1.  Red Flag

2.  White Flag

3.  Chequered Flag

We finished washing up at 0130 last night. Both The Man and I must have drunk about a bottle of wine each over the course of the evening.  In our Youth that would have been a warm up.  This is not our Youth.  Fortysomething, hungover, sleep-deprived and with two under-five boys on a wet Saturday.  It was a slow, difficult day.  Son 1 aged 4y 9m and Son 2 aged 22m woke up in the same room for the first time. “Mummmeeee!”  and then, from Son 1 “Boo.”  It was 0630. I scooped them up, put them in the Big Bed and put CBeebies on. They lasted till 7. “Can we have some food?” asked Son 1.  Downstairs we went.  They cruised on fruit and breadsticks, and then didn’t want breakfast. Fine, I thought, I’d do lunch early if necessary.  1030. They wanted breakfast. 

We rounded up library books and headed out with the Big Pram and the Buggy.  Son 1 insisted on going in the Big Pram. Son 2 wouldn’t go in the Buggy. “Walk. Walk.” We went to the library and changed the books.  To the bookshop, to buy a pirate book for Son 1.  Who woke up screaming last night and had to be carried down to see the guests. “I was completely scared of the people I didn’t know.” Then to the fishmonger for salmon for tea. Son 2 slept. Son 1 didn’t.   It rained and rained.

When we got back we all piled upstairs on the Big Bed. We had The Cat In The Hat on the DVD. The Man on one side, me on the other, the boys inbetween. The Man and I were both trying to snooze. Son 1 was bashing seven bells out of Son 2. Son 1, over-tired and off the impulse-control scale, couldn’t be quiet, sit still, stop pestering Son 2, or obey any of the other commands I barked at him.   Nanna came round and gave them their Adult Attention Fix while The Man and I got tea.    We love our boys, but bedtime was a blessed relief.

1.  Roast Beef

2.  Short Sharp Shock

3.  Red Red Wine

One of my mad, over-scheduled days. Son 1 aged 4y 9m, Son 2 aged 21m, Wonder Nanny and I were heading up to the Fun Park… and then we were having six friends round for dinner.  Tra la la.  I went for a run while the boys had breakfast.  We left before 11, stopping off at The Farm Shop to get the meat - a sirloin joint. ( I am an idle vegetarian cook.  Take one slab of good meat, put in oven for one hour plus, bingo, guests grateful and impressed.)  Son 2 was asleep, Son 1 wanted to get out. A peacock was parading its tail, so we let him. 

We got to the Fun Park in time for lunch. Both boys picked, but ate mighty pieces of cake. Soft Play Zone, then Scooby Doo house. Then a horse show in the rain.  The Fun Park train stood waiting in front of us as it finished, with the rain lashing down. We got in it. In the seats behind us was a family - very young dad, three year old ish boy, seven year old ish boy, young mum, very new (13 weeks) baby.  We chatted. Son 1 and Son 2 blagged cake from them.  Then the three year old boy bit the dad and the dad slapped him, hard and loud. The boy wailed.  ”Don’t bite me. Give us a kiss. I love you,” said the dad. ”What did he just do to that boy?” asked Son 1.  It was sudden, it was shocking, it was sickening.  I don’t think it was legal.  And the only thing I did was Stop Talking To Them.

We got back home at about 5, and The Man had manoeuvred a whopping sheet of plywood out of his shed and down into the kitchen-diner.  Son 1 looked at it. “Will there be crackers?” Which tells you when we last did a dinner party. http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2008/12/30/whales-and-snails/  We got the boys to bed “You can come down once.  If you come down once, you get a pirate book tomorrow. If you come down more than once, there will be no book. That’s the deal.”  Couple One arrived while I was down at the shops getting horse radish.  It has been so long since we did dinner that I timed the main course and the starter to be ready at the same time. Ar.  Didn’t matter. Clever menu.  Prawns, then Beef, new potatoes  and salads.  I had sun dried tomatoes and salads.  Couple Two arrived, then Couple Three, bringing an iPod with an Eighties Mix on it. We spent a happy evening guessing the songs.  We had a great time. Apart from me putting two bottles of red wine in the freezer.

1.  Secret Screams

2.  Secret Pictures

3.  Secret Peace

Son 1 aged 4y 9m has escaped Night Terrors. Other Mums have sat there with their screaming, staring children, sleeping spookily bolt upright in bed as they yelled and yelled.  Not Son 1. Until we put Son 2 aged 21m in with him.  And lo.  Last night.  Shouts and screams, loud enough to wake The Terrace.  While sound asleep.  Son 2 - who can be woken by an eyeblink  - slept through it. 

Wonder Nanny has an eye problem, so we were on our own today.  The children were worn out, so we aimed at a Boat Trip, the idea being, as usual, that the chug of the Little Fishing Boat engine would White Noise the lads off to sleep. And The Man and I would get Peace And Quiet.  Son 1 didn’t want to go on The Boat.  Son 1 had seen Mr Maker doing secret pictures.  White wax crayons, biscuit cutters and ink.  He was busting.  We left Son 2 playing with water (”Wa Wa. Wa Wa.”) in the garden while we quickly made the secret pictures. I crayoned. Son 1 inked.  He loved the results.

Son 2 saw some choc rolls going into the picnic bag.  “Choc choc. Choc choc.” He pushed a little green chair across the kitchen, stood up and pulled the picnic bag off. It fell on his head, and knocked him off the chair. He landed on his bag on the floor with the picnic bag on top of him.  Both boys dived for lunch as soon as we got out on The Boat.  I’d forgotten the suntan lotion, which ruled out the beach as an option.  We chugged along the river instead. Son 2 eventually went to sleep. Son 1 didn’t. He painted in the cabin. The Man and I drank coffee. ”Is there any hot chocolate for children?” asked Son 1. Good point. We’ll get some.  The river is wide and peaceful, greenly wooded on each side below great expanses of sky.  Like swimming in the sea, it helps.