1.   Cots

2.   Coughs

3.   Cartoons

Son 1 aged 5y 1m in the Big Bed whispered in the dark:  “Is it time to get up?”  “Dunno.Whatdoestheclocksay?”  ”Six… two…five. No!  Six… five.. five… No! Six… two… five…”  “Well which one is it?”  The child cannot tell the time, and he is still a bit wobbly on his fives and twos. But 0625 is achievable, and five to seven is Armageddon. I’d been awake most of the night and couldn’t get my eyes open. ”Six two five. I think.” It was a Good Thing.  I went to the bathroom to put my contact lenses in, and heard Son 2 aged 2y 1m stir. By the time I got downstairs, Son 1 had turned the light on, climbed in the cot and was lying next to Son 2.  “Look Mummy. I got my Son 1,” he said. Son 1 cuddled him, cute, cute, cute. I leant down towards Son 2. “Shall I get you up?” He looked me in the eye. “Go ‘way Mummy.”  ”Let me take this off then,” I reached for his sleeping bag. ”NO!” he screeched. ”Go ‘way Mummy.”  “What about your nappy?  Have you done a poo?” “I all right.” I went downstairs and put the coffee on.

I’ve finished at The Office now until a week on Friday. This is a Good Thing. I’m so tired my eyes are watering,  I’ve still got a rattling cough and my throat hasn’t been back to normal since I lost my voice.  I haven’t taken more than a week off at once since my maternity leave finished.  http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2008/03/28/back-to-work/ I really would like a little lie down.

They were excited when I came home, but it was controllable.  They took forever over their jelly, and then span bathtime out.  Son 2 sat happily through five books and then harrassed Son 1 by throwing toys in his bath. Son 1 was in a very complicated narrative game involving Dory, Nemo and  floating sea horses.  I swapped them over - I don’t bath them together because of Son 1’s molluscum - and Son 2 weed in the water with a big smile on his face. And then drank it while I was cleaning Son 2’s teeth.  Not quite as delightful as the moment when, lying on the nappy mat, he stuck his finger up his bum: “I touch my poo” and then stuck it up his nose.  I will see if I can get him to stop doing that before he wants to go out with girls.

1.  Sleeping

2.  Smiling

3.  Sluicing

And of course I couldn’t get either of them up this morning. The Man left at 0530 on a Business Trip. I got up, had coffee, had breakfast, emptied dishwasher, hung washing out, put washing on, put boys’ breakfast out, showered, did hair and make up and STILL they weren’t bothering.  Why.  Why at the weekend, when I am gripping my bed like I’m on a 20th-floor ledge, do they make me get up? And then why do they not even hear me in the week? Even Son 2 aged 2, the original I WILL WALK 500 MILES AND I WILL WALK 500 MORE hypercharged baby was comatose.   I got them up, and I got us out.

When I picked Son 1 aged 5 up from school, he burrowed in his bag and produced several proof sheets from the school photos taken last week. Wonder Nanny had taken Son 2 along as well, so there were five of the two of them together.  i have long told Son 1 that if he smiles nicely in official photos, Mummy will buy him a present. The pictures are truly fantastic, and Son 1 knew it.  Crumple of small boy when he realised I didn’t have a present with me.  In my defence, I had said I needed to see the smiles first. We have agreed we will try and get to a joke shop tomorrow to see if they have a magic wand. 

I did them corn on the cob for tea. Served with little sharp skewery things in each end.  Kitchen gadgets I bought in the days when I though we weren’t having children.  Son 2 pulled his out and started shoving one through his teeth. Son 1 played pirates with his. The corn was too hot to eat, so I sliced it off onto their plates. Son 1 stared at the pile in disbelief. “I want it back on,” he wailed.  Upstairs Son 2 was in the bath while I sorted washing and Son 1 spoke to Birthday Boy Godbrother on the phone. “Big Poo!” came the battle cry. We went in. There was a toy turtle floating in the bubbles on the top. But nothing sinister. I put my hand in for the turtle. It wasn’t a turtle.  And my hand went straight through it, a five-fingered macerator which scattered the soft turd down, along and up the sides of the bath.    Son 2 couldn’t have had more toys in the bath if he’d piled up every one he owns in there.  Today’s Top Tip.  In net laundry bags (Lakeland and kitchen shops,) in the washing machine, Quick Wash. ”Big Poo,” said Son 2 again. We put him on the booster loo seat. He performed. Four chocolate buttons each for a poo in the loo.  Keeps the children still and quiet for just long enough to spray and wash the bath out.

