1. Tower
2. Towel
3. Trowel
I ended up in the Double Bed in Son 2 aged 21m’s room last night. With Son 2 and Son 1 aged 4y 9m. Didn’t work. Son 1 kept trying to reach across Son 2 to eyebrow me. Son 2 didn’t want him anywhere near him. Son 2 kept snaking off under the pillows, crying when he went too fast and bumped the top of his head on the wall. Son 1 didn’t want him in the middle. In the end I put Son 2 back in the cot and passed out. We stuck a Wiggles DVD on when they woke, but that didn’t work either. Son 1 wanted to play with his Tower Of Doom. I tugged it out from the corner of the room. Son 1 presented me with a dead fly he’d found on it. We decided to clean it out. Son 1 pelted off to get the duster. A four year old in Bob The Builder pyjamas dusting off the battlements with a green feather tickling-stick was weirdly camp. Son 2 earnestly rubbed with baby wipes. Imagine. If I’d had girls there’d be a dolls house with matching pink furniture instead of a castle whose residents include a dragon with three heads and a lion with two.
Son 1 was shrieking loud enough to peel the wallpaper off so I took both boys swimming. The only place that’ll have us is a Hotel Pool - we need more adults everywhere else - too deep for either child to stand. Which makes it tricky. We had a good time, but Son 1 craves attention and a partner in his games, and Son 2, butch, bullish, braveheart that he is, isn’t as confident as Son 1 was at the same age. He can float along on his armbands but sees no reason why he should, and always sends a little fat hand out for my swimming costume. He got tired, quickly, and pointed at his Tigger robe, draped over a handrail. “Towel. Towel.” We span it out another 20 minutes.
After lunch we planted out our sunflower plants into big pots ready for our race. 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 off Son 2, with predictable results. It rained. Hard. We eventually got six pots, one each, one for Wonder Nanny and a sparee. Son 2 looked longingly at the compost in the finished pots and went for a fistful. I fended him off. With predictable results. We have new pots, we have six foot 17p bamboo canes, we have our only sunny spot. We are off.
Tags: Castle, co-sleeping, eyebrow, eyebrowing, hotel pool, re-potting, sunflowers, swimming, Tower of Doom
