1.  Pushing Boundaries

2.  Pushing In

3.  Pushy Mother

A Very Grim Weather Forecast.  Wet. Really, Really, Wet. But clearing up Later On.  We decided our planned Bird Park trip could go ahead, but we would need to leave early. The Man helped us get out.  0930, in our macs just to go from the house to the car, double parked outside.  The house phone rang. The Wednesday Mum.  She forgot. We’re picking up another family and splitting them between us.  OK. We drove round and round looking for the right road.  And found a Post Lady to help. We found the right house.  Wednesday Mum gave us Best Friend to take, so she could take the Mother and two daughters in the other family.  Off we went.   Pouring with rain. The road we needed closed with miles and miles of diversions. And Son 1 aged 4y 10m and Best Friend giggling away as they yelled “Poo Poo Pants!”  and “Wee Wee Head!”  at each other. Son 2 aged 22m sat in his seat yelling “Bart!” (= fart) and laughing his head off.  I will remember not to be disappointed if this is as good as conversation in our 75% male household gets from now on. 

The Bird Park. Soft Play, on a hideously wet day in the summer holidays.  Every table full.  Wet macs, jackets and kagoules over the back of every chair.  Son 1 and Best Friend ran off, I plopped Son 2 in the baby area and found a table. I put our macs and bags on it, went to play with Son 1 and still had to fend off an older woman who snuck on the one seat I hadn’t baggsed.   The others took a while coming.  Son 1 and I had a good play. He stood on top of the jets, all his fine, long, blond hair blown vertically upwards. With his tee shirt full of air and a great delighted smile on his face.  We played with the balls, we climbed, we went down slides.  Son 1 was a pain. He spent the morning playing  a Fierce Game.  Growling and roaring at everyone. Eventually he fell out with Best Friend.  He roared, Best Friend lashed out. He cried.  So all three of us went to play on the Big Uns equipment together.  

And then we all went outside.  In our macs, the rain drumming down, no-one else out. Son 1 dropped his Knobbly Bobbly ice lolly.  I gave him 85p and told him to go back in and buy another one. He managed.  Amazing what motivation can do.  We saw owls, and otters. Son 2 just said “Fish.”  “Fish.” “Fish,” as we wound our way down to the farm area. He studied the fish - great fat koi - for as long as we’d let him.  We looked at the rabbits and the guinea pigs. Outside we fed rabbits and sheep with goat food. Son 1 was letting big sheep lap the pellets off his hands; Son 2 was still just a bit scared. There was a Daddy, Mummy and Baby donkey. Son 1 and I wondered if The Man would let us have a baby donkey.  Son 2 hung on the wire sides of the hen houses.  At penguin feeding time the other Wednesday MOther took her two boys back in. Not us. Son 1 sat on the side of the penguin pool trying to get picked to feed them. Son 2 cried with tiredness and pressed his face in to mine.  When it came to choosing the children, Son 1 didn’t get a look in. “Just get down,” I said, giving him a nudge over. Inside the penguin pen, he turned to me. “Did they say it’s all right?”  ”Yes it’s all right,” I said. “Did they say so?”  How well that child knows me. The keeper passed him and told him to come along, olonking a bucket of fish down beside him.  Son 1 and his new friends hurled them into the pool.   Next to Son 2 and me, two children behind the wall stood with their hands up.  We went round the pool to watch Son 1.  “Pin Gin” said Son 2.

1.  Order, Order

2.  Brains And Brawn

3.  Root A Toot

A good night.   A day off. A slow start. Son 1 aged 4y and 6m wanted me to read Mr Men books to him.  He and The Man seemed to think he was banned from telly this morning.  He wasn’t.  But I wasn’t going to let on.  We were still in our pyjamas when Wonder Nanny arrived.  She is very impressed with The Man’s new coat hooks and shelves in the hall, and with the new shelves in Son 2 aged 18m’s room.   There are no longer piles of about 100 books on the floor in Son 1’s room.  I never minded, I thought it added a certain don-ish quality to the place.  But apparently it was Not Normal.   Always, the people who can’t see mess are married to people who see mess when it isn’t there.   For the same reasons bees can’t fly.  