1.  Mummy Vanishes

2.  Fishing

3.  Finding Nemo

The Man was still alive this morning.  “I did think you might be worried.  I’ll take my phone up with me next time.”  “Is it a Wonder Nanny day today?” asked Son 1 aged 4y 10m as I was getting ready for The Office.  “Yes,” I said. “And then Mummy will be with you tomorrow.” He let off a high wail.  “You don’t (sob) love your boys (sob.)”  Thanks for that one Son 1, I’ll even up a little when I’m in the nursing home.  Son 2 aged 23m was a little darling. “Neno!  Neno!” I do an abridged version of Son 1’s Disney book. “Tak Ta!”  His lift-the-flap farm book.  I almost got him to sit all the way through The Cat In The Hat last night. The Cat was a winner, so was the fish.  He went walkabout well before Mother Came Home.

I had to drive to The City. The roads were ok, it’s always good to see my colleagues from The City Office, and someone said something very nice to me in a meeting. On the way back I stopped at Waitrose because we’re out of Cheerios and tea. A friend wants Wonder Nanny to take her child as well as our two for one day.  Fine, I said, but I’ll have to ask Wonder Nanny. She’d gone by the time I got back. Son 1 pelted down the stairs to greet me, Son 2 just sat up top laughing. 

Son 2 is great. “How old are you going to be on your birthday, Son 2?” “Doooo.”  We sat and read, and then he had his bath, lying face down, full length in it as he played with two tigers and a donkey. His post-bath game is called “Boo.” It involves him lying down with a towel over him. “Daddy, Daddy, something terrible’s happened!  I can’t find Son 2!”  Daddy comes in - somehow this is always timed just after he’s lain down on the bed - lifts up the towel and there is Son 2, who laughs his head off.  Son 1 also plays. He comes in, points at Son 2 and says “He’s there. Under the towel. He’s always under the towel.  Every time.” Again, thanks for that. I put a toy Nemo we’ve had hanging around for ages into the cot with Son 2 tonight, in the hope it might stop him screaming for me the minute I leave. He still screamed, but not for as long.  Could this possibly be the solution?

1. Lying In

2. Swimming In The Sea

3. Bubbles

The trial I was sitting on involved a lot of complicated details about ants.  The whole court was deeply interested, but I just didn’t understand a word. “Mummy, Son 2 wants you.” Son 1 aged 4y 8m, standing by the side of the bed. 0750. “GoandtellhimI’mcoming.”  I got up slowly, put my contact lenses in and went down. Son 1 had switched on both lamps and was lying in the cot with Son 2 aged 20m. “I said did he want me to get in with him and he nodded!”

We went to the Beach Between The Headlands with friends and their 6 year old. A glorious Factor 50 day. Son 1 played in the sea in his wetsuit, Son 2 played and paddled and sat in the water.  I willed him to sleep, but he didn’t want to. “Ball.” The Friend fed him jammy dodgers, and he liked her enough to sta with her while I went Swimming In The Sea.  The water was flat and freezing. I could get away without the boob lift if I make this a habit.  My skin shrank and goose-bumped so much as I inched my way in that I was positively pert by the time I was shoulder-high. It was perishing, but as usual, bearable after a few minutes. The water was emerald from the reflected greenery either side of the cove.  It was heavenly.  A Good Thing that I got a sea swim in May, a Good thing that I’m still able to manage it when The Man is away.  Dressed and dry, I took the boys for ice cream. Son 1 and I chose a Mr Man raspberry ice lolly for Son 2. He cried with wanting it while we waited to pay.  I unwrapped it and he took one look, burst into tears, wouldn’t touch it and stomped back to the freezer to gaze longily at the Smartie lollies. He cried all the way back to the Pram, repeatedly refusing the raspberry one. I ate it, and he shared my choc ice.

Bathtime was lovely.  I was signing. Son 2 was slotting cotton buds through the end of an empty cleaner tube.  Son 1 was chewing the cotton off the ends of cotton buds, and doing great long bubbly farts, to great comic effect.  He farted, both boys laughed hysterically, I laughed. Their eyes shine, their smiles sparkle, they are full of joy and love and fun.

