vanilla, I want chocolate.” So The Man bought him another ice cream (he hasn’t read the Perfect Parenting Pamphlet.) “This is coffee.  I hate it.”  He cheered up when he sprang the suprise Bob The Builder outfit change on our friends.  Son 2’s tally today included first smoothie drunk in entirety, first taste of ice cream and first taste of ice lolly.  Back on the beach the boys were pirates and I walked the plank many times.  During a drink break, two young women sat down very close to the large hole the boys were using as their swamp.  They buzzed like mosquitos , chatting to and ha-harring them.  The girls left.   We stayed nearly five hours and left to get back for Nanna.  The Boys Done Well. 

1.  Nightmare

2.  Rescue

3.  Reinforcementsj

Yet another godawful night.  Son 2 aged 1 woke when I went to bed - which was late because I had to work after my friends had gone.  And didn’t go back to sleep till 2am.  I’d been up since 6.  And was up again at 6 today.  But Son 2 listened to The Man on the phone and said “Hiya, hiya, hiya” with a great goofy grin on his face.  And then had an overtired meltdown during breakfast.  I am starting to get a bit vague.  I looked at the  page “Tuesday October 7″ in my open diary at The Office today and took quite a long time to realise the relevance of the date. 

However. Wonder Nanny is back.  Ta da.  She reacted very well to  my telling her that our domestic life has disintegrated in the nearly three weeks since she was last here.  And when I got back from The Office, Son 2 was smiling and Son 1 aged 4 had obviously had a great day.  Son 2 wobbled up and down on his trolley.  She’d had all the musical instruments out upstairs, with Son 2’s animal songs CD and Son 1’s drumkit.  

And The Man came back.  With two Where’s Wally  books for Son 1 - he wasn’t sure about that.  Books don’t count as presents when you’re four.  He’s been looking after Son 2 this evening while I got on with Office work.  Son 2 has woken up about six times.    I am looking forward to a night’s sleep.

1.  Watchful and wakeful

2.  Closing Time

3.  Mummies Night Out

Son 2 aged 1 woke up every 30 minutes yesterday evening.  He’s not in his cot, he’s on the double bed, where I’ve been lying next to him to get him to sleep.  Because he’s teething/missing his breast feed/missing Son 1 aged 4/missing Wonder Nanny/missing The Man.  And he’s now rousing himself every time he comes into light sleep and hollering for the missing body next to him.  This evening he’s only woken up 3 times.  How much Better Things Are Getting.

It was his last day at the Old Nursery today.  From tomorrow, Wonder Nanny looks after him 4 days a week.  I was up at 6 and didn’t stop, trying to get all three of us ready so I could drop Son 2 off, drive another 7 miles to drop Son 1 aged 4 off and still get into The Office on time. It was very hard on Son 2, the first into Nursery and the last out, as Son 1 and I charged cross country to try to get him before closing time.  We didn’t make it.  My fault.  I’d stopped off at a supermarket on the way to get the cash to settle up with the Old Nursery before I picked up Son 1.  (Couldn’t find cheque book.)  When I got there, late, they said “Oh yes. We’ll send you the bill. Didn’t have time to do it today.”

Some friends came round in the evening for a quick cuppa and a chat.  We cleared out The Man’s shelf of hula hoop, chili crisps and After Eights.  Son 2 only cried once when they were here.  It was good to see them, and we have a lofty aim of a once-weekly Mummies Night Out, which we could invite other people to drop in on as and when.