We went to the Bird Park.  We all love it, and I wanted to go places before the schools break up.  “Shall we have a little play and then have some lunch and then see the animals?” said Son 1.  That’s what we always do.  The dear mite and his love of routine again.  (As I often say about The Man.)  Son 2 can go down the baby slide sitting up now.  Son 2 picks up his own mat for the Big Slide.  Son 2 climbs up slopes, climbs up stairs, totters through, tried to get over… anything Son 1 does.  Son 1 is not a fan of Big Slides, but loves doing circuits including a smaller slide, and loved us all doing it together.  I am so glad Son 2 is such a little bruiser.  I always used to think Son 1’s physical caution was related to me being too over-protective.  Along came Son 2, and with one bound Mummy is free…

After lunch Son 2 was fainting with tiredness, so we put him in the Big Pram and wheeled him round to the birds.  He lasted as far as the otters before demanding to get out again. And then he walked down to the farm, hoo-hooing at owls, squawking at parrots and saying “Bye bye” to the cockatoos.  We fed goats and sheep, and sang Baa Baa Black Sheep to the black sheep with the black tongue. Son 2 baa-ed at them.  I put him back in the pram and he finally nodded off.   Son 1 prowled and ran round to the penguins.  Sat demurely on the wall. Got picked to feed them.  On the way back we stopped off at a big M and S looking for shoes.  We finally found a pair of flashing trainers that fit. Not quite what I wanted, but Son 1 is happy.

1.  The Planning

2.  The Party

3.  The Power

Son 1 aged 4y 5m slid into bed in the night.  Son 2 aged 18m woke early and cried.  The Man went down to him to try to get him back to sleep.  ”Mama!” cried Son 2.  I was undone and got up. He wasn’t well.  Temperature, snotty, dry cough.  He felt wretched. He flopped. He clung. He cried.  I tookhim downstairs and it took Ibuprofen, Calpol, milk, raisins and a yoghurt to cheer him up.  Son 1 woke up “Is it my special day?”  In January, I made the mistake of telling Son 1 that when he and Son 2 were older, instead of having one joint party to celebrate their birthdays in September, we would probably start having a party in Spring as well.  From that moment onwards he scouted venues like a bride-to-be. “Shall I choose here for my Spring Party?” We chose the Bird Park.  

The first Good Thing was that The Bird Park was expecting us.  They were supposed to ring this week to confirm… they didn’t, and I didn’t have time to check.  The weather was fab, the boys slept in the car on the way, we pulled into the car park and remembered we’d left the Ben 10 cake at home, half an hour’s drive away.  I had steered Son 1 away from the idea of balloons, party bags, a bouncy castle and presents, but I had promised a cake with candles.  The Man tore off in search of another.  The guests arrived, the children played.  Son 2 stood on the airjets in the Ball Pool, his teeshirt and long fringe blowing upwards. The hair on the top of his head was glued down with Bio Oil and didn’t move.  (I have been reading Mumsnet Talk cures for cradle cap.)  We had 12 Boys and 1 Girl.  The Girl (aged 3) wanted to look after Son 2.  We went on the Big Slide.  Son 2 loved it, and pointed back up. “Again?” I asked.  Mad nodding.  The Girl was a revelation.  She picked up a mat and handed it to me, smoothed our our mat at the top of the slide before Son 2 and I got on it, and checked we were all right at the end.  She picked up litter.  She waited for us.  An amazing insight into another world.

Lunch was wolfed.  Ice cream and chocolate cake also.  Son 1 went back to play.  I had a coffee and Son 2 was looked after outside on the balcony by The Man.  We went out to the animals.  The selection is red pandas, otters, owls, parrots, cockatoos, macaus, hornbills, rabbits, guinea pigs, sheep, goats… Son 2 stood and stared at the little dump truck re-building the outdoor playground. “Dum Dum Dum” he said.  “Di Di Di” he said at the diggers.  Just as I wondered what we’ll have in common when he’s older, he hoo hoo-ed at the owls. Down by the goats, he wouldn’t let Little Girl hold his reins.  Son 2 doesn’t realise the reins are to stop him running off.  He thinks they’re to keep Mummy close while he explores. We charged to the penguins for feeding time.  Packed, three deep.  I lifted Son 1 over the top and he was picked to feed them.  He was wearing a bright red Power Ranger outfit.  Best Friend didn’t even get near and was sobbing.  I promised him we would come back on a quiet day and I would make sure he was picked.  Goody, hooray.  I love the Bird Park.