1.  A Nice Rest

2.  Back To Work

3.  On The Road Again

The Man and I were up before Son 1 aged 4y 6m and Son 2 aged 18m.  6am.  He was on his computer.  I was reading Sunday paper magazines.  Son 1 arrived with a “Ta Da!” entrance.  He sat playing with his toy karaoke machine, singing away to the alphabet, counting songs and dances.  After the alphabet he snuck a quick over at me to make sure I was watching.  I had of course made sure that I was.  At 7am we started wondering whether Son 2 was still breathing, so Son 1 helpfully said he’d go upstairs to check.  In we went.  A little form, lying, still, on his tummy, his sleeping bag corkscrewed around him, his breathing deep and quiet. Son 1 and I buried ourselves in the double bed.  He eyebrowed.  “Don’t go to sleep Mummy,” he said, noticing me taking a sneaky opportunity for a Nice Rest and peeling my eyelid up.  In the end Son 2 stirred.  Bleary-eyed. red-faced, round-cheeked, and adorable.

I haven’t been into The Office for eight days, and everything was ok.  A Good Thing. The woman on the Lancome counter at Boots swapped the foundation I’d bought myself for Mother’s Day.  No receipt. But she changed it for one I like better.  Another Good Thing.  I’ve been credit-crunching with some Tesco foundation, and it’s made me look old and exhausted.  At least that’s what I think it is.

Quite late back so didn’t see much of the boys.  They were both in the bath, gorgeous.  Son 2 was militant as soon as he saw me, standing up and trying to get out.   Then he slipped and nearly zoomed under water, panic in his eyes, little hiccup-ing cries.  I scooped him out, wrapped him up in a towel and there-there-d him.   Son 1 instantly dived like a striker in the penalty box.  Again and again.  When they were in bed I went out for a run for the first time for ages.  I didn’t get to three miles because of a hip flexor twinge… but I certainly did a good two.  I got rained on, but it was light, so who cares.

1.  Fascination

2.  Forgotten

3.  Forgiven

Both boys stayed in their own beds.  And Son 2 aged 17 didn’t start crying till about 0615.  Calloo, callay.  Son 1 aged 4y 5m invaded Son 2’s book-reading.  A crane parked on the road outside.  Big.  Orange.  Flashing hazard lights.  Son 2 was transfixed.  Seizing the mo, I read him the crane page from Dig Dig Digging.  He loved it.  And then, raptures and relish, the bin men came, so he got to watch the Rubbish Trucks Made For Gobble Gobble Gobbling.  He squealed and pointed for The Man when he came in.  He stared at pictures of vehicles in a photo book and stabbed at them with a little chubby finger.  He kept going to the window to see if anything else good was coming down the road.

At The Office someone was talking about their very elderly father, and some memory questions he’d been given.  He did all right on his name and date of birth.  But then when he’d been asked about his parents: “I know I had a mother, I just don’t remember her name.”  Ouch. Pang. Yow.

Very Late Indeed.  Two boys in the bath when I got back, shiny, wet, smiling.  They’d been to the Zoo with Wonder Nanny.  Son 2 held out his arms and tried getting his foot over the side to get out.  He cried and clamoured to be cuddled, and then instantly snapped his interest over to the sink, standing on the chair, can I help him wash his hands which is his favourite thing.   And Son 1 had coloured me a picture of The Incredibles.  “You will be amazed.”  “All day long I drew it.” “Do you really really like it?”  I love it.  ”I will do one for Daddy tomorrow.”

