1.  Splashback

2.  Flashback

3.  Backtrack

Son 2 aged 20m came in the bath with me this morning.  This was a Good Thing. From when he was tiny, Son 2 lay on his feeding pillow watching me in the shower.  Then he sat up and watched me i in the shower. Then he crawled towards the bath.  Then he pulled himself up.  And then he used to play in the water, every morning, while I showered and washed my hair.  Always. At some point recently he wouldn’t come in with me any more.  I can’t remember when. Son 1 aged 4y 8m had started watching DVDs downstairs instead of Ben 10-style CItv upstairs… and Son 2 was interested in some of them.  Or he was playing with toys.  I’ve given him the choice, and off he’s gone.  This morning we read 5 stories, and he decided to come in with me.  Played with his new watering cans, didn’t want to get out. Nice to have him back.

I went for coffee with a Colleague on maternity leave.  An eight month old little girl in the pushchair with us.  I held her, and realised I simply couldn’t remember either of the boys at that age.  So I’ve been back a year in the Blog.  http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2008/06/09/before-7am/ On June 9 2008 I’d just had an awful night with Son 2 screaming for me, so bad that I’d left him alone in the small hours and gone downstairs to make a cup of tea.  The following day I took him to a cranial osteopath.  Now he sleeps through the night, every night.  He can cry when I put him down, but never for more than 5 minutes. And today he went to sleep without crying when I left.  It all passes.

 Son 1 is mad about a Nick Sharrett book called “You Choose.”  It came from Nursery in his Bookstart box, and we start off choosing where we are going to go, what sort of house we will live in, who our family and friends will be, our furniture, clothes, food, transport, jobs, hobbies and bed.  Well, I choose, and Son 1 says “I’m coming with you.” Tonight we chose a tree house in a forest near a village.  Then we did Pumpkin Soup, A Pipkin of Pepper and Delicious. Then I asked: “Did you get the book for me?”  Oxfam, again, had a book in the window about a child with Son 2’s (unusual) name.  http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/04/29/well-done-mummy/ Son 1 and I had it from the library when I was pregnant.  It may have been where I first got the name idea.   I’d asked Wonder Nanny to get it.  “Yes.”  “Did you read it?” “Yes.”  What are the chances of Oxfam, a few hundred yards from our house, putting two children’s books in the window, both featuring the same very unusual boy’s name?   There is glue holding this world together.

1.  Hair Brush

2.  Paint Brush

3.  Tooth Brush

Son 1 aged 4y 6m and Son 2 aged 19m slept in till 7am.  Eight hours’ sleep.  Unheard of.  Amazing.  Carved on stone tablets as A Good Thing.  Son 1 aged 4y 6m needed a wee and I had beaten him to it.  Sitting on the floor, his legs in his little “W” shape, he gazed up at me.  There is not another man alive who would look at me, sitting on the loo, in my pyjamas, no make up, mad professor hair, and say: “You’re so beautiful.”

I left The Office late, again.  Another phone call to Wonder Nanny.  Another “No Worries,” from her.   I got home to a silent house.  They were all outside.  Son 1 naked, painting the shed with water and a big brush.  Son 2 stripped down to his nappy, playing with a plastic toy box full of water.  Son 1 hopped around, whooping, excited.  Son 2 was beside himself at seeing me, and then burst into tears as a full paintbrush-load of cold water was flicked all over him by an out-of-control Son 1. 

Books, bath, bed.  Son 2 was in the bath, Son 1 and I were cleaning his teeth.  Two brushrounds downstairs, two brushrounds upstairs, One For Luck and A Good Old Spit in the sink between each one.  Son 1 has added another part to the ritual.  We press our faces together photo-fashion, look in the mirror and smile.   This evening he looked at our reflections and again, out of the blue said  ”You are beautiful, Mummy.”  I had them both in bed and asleep before 8pm, which considering the time I got back, was another Very Good Thing Indeed.