1.  Daring To Kiss

2.  Spring Animals

3.  Dinner With A Friend

I spent the night with Son 1 aged 4y 4m.  He’s still hot and bothered. I got up just before 5am, and decided I Do Not Drink Coffee till 6am.  I cracked at 0520.  Did some admin/paperwork.  The Man got up.  Off on a Business Trip.  Very pleased to see me Downstairs.  He’d thought, as I wasn’t with Son 1, that I must be behind closed doors with Son 2 aged 17m.  The Man dares not go into The Lightest Sleeper In The World’s bedroom, and thought it would be bad luck to leave without kissing goodbye.  After all these years I think that counts as a Good Thing.

A text from a Wednesday Mum.  Little Three Year Old Friend fell off the new bunk bed ladder last night and has broken his arm. Overnight in The Hospital, in theatre this morning.  I rang.  Tib and fib.  Carried off in an ambulance.  Five weeks in plaster ahead.   We went off to the Bird Park.  It was indescribably busy.  Every table packed, buggies everywhere, people standing round the edges.  The Other Wednesday Mum went for coffees while Son 2 and I played in the toddler area.  A table became free right next to it.  I stepped over and plonk.  Camp struck, Good Thing bagged.  Son 1 played, but as his calpol wore off his mood crashed.  We went outside. Down to the Farm.  The goats weren’t hungry - half term, they ‘d eaten hundreds of bags of pellets.  they just wanted grass.  There was a great fat black pig with ten gorgeous tiny piglets.  As a vegetarian, I can enjoy the cuteness of piglets guilt-free.  The quails had chicks.  The Big Fat Hens had laid eggs in the hen houses.  We went up to the Penguin Pond.  Son 1 climbed up on the wall and sat, in a “W,” which meant he takes up three times as much room as a child sitting cross-legged.   About sixty children were crammed round the wall.  Buckets of fish arrived with two keepers.  “We need about 12 volunteers!”  Every had shot up.  Son 1 has learned from previous disappointments, and is now much better at getting picked.  He was the best penguin-feeder by far.  Coat off, shoes off, dive into bucket.  Fling Those Fish.

Only. We’d forgotten Nanna was coming at 4pm.  I tried ringing, and off we sped.   Her car was parked near the house, no sign of her.  My mobile went.  She was waiting with our neighbours.  We drove down to The Square and went into Pizza Express for tea.  The boys were worn out and loudly fractious.  And then in came Son 1’s nearly six-year-old friend with his Mother, just back from the panto.  They sat on the other side of the restaurant, and Son 1 spent the entire meal with them.  I sent over a glass of Pinot Grigio as a babysitting fee.   So. Rude to Nanna, but he wate nearly every scrap of pizza, and Nanna and I got our food. Son 2 went for a walk round the restaurant with Nanna, fell over, hit his nose and split his lip open again.

After a long, late, exhausting bedtime, I rang 3 year old’s father at home, and then his mum in the hospital. They were both within 1m of him when it happened.  Second rung from the bottom of the ladder, foot slipped in, child fell and they heard the “snap.”  He has two greensticks and one proper fracture.  He was X-Ray Of The Day.  He’s on calpol.  He seems fine.   In the next bed is a little girl still recovering from the car crash in which her brother died.  It’s really only a scratch on Son 2’s lip.

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.   Larks

2.   Wild Mutt

3.   Penguins

Another disturbed night - Son 1 aged 4y 3m this time, arriving in the Big Bed, kicking The Man out and keeping me awake for 2 hours.  It is wonderful being so loved by a small boy who wants only to snug up, cuddle and stroke my eyebrows, but he heat-seeks and then pummels, wriggles, tugs and grabs to position his Parent for maximum comfort.  He does it all while he’s stone asleep.  And I am not.  Another late start.  I wanted a Family Day Out.  Just the four of us, after 10 days of friends and family.  The Man was keen on a beach, away from freezing blasts of wind.  Or leaving just enough for a kite.   Son 1 didn’t want to go to the beach.  “Why not?” “Because I have to wash my hair when I go to the beach.”  “Only when you have sand fights.  Where do you want to go?” “To the Bird Park.”  A comedy half hour followed, in which The Man tried to persuade him to go to The Beach.