1.  Goat Bait

2.  Candlemass

3.  Brothers In Arms

The Man left at 3am on a Business Trip, so we collected Nanna and headed for The Bird Park.  Son 2 aged 16m couldn’t get into the Baby Area fast enough.  Ball Pool.  Jet Bits.  Sitting over one of the holes so the remaining air streams blew even stronger.  The thin, four-inch wisps of his anyhow pre-haircut fringe blown up vertical.   He waved at Nanna. “Eh-yo.”  He concentrated as he threw balls overboard.  He got down.  We crawled up and around.  Son 1 aged 4y 3m was cross.  Growling.  Clawing his hands.  Pushing me away.  He wanted his Best Friend.  Only his Best Friend understands his game.  I tried to get us all playing together and might have succeeded at times.  He had a great time when Son 2 was sitting on the jets and throwing balls down at him.  He liked it when we followed him over the Big Children’s Stuff.  Son 2 slithered on his stomach and went down the baby slide on his own.  He learned to go down steps the same way today.  We went to see the otters and the owls.  Son 2 was in his reins - he loves walking, we’re hoping that having him in them early will mean he accepts them later.  When we know we’ll need them.  We looked at the Guinea Pigs.  £12 each.  Son 1 and I looked at each other.  If they’d sold hutches we’d've taken two.  We fed the goats, Son 2 managing to hold the food so the goats licked it from his hands, giggling his head every time their tongues shot out over his fingers.  The goats were standing in a quagmire, and everytime they leapt up their hooves spattered us.  Slathered in mud and goat spit, we washed our hands and made for the penguins.

We went early (for us) because it was the Family Tea Service at The Church and I felt we should go.  Son 2 didn’t wake up between car, house and street, and stayed asleep till we were at the bottom of the church steps.   Son 1 was exhausted, but will fortunately do anything if promised a comic, so trudged down like a trooper.  Numbers were few.  The theme was “light.”  The student priest put everyone under a tablecloth to show how Dark Things Were When God Forsook.  “And then Simeon saw a little baby just like this one (Son 2, possibly about 15 months too old for the role), and said ‘here is the light that will save the world.’”   We went back to our pews.  “Is Son 2 Jesus?” asked Son 1.  We sang “Shine Jesus Shine,” the words on a screen at the front.  My eyes are dim, the light was poor.  I so liked the idea of Kindly Brightness that I googled “Shine Jesus Shine, lyrics” when I got back.  Ah.

And then they provided tea.  Vegetable Bake, sausages, pizza, squash and cake.  Brilliant.  We zigzagged home across the main street - closed to traffic while they dig it up, Son 1 liked leading us from one side to the other.  We bought a Shaun The Sheep comic.  It was late and we were all whacked.  The boys went in the bath.  I insisted on washing their hair to remove goat saliva and hoof flecks.  I washed Son 2’s. Then I washed Son 1’s, singing him his lullaby to keep him calm.  Seeing him lying back on Mummy’s arm, being sung to, destroyed Son 2.  He cried, stood up, grabbed the arm holding Son 1 and sat his little bare bottom down on Son 1’s face, sinking him under the water. Then he stamped his foot on his ear and slid off.

1.  Food

2.  Heart

3.  Laughter

We went for lunch with Brother and Nanna.   Because we got up late, we didn’t get Son 2 aged 15m down for a sleep.  Pizza again, because it worked so well with Granny and Granddad.  Both boys were thoroughly up.  Worn out, hungry and flying.  The restaurant was packed with families, but only one baby was making shrill screeches, and only one child was lying on the floor pushing his brother’s highchair away from the table.   A colleague from The Office arrived with spouse and two small children and sat on a table nearby.  Ah.  Now I couldn’t make shrill screeches at the boys.  The food arrived and they calmed down.

Nanna is breathless, and has been investigated for about three years.  The Lung Expert said it might be angina, and the Heart Expert said it might be asthma.  Nanna has had tests, wires, ops, and everything has come back clear.  She stayed with The Family for Christmas and returned to a letter from her GP.   She has a Heart Thing.  Hereditary.  Her children should go for scans.  The good news is Nanna is a Grand Old Age.  The bad news is I googled the Heart Thing.  It can cause teenagers to drop dead.  I decided I’d ring the Doctor.   He’ll book me in, but I need an ECG and an X-ray.  Appointments today.  The NHS is a Good Thing.  I sat in the waiting room, making the most of the chance to catch up on November’s Country Life.  Storage Solutions.  Apparently I should have only Well Chosen And Beautiful Essentials on surfaces and visible shelves.  It didn’t tell me how to fit the WCBEs on the surfaces and visible shelves when every inch is already covered in clutter. 