1. Soaking

2.  Nesting

3.  Choices

I had a bath.  Door closed. Several drops of Tea tree oil.  I have a stinking cold, and The Man entertained the boys this morning while I soaked and steamed.  It was great. Younger Sister gave me a very nice bottle of bubble bath for my birthday last year and I’ve only just finished it.  I never get near the bath. Just showers. With one or two boys at my feet, playing in the water collecting with the plug in.  Or with the plug out. If they like.   I used to be very into aromatherapy, but then I had a godawful cold lasting about three weeks, and afterwards I had no sense of smell. About 6 years ago.  No-one minded except me. I saw a consultant privately: “Oh sometimes you get catastrophic nerve damage with upper respiratory infections. There isn’t anything anyone can do.”  So. I still can’t really smell anything, but I had a tea tree oil bath last time I felt fluey and the bug wandered off again.  I’ve been putting lavender oil on Son 1 aged 4 y 6m’s pillow, and Son 2 aged 18m’s sleeping bag, and, unarguably,  they have been sleeping better.  And this morning I was wrecked and wretched, but able to function after my bath. Even though I can’t smell.   I am reconverted. I think you’re supposed to alternate camomile with lavender for sleep problems, because in the end your system gets used to the oils and they won’t work as well. But can I use it on children?  I never learnt that Before.  

The Man is stressed, so he was building shelves all day.  Under pressure,  it is usually sheds, but sometimes shelving. Or compulsive tidying.  We now have a new shoe and coat rack in the hall.  Hooks expected any day now.  He’s also made a mammoth book shelf in Son 2’s room for all the childrnen’s books. While he went to B and Q and Jewson, we played.  Playdough mainly.  Son 1 was engrossed in operation: making little shapes that the patient had eaten.  Earlier, his game had been scratching in an ink pad with a feather to try writing.  Son 2 was now pressing the feather into a big lump of red playdough.  Then he was waddling around with the playdough under his sock and the feather stuck to his foot by the playdough.

The boys and I went to the library.  I’n't Libraries Great? They just are.  I apologised for our 14 books. ”It’s ok, it’s 18 per ticket.”  Son 1 had a book that I said we shouldn’t get. He took it over to the scanning machine and put it in the tray. “Mummy bring me the ticket!” Won’t be long before he can download all my pictures and back up my blog for me.   Of course we took out the book he wanted.  Nanna came over.  Son 2 took one look at her, did his dance and pointed upstairs.  = “Shall we watch The Wiggles?”  He cried when the DVD finished.  I made Jamie Oliver fish pie for all. Reasonably successful, although Son 1 has decided he doesn’t like prawns. He had two helpings of cabbage though. Paragon sticker to him.

Nanna waited after bedtime and The Man and I went out for a drink. I had a champagne cocktail to celebrate being back at work a year.

1.  Bathing Beauty

2.  Separation Anxiety

3.  Feeling Hot, Hot, Hot  

0530.  Son 2 aged 16m.  WAAAAAH.  I pelted down, desperate to get there before he woke Son 1 aged 4y 4m.  Put him in the bed, snugged next to him. Nope.  He wanted up.  After a Very Long Time, annoyed that he wouldn’t go back to sleep,  I plonked him back in the cot and went to the loo.  Hell was unleashed.  So there we all were.  Up.  I was reading to Son 2.  The Man had a shower.  Son 2 wriggled down from the bed, toddled off to stare up at him and started pulling at his baby pyjamas.  In he went.   The Man came out. In I went.  Son 2 played and chattered.  I dressed, picked up the toys, put them away, went to get Son 2’s clothes.  “A-Ma,” he said, pointing at the browny matter half-sinking beside him.    But on the bright side, at least I’ had already taken all the toys out…

I got out of The Office spot on 5pm.  Driving home there were two calls from The Man on my mobile.  One I can ignore… I’m driving, I’m not pulling over.  Two… what does he want?  PIcking up from somewhere?  Can-you-get-some-vital-item?  I pulled over.  He is all right now.  He has seen Wonder Nanny’s car driving past.  He’d arrived home at 5pm and the children weren’t there.  He thought something must have happened.  “Now I know how worried you get when you’re in the house without us I’ll make sure it never happens again,” I told him.  “Goodbye,” he said.  Only not that politely.    

