1.  What Do You See, You People Gazing At Me?

2.  Scrumptious As The Breeze Across The Bay

3.  Marshmallow Mouthfuls

Son 1 aged 5 and I got to School on time, after another disturbed night and, subsequently, a bit of a sleep in.  Back home, Son 2 watched Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. It is slowly dawning on me that he thinks I’m in it.  He has, throughout his obsession, sat watching it, saying: “Mummy,” and putting his face against the screen.  Now.  If I were a lot thinner, if my hair were longer and natural instead of short bottle blonde, if I wore hats and sashes… there is a certain pointyness to my nose, the way I know all the songs, and the lashings and lashings of mascara…. I am Truly Scrumptious.   

A text from a Wednesday Mum. The Beach By The Garden. 10am. Son 2 aged 2y 1m and I can’t get anywhere by 10am on a Wednesday morning.  Son 1 aged 2y 1m had a 0930 swimming class at the Town Pool, and I was out striding the mile and a half over there at 0845 every week.  Just can’t do it any more. Son 2 and I got there at 1045.  Two Wednesday Mums, two three year olds, and our old friend from Breastfeeding Group and her second, now a year old.    One Wednesday Mum has just run a half marathon. Pang.  I dug a sandcastle, I went down to the water to bring back bucket after bucket of water.  Son 2 made himself a little bed out of his towel, my towel and a pram blanket.  I read a comic to a three-year-old. Son 2 got up to listen.  One Wednesday Mum left. ”I wan’ a wee wee,” said Son 2. “Do it in your nappy, darling,” said She Who Doesn’t Want To Toilet Train Till We’re Back From Holiday. ”No. I wan’ go on toy toy.” “Come on then.” Off we went to the loo. I changed into my swimsuit while I was there. Son 2 played, and I went for a swim in the sea.  In October. Hooray. I thought the water was flat until two successive waves smacked me in the face, filling my mouth with saltwater. It was cold, but it was great.  I came out. ”I can’t go in,” said the running Wednesday Mum. “I just can’t do cold.”  I wasn’t that cold. This is the difference between someone with no spare flesh, and someone who has built-in layers of goose fat to keep her warm.

Son 2 fell asleep in the Big Pram, so The Man and a work colleague came out for lunchtime burgers.  Son 2 of course woke up, furious.  He was tired and hungry and loud. No. No. No. No. No. No. He wouldn’t let me take him out of the Pram, he wouldn’t be cuddled, he wouldn’t eat…it took about 15 minutes to get him back to us. Then he sat demurely eating his chips.  When we had coffee, he wanted hot chocolate. I took him to the counter. “Tell the lady what you want.” “Hot Choc Choc. Peez.” He has ordered his first drink.

1.  Assumptions

2.  Avalanche

3.  Aquabatics

I didn’t see the children yesterday. I went out before they were up, and didn’t get back till way after they were in bed asleep.

“Apparently,” said Son 1 aged 4y 11m over breakfast this morning, “everyone in Reception can read except me.” Cannon ball blast through stomach moment. Many moons ago, linguistics was part of my degree, and I have Strong Views about teaching young children to read.  Forget it. Unless they are hanging on your leg and bashing a book against your knee eveytime you see them, concentrate on helping them speak well instead. Son 1 can read and write his name. Weren’t me, guv. Wonder Nanny?  Nursery?  No idea.  And so. If he had picked up the book called “How To Skewer Mummy Right In The Know-It-all-Assumptions” he couldn’t have chosen a better line. I questioned him.  He named two children. One a boy who has an older sister. Second children. Always learn faster. The other a child from Nursery whose parents sent him elsewhere.  A little prodigy who could swim, climb, run, write, draw and talk better than anyone else, and who is probably on his sixth or seventh symphony by now. Way out of our league.  So I worried for a few minutes, but then Looked On The Bright Side, and decided that any four year old who can use “apparently” correctly is going to be All Right.