We went to the Bird Park.  Son 2 aged 15m played in the Ball Pool and toddler zone.  He loved sitting on the air jets, his breath blown away, his wispy fringe vertical, throwing balls overboard.  He flopped in the balls, he switched the jets on.  He followed Son 1 around the Under-5 climbing area, laughing as we sent him down the slide, happy and determined to copy his brother.  Son 1 was Wild Mutt, growling.  And Upgrade.  And Four Arms (I misread that one on the Top Trumps cards.   I thought it said Four Bums.)  The Man took him off round the more advanced gear.  We swapped boys and I chased Son 1 and he chased me.  I climbed and slid and scrambled and clambered.  “Animal Box time,” said Son 1, and at last I got a coffee.

After lunch we played again.  When it was time to move on I asked Son 2 “Would you like to go and see the birds and animals?” and he resolutely toddled off towards his Pram.  “There are owls and parrots and penguins and otters,” I said. “What would you like to see?” ”Raaaargggh,” he said.  Ah.  No lions here, Oh Dear.   We have had three misses in a row at the Penguin Pond.  Small children are allowed to feed the penguins.  Son 1 had a whole bucket of fish to himself one gloomy termtime afternoon when he was 2.  Recently however we’ve lucked out. First, we went in school holidays and there were too many children and Son 1 didn’t get picked.  Then they were cleaning the pool and not doing public feeding.  Then I muddled up the times, and we got there too late.  This time Son 1 got picked and excitedly took off his coat and got on with his task.  Except when I made him stop so I could take pictures.  Which was quite often.

1. The Look After Shop

2. Fur And Feathers

3. Fish and Chicks

The Man left at 0330 on a Business Trip.  A crisp, clear, cloudless day.  Son 1 aged 4y 2m wanted to go to the Bird Park.  En route we passed some Boarding Kennels.  “It’s the Look After Shop,” said Son 1.  “For dogs and cats and birds and mice and guinea pigs.” We picked up Nanna.  Son 1 and Son 2 aged 14m played in the toddler area.  Son wanted to play in the Ball Pool; Son 1 on the climbing frame, his Pirate Ship.  I have resolved to play together as a threesome wherever possible, so Son 2 and I joned Son 1 on the Ship.  Son 2 chatted and waved and Arowed-ed.  Son 1 ran away. Son 2 loved it.  A wall up to his nose?  Up went the leg to try to climb.  He sobbed in fury when I picked him up during his attempt to walk across the rope bridge.  “So what if my feet are so small they fall through each hole in the net… leave me here PLEASE and I’ll work it out.”

By early afternoon, both were exhausted, but didn’t want to leave.  Son 1 lay down in the ball pool.  Son 2 refused to go in his Pram.  Plank Boy.  “If you go in your pram, I’ll take you to see some owls and penguins and parrots,” I said softly.  Son 2 let me buckle him up.  “What do you say to an owl?” I said. “Ooooo,” he said.  At the Owls, I took him out so he could see them better.  He stared and pointed.  And then refused to go back in the Pram.  “I’ll take you to see some rabbits if you go in your Pram,” I said.  Again, he folded at the middle and sat quietly while I strapped him in.

Son 1 fed the goats with gusto.  Well, goat food really, but it was the first time he’s been casually confident in feeding them.  Like always, I fed the big goats to distract them so he could feed the babies.  This time though he enjoyed himself so much he didn’t care what size he ended up with.  When our bags were finished I picked up discarded goat food out of the long grass so he could keep feeding them.  He danced around me waiting for each pellet.  Son 2 fed the babies, but kept trying to eat the goat food himself.  We fed a Black Sheep.  Did you know Black Sheep have Black Tongues?  We missed the penguin feeding time, but we watched the otters.  They had chicks and fish and hearts and quail.

1.  A Quiet Coffee

2.  Bird Park Revisited

3.  Bedtime

Downstairs with Son 2 aged 13m at 0545 to get him some milk.  A starfish hand stretched out to the fruit bowl.  Two old apples and an ancient lemon.  I made a big pot of coffee, bacterio yoghurtie thing for Son 2 aged 4 (no pineapple juice,) and snacks for them both.  Upstairs we all read a big photo baby book - Son 2 likes sitting looking at pictures while we tell him what they are.  And occasionally joins in by poking a soft baby finger at a picture with an “uh,” making Son 1 and me cry out “peas!” excitedly.  Son 1 went to the loo, Son 2 followed him.  I could hear Son 1 laughing madly, but no sound from Son 2.  I settled back on a big pillow, savouring my coffee.  They were in the bathroom, so if they were messy it would be easy to clear up.  There was plenty of entertainment for Son 2.  They were safe.  And Son 2 wasn’t squealing like a stuck pig, so Son 1 was clearly keeping his hands to himself.  He came in again, giggling. “Come and see.  We’re up to mischief.” An empty loo roll holder.  Son 2 had unravelled it, Son 1 had stuffed many, many yards of loo paper into a yellow wicker basket.