The boys had spent the day with two brothers aged 4 and nearly-three and their Nanny.  They’d been for tea at the other house.  Son 1 isn’t well.  Temperature, headache, obviously feeling lousy.  i gave him Calpol… Son 2 begged some.  I got out our fancy new ear thermometer.  He was very upset  “I don’t want it in my ear.”  I took The Man’s temperature.  Son 1 took mine.  (I was definitely iller than The Man.)  Son 1 was 38.9.  Ah. I’ve just put that in an online converter.  Part of the skill in taking children’s temperatures is obviously… er… understanding Celsius.    Oops.   Son 2 refused his bath.  The Man put him in, and he instantly hurdled out, crying.  He pulled his panda towel off the radiator, took it to the place I dry him each night, put it on the floor and sat on it.  I got the message and put him to bed.   Both of them down before 7.  Unheard of.  Son 2 has woken since; I’ve given him Calpol and he’s gulped water. I think we are in for a stormy night.

1.  Get Me Out Of Bed

2.  Get Me Out Of This Museum

3.  Get Me Out Of The Garden And The Bath

Son 2 aged 14m slept till 0630.   Wah Wah Wah.  I went down and snugged in to bed with him.  He wanted to get up.  He span round and round in his sleeping bag till he was trussed up like a fly in a web Wah Wah Wah.  I took his sleeping bag off and That Was It.  I gave up at the point where I was lying down and holding on to his legs as he locked himself horizontally, laughing, hands death-gripping the cot rails to stop me pulling him back into the bed.  We Were Getting Up.  He is iron-willed, he is physical, he is strong and he is clever.  There’s always boarding school.

We went to The Museum with our Wednesday Friends.  Son 2 had a nap, so we got there late.  One Mum was on her way out for the school pick up.  Son 1 and his Friend crayoned. Son 2 tipped the crayons out, finger-walked, and headed for the glazed walls Trying To Get Out.  We had the Captain Hook costume under The Big Pram.  The Friend put it on, suggesting Son 1 be Peter Pan.  Son 1 was not going to be Peter Pan, although he did tell Son 2 he could be Mr Smee.  I did lots of Turn Taking/How Kind/Good Sharing stuff.   Son 1 wanted his outfit back.

We went to a pizza place for lunch, The Man joined us briefly and Son 1 ate well.  We got back and the children played in the front garden.  I finger-walked with Son 2, who held onto the railings, threw the gravel into the pavement, pointed at the dogs and Awowed at the passers by.  Son 1 played on the pavement outside, Son 2 tried to work out the gate latch.  A Mum we know went past with a double buggy, toddler asleep, baby awake.  We chatted.  Son 2 fell over and cut his lip, his mouth bleeding.  Nanna came and I did sausage, mash and peas for tea. Son 2 melted down with tiredness. We put him in the bath and he wouldn’t sit down, howling, reaching, lifting up his legs and looking for a foothold. I have been so desperate to be with my baby, and he has spent my entire day off trying to leave home.

1.  Bathtime

2.  Second and third steps

3.  Happy birthday

I had a long bath this morning while The Man looked after the boys.  I’m suffering from stopping breastfeeding - clumps of concrete have formed and things are very tender.  I was pushing Son 1 aged 4y 1m and Son 2 aged 13m away from cuddles this morning because it’s too painful when they bash my chest.  So I had the bath to myself and things seemed to get better.  Although I’m very fluey now and more concrete lumps have formed.  Hopefully it’s just a cold and not mastitis, which I had last time round when I stopped.

Granny and Granddad arrived, and Son 2 demonstrated sharp timing by standing on request, with a big smile on his face, and then tottering forwards, right left right left… Twice.  He had a bit more control over it this time.  It was nice that The Man saw him do it too.  I think Granddad is hoping Son 2 will walk properly during their week down.  Son 1 and Son 2 did some drum and keyboard solos.  Granny was very enthusiastic, not quite sure about Granddad.  Son 1 was very loud indeed.

The Dover Sole tea was a success.  I did home made chips, parsley sauce and peas, and left Granny to deal with the fish.  Son 2 wolfed it and ate three helpings of sauce.  Son 1 stuffed himself with chips and finally ate some fish and parsley sauce when he saw Son 2 demolishing his.  He just about managed to stay at the table for the meal, which is a real achievement for him.  Son 1 chose Granny a Colin The Caterpillar cake from M and S, we sang Happy Birthday, Son 1 blew the candles out.  Granny opened her presents and cards.  Son 2 was hanging with tiredness because of the clock change. 

