1. Dealing Cards
2. The Long Shot
3. A Winner
So. It was nearly 10pm by the time The Man and I got the boys to bed last night and, whacked out as we both were after heaving Son 2 aged 22m round a two-mile walking carnival, we rubbed our hands and chinked our glasses in anticipation of this morning’s lie in. Nope. Atomic Testing began before 7am. The Man’s birthday, so he was allowed a Lie In, and the boys and I went downstairs to wrap the presents and write the cards. Yes I know, but I’ve been busy. Son 1 aged 4y 10m surveyed the present pile: a DVD boxed set, a DVD and three CDs. He picked the singing birthday card, the DVD boxed set and the DVD, picked the pirate wrapping paper and set about stringing sellotape round and round. It was crinkled, it was wobbly, it wouldn’t have survived the Royal Mail, but he wrapped it all himself. Son 2 and I did three CDs, my card, his card and a singing Happy Birthday badge. We took them all up to The Man with a cup of tea, and Son 1 unwrapped everything. The Man was pleased with his presents, but is still planning to buy himself some essentials for The Boat.
Son 2 was floppy, clingy, cross and impossible to please. Son 1 aged 4y 10m wasn’t much better. Son 2 wouldn’t be put down. This was a Good Thing, because somewhere - probably Mumsnet - I have been reading about how babies end up with attachment disorders if they have Distant Mothers. Since when I have been consumed by trying to decide how clingy is Clingy Enough. Son 1 was lying full-length on the floor, cheek on the carpet, playing sideways with his Lego. The Man was allowed to do whatever he wanted, because it was his birthday. He wanted to go and look around DIY stores. Son 1 wanted to go to the Balloon Shop and choose balloons. I thought there was an outside chance that they would both sleep in the Pram/Buggy and then we could Do Nothing. The Man liked the odds, so we pushed the boys into The Town. Son 2 passed out in the Big Pram, Son 1 didn’t. Back at the house, we piled them into the car and drove to the Big Town. Son 1 fell asleep, Son 2 didn’t.
We were having roast chicken for the Birthday Tea. Son 2 stood at the sink in his nappy and a Thomas The Tank Engine Apron, on a chair, cleaning potatoes with the washing up sponge, singing to himself, squeezing pools of water on the floor and pressing the buttons on the microwave. The kitchen felt hot, and that was when I noticed I’d had the chicken roasting at Gas Mark 7 for more than an hour. I whacked the gas down and improvised. The bird was fine, and I cut 20 minutes off the cooking time. Nanna came for tea, the boys ate well, and we popped party poppers. The boys blew out the candles on the Colin The Caterpillar smartie cake. Many times. At bedtime we read Birthday Stories. Mr Birthday. Ziggy’s Birthday. Happy Birthday Winnie The Witch. Little Rabbit Gets Lost. Little Rabbit’s birthday present is a trip to Rabbit World. Rabbit World has rabbit roller coasters, a rabbit pirate ship, carrot pedal boats and a rabbit rocket ship. Son 1 studied the pictures carefully. “I wish there was a People World,” he said.
Tags: attachment disorders, Balloon Shop, birthday, birthday presents, clinginess, Colin The Caterpillar, cooking, lego, lie-in, Little Rabbit, microwave, Thomas The Tank Engine, tiredness, Winnie the Witch