After The Man has taken Son 1 to school, I left Son 2 aged 2 upstairs watching Chitty Chitty Bang Bang while I put washing on, hoovered, tidied up, ate breakfast, had a little read of the paper and rang a few friends.   I discussed reading, parties, starting school, birthday teas, and had a very nice time.”I do have to go,” I told the last one. “I’ve left Son 2 on his own upstairs for ages and I really must check on him.” I ended that call and then thought I’d quickly ring  a Wednesday mum while I was going upstairs. I dialled the number and there was a massive thump, a wail, then another thump, then a silence and then a loud, terrified howl.  Son 2 was lying about three foot from the bottom of the stairs, face down and crying so hard he could barely breathe. Cuddles. Ibuprofen. Chocolate buttons.  He was ok. I rang a friend to tell her what happened.

We walked over to the Beach By The Garden to meet the Wednesday Friends. All the big boys are now in school.  Son 2 slept on the way over.  We dug, we went to the sea to get him water, we had ice lollies. Another lovely day - less wind than on Friday, but still with a mighty sea swell.  I dug two big sandcastles.  Son 2 trashed them, depending on which one I was building.  A Wednesday Mum dug a big levee and a massive hole for when the tide came in, so the boys could sit in it when the water rushed round.  I swam in the sea. I’m getting faster at going in. Or maybe the water’s warmer. There were a few set, grey hairdos and one bald head bobbing up and down.  Mmmm.  Clearly I am Yoof discovering something that old ladies do. It was fantastic. I prefer it flatter, but I swam out past the big breakers and let the current take me along parallel to the shore, then swam back against it and headed diagonally back in. It was wonderful. Reacting to the power of the water, enjoying breathtaking scenery, touching nature.  The Man had stopped off during his lunch break.  I came out of the water smiling. “Look at the state of your swimming costume,” he said. “It’s disgusting.  Chuck it. I’m throwing it out tonight.”  Just been washed a few too many times, that’s all. Oh dear, if he’s noticed I shall have to find a new one.   Who knows where I can get a forgiving, flattering one-piece that doesn’t automatically admit me to the grey-hair-bobbing-in-the-sea club?  And that also has plenty of space in the bodice.

1.  The Golden Bell

2.  Birthday Boy

3.  Teddy Bears

4.  Night Skies

Son 2 is 2.  Amazing.  Funny, determined, physical, loving, bright, gorgeous. And incredible that if I hadn’t taken tablets we wouldn’t have him.  Conceived the month after we lost Son 1.5.  I took the advice of a doctor who said: “Well, you could take some time to recover from the miscarriage but you’re 42 and every month counts.” I can still remember a dark December evening, Clomid packet in hand, thinking about C S Lewis: “Make your choice, adventurous stranger;  Strike the bell and bide the danger, Or wonder, till it drives you mad, What would have followed if you had.”   We struck the bell… and What Followed got  a handprint kit, Playmobil fish, fish books, a crocodile, a crab, and of course half a fish tank.

Son 1 aged 4y 11m was beside himself for the present opening. Son 2 loved having Happy Birthday sung to him.  I took Son 1 off to school, in the end having to bribe him with parma violets from next Saturday’s party bags. Back home, Wonder Nanny and I pushed Son 2 in the Big Pram over to the Beach By The Garden. Son 2 fell asleep on the way over, and woke within two minutes of us arriving. I’d pictured a day like Wednesday, but the wind was ferocious, so I hired a windbreak. The sea was mighty, great big surfy breakers crashing up against the high tideline.  Son 2 dug and went to the sea for water - taking me with him each time.  We had lunch from the Beach Shack, and then  I went Swimming In The Sea. I have decided this is now a tradition. Every year I will go Swimming In The Sea on Son 2’s birthday.  I couldn’t swim - the surf was too strong. I just swam into each waves, swam/sprang up over the top of each six footer, and had to turn my back into them so they’d break around me and not wipe me out.  I still got wiped out, and rolled around in the shallows.  When I took my costume off it was full of small stones.  We had ice creams and walked back.