Today’s trip was the Bird Park.  I took bags of change from Son 1’s money boxes and paid for everything in coppers and 5ps.   Both boys loved it.  Son 2 couldn’t get enough of the ball pool. “If you’re happy and you know it, click your balls,” we sang, smiling happily and clicking, one in each hand.  He climbed, he went down the slide, he laughed.  Son 1 still likes the toddler area best.  There are very high, very steep slides at the Bird Park for older children and younger (than me) parents.  Son 1 and I stood at the top of one, peering down.  A boy and his father jumped off.  “You do it, Mummy” said Son 1.  “You do it,” I replied. ” I can’t. I’m too scared.”  I was scared.  But I did it anyway.  Because you should push through your fears to see what’s on the other side.   I climbed up over and down I dropped, crashing into the ball pool at the bottom, buried two layers.  I pushed my way out.  “Do It Again!” came the instruction from the top.   I Did It Again.

I couldn’t get Son 2 to sleep tonight.  I went up with the boys at 1820. I got down at 2015.  And he woke again within 20 minutes. We have now done four days without a breastfeed.

1. Swimming lesson

2. Bird Park

3. Pumpkin seeds

4. The neighbours

I took the children up to Son 1 aged 3 and a half’s swimming lesson while The Man Got On.  I liked watching Son 1, he takes notice half the time, and gets it right about half the times he’s listening.  He was swimming along on his front, a noodle under each arm, kicking his legs merrily, and the teacher turned him over and round, so that he was swimming on his back in the opposite direction.  And then a noodle wobbled and plunged under, and he found something else to look at and he started going round in a circle on his front.   I don’t think he’s learning to swim but he seems to like it.

Then we went to the Bird Park with some friends.  Son 1 loves the Bird Park - it’s got soft play, sand pits, playgrounds, a climb-aboard tractor, birds (unsurprisingly) and animals.  I’ve still got problems with birds in cages, but since having Son 1 I have decided the Bird Park is not so much an affront to the freedom of little hearts that beat and sing, and more a rest-home for clapped-out parrots whose very old owners have died.  Son 2 aged 7m is usually fascinated by everything there, but today was still out-of-sorts.  I think he needed to sleep, and as usual our squeeze-in-all-we-can lifestyle didn’t help him.  Some lovely moments though.  Son 1 and his friend, sitting on the bonnet of the climbaboard tractor, with three much bigger children in the cockpit.  “Go away,” said the Big Ones.  “You’re ruining our game.”  “No,” said the three year olds.  “You’ve got to go.  I’m eight, he’s five and she’s six.”  “Well we’re three.” No sign of movement.  They stared them out and they saw them off.  They collected the carrots dropped at rabbits’ feeding time from the floor and put them on the tractor as their picnic.  Son 1’s friend, barefoot and hardy, ran over the gravel to the Noah’s Ark ride-on machine.  Son 1, barefoot, ooh-ooh ah-ah-ed all the way over.  They made up trolls under bridges, dug tunnels, raced crocodiles and played pirates.

When we got back,  Son 1’s pumpkin seeds, planted 10 days ago, had sprouted.  In fact they seem to grow bigger while we’re watching them.  At this rate we’ll have another squash before we’ve finished off eating the one the seeds came from.  I used to know about gardening, but can’t remember how to sow or grow them.  It’s spring, it must be ok.

We went round to the neighbours’ after tea.  They let out their house for the summer, and live on a boat in the Med.  They leave on Saturday, so we were popping round for a drink and nibbles to say goodbye.  Son 1 did their Scooby Doo puzzle - they have grandchildren and a supply of toys.  Son 2 babbled and twinkled and grabbed and nosed. They are great, and their back garden is immaculate.  Unlike their trashy neighbours’.