1.  Bath-time

2.  2 boys asleep 

3.  The Family

Holiday. The first week off we have together as a family, just us, since Christmas.  I had a bath instead of a shower, with my birthday bubble bath.  And 2 small boys.  Son 2 aged 11m was in first, fascinated by the bubbles, clenching and unclenching his hand, staring at them as they popped.  Son 1 came running in, stripped off and stepped in.  Son 2 instantly started splashing him and laughing. Great big baby hand splashes, and leaning back against me and kicking with his fat legs.  Then he started bouncing - enjoying the bouyancy of a bath far fuller than normal.  I lifted him each time, and he chortled and chortled, splashing Son 1.  Son 1 played with the bubbles.  Son 2 was getting cold, so The Man took him to get him dry.  HOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWLLLLLL.   I used to have baths with Son 1 every Saturday morning.  Today was the second time Son 2’s had a bath with me.  Pang.

We gave the boys an early lunch, and then headed into Town.  Son 1 was playing up, Son 2 was screeching - both with tiredness.    So.  Son 2 in the Big Pram.  Son 1 in the buggy.  We figured we could push them to The Square on the other side of Town and they’d be asleep, and then we could have a coffee.   By the time we got across Town, Son 1 was dozing.  Then something being loaded into a shop dropped with a loud clatter, and he nearly leapt out of the buggy.  I saw his hands flail out at the sides like a startled newborn, but he didn’t wake.  They were both asleep when we got to the cafe.  We ordered coffee. Workmen were dismantling the Festival marquee in The Square.  Even before the drinks arrived, a pole was dropped.  CLANG.    A loud wail from the Big Pram.  Son 2 didn’t go back to sleep.        

The family came down from Far Far Away.  Teenaged Niece has been competing in a sea swimming contest over the weekend, about an hour’s drive from us.  She, Sister In Law and Teenaged Nephew were coming over for a cup of tea before heading home this afternoon.  They’re back down again at the weekend.   It took us about half an hour to wake Son 1.  He’s always adored his cousins and he was delighted.  TNc and TNp were young and charming.  She’d won silver medals, and talked about drinking games while she was competing in Germany.  He had huge headphones on the whole time “Have you heard of Coldplay?” and was pestering SiL to get him the latest Artemis Fowl.   ”More sleep, but different challenges,” said Sister In Law.

1. Breakfast time

2. Nap time

3. Bathtime

Son 2 aged 9m had another good night - he woke at 2am crying, and then went back to sleep, and then woke just before six, and just lay in his cot chatting until I got up at 0630.  Son 1 aged 3 and a half stayed in his bed and waited till we came to him - just like he used to in the pre-Son 2 days.  “Is Daddy here today?” “No.” “Wail.” ”Would you like me to ring Daddy so you can hear his voice?” “Yes.”  So I rang The Man, and passed the phone over to Son 1.  Who hurled it out of the bed and on to the floor. 

Just about made it back from The Office in time for Wonder Nanny’s finishing time.  She was thrilled with Son 1, who had been a little paragon for her all day.  Son 2 had slept for two hours, during which Son 1 had slept for an hour.  Son 1 had eaten all his meals sitting on his chair without running around and had asked to get down.  Son 1 had eaten an enormous tea of pizza, a whole can of tuna, pasta, sweetcorn and yoghurt. And then two home made biscuits.     Oh how I praised Son 1.  I told him I was very proud of him, that it made me feel very happy to hear Wonder Nanny talking like that, that it was lovely to come home to find out how good he’d been.   Son 1 beamed from ear to ear and waved Wonder Nanny off.

And sprouted horns, cloven feet and a tail.  He screeched so loudly he perforated my ear drum.  He snatched away whatever toy Son 2 was playing with.  He screamed and sobbed because I wouldn’t let him have another biscuit.   He kicked toys around the kitchen.  He put his arms around Son 2 and squeezed him till he cried.  He was a Grade A* little sh-I-try-not-to-use-bad-language-about-my-children.  “Why were you so nice for Wonder Nanny, and now you’re being so naughty?” “Because you don’t know what to do Mummy.”  Too right.  Surprised it’s taken you this long to notice. I got them both stripped and in the bath.  Whereupon Son 2 pulled the plug out.  Twice.