Wonder Nanny and Son 2 went upstairs to watch telly, and then played outside.  I got the food ready for the Birthday Tea.  Not a party of course, that will happen next Saturday.  Cold chicken, cooked yesterday, ham and peanut butter sandwiches, hummous with cucumber, pepper, carrot and breadsticks, hula hoops and cocktail sausages. Nanna arrived. Then Son 1, his face worried through the glass of the front door “Have I missed the party?” Before he’d got to Son 2, one set of Wednesday brothers had arrived, then the other. Then the sole girl, with her big sister who was on her way to Beavers. They all brought Teddies for a Teddy Bear picnic.  The boys sat with their teddies for five seconds, stuffed their faces and then ran off to get all the toys out.  I sent out a plate of jelly tot and smartie mini fairy cakes.  Son 1 and Best friend took handfuls and sat behind The Man’s chair in the lounge stuffing their faces. Son 2’s Godmother arrived with Godbrother and Godsister. “Thank heaven you’re here Godbrother,” I said. “We need a light for the candles.” “I’ve stopped smoking now,” he said. Godbrother will be 14 at the end of this month.  We had a Monkey birthday cake and a singing candle with five others.  It was impossible keeping five bigger boys from blowing them out, but we kept re-lighting them and Son 2 seemed happy with his efforts. The cake vanished. The Man let off Poundland table top fireworks in the flower bed. 

After we all went to the Yacht Club with Nanna and the Parents Of The Girls.  Son 1 and Son 2 played with their golf set. Son 1 cried when he hit his ball into the river.  A scarily competent ten year old got in a dinghy and went and brought it back. We sat on benches outside, watching the boats, drinking and talking and talking and drinking. Jupiter shone large in the darkening sky.  “Look at that lovely star Mummy,” said Son 1. “It’s not a star, it’s a planet.” “How do you know?”  “The stars are small and far up in the sky.  The planets are big and nearer the horizon.”  We came back at nine. It was a Good Day.

1.  Start A Revolution

2.  Summertime’s In Bloom

3.  A Better Place To Play

The Man has my cold. He is Very Ill Indeed.  All he could manage this morning was getting himself to work, so  I did breakfastanddressingandtidyingupandcleaningupandwashingandteethandmakingpackedlunches.  Poor old him.  Imagine getting it this bad after only one day.  I really am very lucky that I’ve been able to keep going through the whole week I’ve had it. The dentist rang. I have an appointment tomorrow morning, and so does Son 1 aged 4y 11m.  I made this appointment in February.  When I was in pre-school world. Tomorrow is Son 1’s first day at school.  I rang them. “Bring him in when you’ve finished,” they said.

We’d arranged to meet The Wednesday Friends on the Beach By The Garden. MAcs and wellies, because the forecast was rain. But we just wanted to get outside. By the time I’d finished all my jobs though, we were very late. And it was raining very hard. The others had de-camped into the Beach Cafe.  We arrived, Son 1 in full Captain Hook, Son 2 aged 23m barely awake. Six five-and-under boys in a cafe. Didn’t work. We abandoned it.  Best Friend and Little Brother came here, the other Wednesday Family went home.  The boys played well.  It rained and rained. When it came for home time, Son 1 tried to persuade Best Friend to stay. ”This is the funnest house. We haven’t got all the toys out yet.”  He was the Child Catcher. He cried when they left.

And this evening I became The Terrifying Mother Who Invites The Whole Class To Parties. In my defence… these are September birthdays. Last year I invited one boy from Nursery who’d already invited Son 1 to something, and then spent the rest of the year feeling guilty every time another invitation appeared.  This year they can all come if they like, hospitality done and dusted, hooray hooray.  And Son 1 starts school tomorrow.  Herein endeth the pre-school years.  And our Wednesdays together.  Pang, Pang, Go Away.  I have done my best.