I made the Big Bed while The Man bathed the boys.   I could hear Son 2 laughing his little head off… deep, loud chortles from his soul.  Son 1 was also in uncontrolled fits.  There were soft barks back from The Man, and louder and louder Little Boy Laughter.  It was such a lovely sound that I went down to look.  They were splashing him; he was soaked, Son 2 was ringleading and wouldn’t stop… Son 1 ha-ha-ha-d. I went back up.  The Man got cross.  The children laughed louder.  The Man had enough and started snapping at them.  They loved that, and splashed-and-laughed-and-splashed-and-laughed.  The Man got them out.  They came upstairs and lay under the quilt while The Man shook it.  Son 2 sobbed, bereft, when I took him away to bed. It took me 45 minutes and both eardrums to get him to sleep.

1.  Christmas Cuddles

2.  Sprint Finish

3.  Blinking In The Bath

This morning Son 2 aged 15m was clingy and wonderful.  Even in his high chair, he was leaning forward for a cuddle.  He is outstanding value at the moment.  Son 1 aged 4y 3m just lay in his Ben 10 pyjamas on our bed watching Children’s ITV and complaining every time I changed it to CBeebies because Son 2 was in the room.  I really shouldn’t bother, because Son 2 always toddles up and switches it off.  I wouldn’t, except the wretched child then switches it back on again.  Son 1 did, however, heave himself down three flights of stairs for a goodbye kiss and cuddle.  And then instantly disappeared upstairs again. 

Ran round myself today at The Office trying to catch up with yesterday’s day off, and get ahead for the holiday.  In early and out late.  However, being bright and positive, working Saturday helped hugely, and we got through great chunks of the To Do list.   The Man came into the Big Town for his Business, and got a few more things from the Christmas Shopping list.  I was supposed to get something for myself, but didn’t have time.  Pointy shoes in the sales, methinks.   I didn’t get back in time for Wonder Nanny, which means we haven’t given her her Christmas present.  Oh bother, said Winnie The Pooh.

The boys had been down to The Museum, and were both exhausted, and delirious with excitement at my arrival.  I put them in the bath and they were gorgeous playing together.  Son 2 was trying to pour water from a jug over Son 1.  But the water kept tipping out over his own face, and he was blinking and lipsmacking, Stan Laurel-like, confused.  Son 1 was beside himself laughing, Son 2 wanted to laugh too because Son 1 was borderline hysterical… but couldn’t because he was blinking the water out of his eyes and spitting it out of his mouth… which made Son 1 laugh even more.   Then Son 2 was soaping Son 1’s back, then deciding he wanted a cuddle.. then standing up to cuddle me over the side of the bath (very wet top indeed) and then they started fighting over sharks.  In bed Son 1 whispered “When is Santa coming?”  Granny and Granddad talked non-stop of their antics over dinner.

1.  Sleeping Through

2.  Sock Triumph

3.  Soft Touch

Son 2 aged 14m went down in his cot last night and stayed there until 0620 this morning.  Which last night gave me the tortured choice of check him and wake him up vs what if he’s dead?    I have never, ever, heard of or encountered anyone who sleeps as lightly as Son 2.  I swear the ting of a radiator, the click of a knee or the sound of a contact lens falling on the floor can wake him.   But we’re getting there.  A month ago I could only get him to sleep by lying on the bed next to him, and had to go to him each time he awoke in case he rolled off.  And he needed a grown up to sleep with him.  And now he’s doing ok on his own.  Unless your tummy rumbles…

I found the sock, hooray hooray.  A woman in a pinny, smoking a fag, watched me carefully as I scoured the Quay.  “I’m looking for a little boy sock,” I said. “We lost it in the dark last night.” “There’s a sock over there,” she said. “But it’s not a little boy’s.”  Yes it was.  Squodged, soaking, muddy and run over several times.   Yes I know it’s only a sock.  But inconvenience/annoyance of having to go back and look for it < inconvenience/annoyance of having five Nursery socks.  Forever.

The boys went to a play park with Wonder Nanny, and her Nanny Friend and her two charges… and then had them round this afternoon with the Thomas Wooden Railway boxes out.   A nightmare getting home from The Office.  A broken down bus on a single lane stretch and no escape from the stationary traffic.  Late late late.  Late for Wonder Nanny going home, late putting the boys to bed.  Son 2 is always first out of the bath, and then Son 1 aged 4 y 1m.  He wraps himself up in a big towel, and Son 2 helps me pat him dry.  Many, many giggles.