1.   Without Consulting Me

2.  A Golden Gown

3.  Wandering Vaguely

I took Son 1 aged 4y 11m to school and found The Headmaster. At the end of last term The Man wrote to ask if we can take Son 1 out the week after half-term. The Elegant Aunt has offered us her Timeshare week.  Our holiday in May with The Family was a delight for the boys, but this, because of The Man’s Business, would be our first chance this year to go away as a foursome.  “I understand,” said The Headmaster. ”It’s not a problem.”

My last day as The Mother Of A One Year Old. I took the day off work so I could spend quality time with Son 2 aged 23m. So, after I’d dropped off Son 1 I had my hair done. I like the colour, I like the cut - she seems to have made it longer than it was when I went in, even with taking half an inch off.  Although The Stand In Hairdresser says as it’s bleached, it’s got to be short.  No handsome prince is ever going to scale a tower by clambering up my flaxen tresses. I got home at lunchtime to an exhausted Son 2 - Wonder Nanny had kept him up so he’d be awake for my return.  He then refused to sleep in the afternoon.  We played and watched telly, and then I roasted chicken legs for tomorrow’s birthday tea. Son 1 wants Pirate Chicken.  The meat pirates eat in the pictures.

I rang Nanna. “Please can you babysit so The Man and I can take my new haircut out?” She could.  We were late leaving though, after Son 1 first had to tiptoe into the bedroom to put each of Son 2’s presents under the cot. And then, as we read stories about Birthdays, we did Two Presents For Eeyore - the original of course - and his curiosity was drawn to Christopher Robin and The Narrator. “It’s his DAddy.  The stories were written a long time ago by a Daddy for his little boy who was five. And the little boy’s toys were Winnie The Pooh and Piglet and Eeyore and Owl and Rabbit and KAnga and Roo.” “Are they dead?”  “The Daddy is, I can’t remember if Christopher Robin is. He’s a very old man if he’s still alive.” “What happened to the Mummy?”  A very good question I thought. Never heard of her. In fact, now you mention it, I’m also worried about James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree’s Mother.  She may have Gone Down To The End Of The  Town and was Never Seen Again. But did anyone check the whereabouts of James James’s Father when she went missing?

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.

1.  Pets

2.  Peace

3.  Perfection

Son 2 aged 21 month’s head bump looked pretty grim this morning, and I am glad I bothered to heave him into Casualty last night. He seemed fine, but tired.  We went to a Garden Centre.  Younger Sister bought the boys sunflower seed kits, and we have to pot the seedlings on, so we were looking for pots. The Garden Centre  has tropical fish, garden fish, gerbils, hamsters, chinchillas, parrots, canaries and rabbits.  Son 1 aged 4y 8m has decided that he wants a fish for his birthday. He is very excited by the idea. I have said it will help him get ready for having a dog, which he is not allowed till he is 6.  At the Garden Centre, we met the mother of a friend from Nursery.  Who has 5 dogs.  I quickly established that Nursery Friend has an older sister.     

The boys fell asleep in the car on the way back, the The Man and I drove to a beach and had coffees from a cafe. It really is such a rare treat to get them both asleep together in the daytime.  I put some litter in a bin; they woke up. We bought them chips for lunch. Unfortunately it wasn’t lunchtime, it was nearly 3pm when Nanna was coming round. We got back to see her, A Grand Old Age, sitting on the windowsill in the rain waiting for us.  Er… see http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/02/18/the-cuteness-of-piglets/  We made special fried rice for tea. I had a new Le Crueset serving dish for my birthday.  I put the rice in the dish on the centre of the table, place mats laid all round, serving spoons and plates in position.  Son 2 bruised down. “Tea,” he demanded. “Tea. Tea. Tea.” He climbed up on the chair, stood on it, reached over, served himself a great plateful and ate it with his fists.  He’d eaten half a plate before Son 1 came down.  I sat in the highchair and had mine.

Nanna babysat while The Man and I went down the road to the Hotel With The River View. Thank heaven for smokers, and improved outside facilities.  The Hotel WTRV now has a terrace. Plastic plants, and seagulls eating fag butts, but it was sunny, the water was flat and the longest day approaches.  We had a great time.

1.  Garden Party

2.  Sliding Down

3.  Wrapping Up

A Little Friend is 3 today.  His party was at a Nearby Garden.  I’ll take all the Christmas presents, I thought, taking a pile of five downstairs to wrap.  In front of Son 1 aged 4y 3m, while Son 2 aged 15m was napping.  Son 1 went nuts.  He wanted the little plastic paint-me figures, he couldn’t keep his fingers out of the Meccano boxes, he lifted the flaps in the  books.  Of course I gave up, and we just took Birthday Boy’s.  Son 1 wore his Santa outfit.  We went straight to see Santa in his grotto; 8 little boys aged 4 and under, 1 two-year old girl.  Santa was great, the grotto was great.  Is it me or are they getting better?  Santa asked all the little boys what they wanted for Christmas.  Son 1 couldn’t speak when it was his turn.  “A Knight’s Tower,” I said, “with some Monsters.”  “And what about this little one? ” said Santa.  “An iPod,” I said. “Or a mobile phone.” Santa stared and waited for a sensible answer, while small boys giggled and said “No-o,” Teletubbies fashion.  I made up a Farm and some bath toys.  Outside, Son 2 stared, rapt, at the mighty camera wielded by Birthday Boy’s parents, reaching out his little starfish hands for the buttons.  Sorry  darling, Santa didn’t believe me when I told him what you’d like for Christmas.      

The children had their faces painted.  They were all blue Power Rangers, which made Son 1 a Santa with a blue face. Lunch was served in the playground.  It was a dry, clear day so the children ate chocolate sandwiches and chased and slid and climbed and squabbled.  Son 2 reached for me every time Wonder Nanny picked him up.  That matters more than it should.  She lay him down on his back and dropped him down the slide… I caught him at the bottom.  He laughed and laughed and then started panicking in case we weren’t going to do it again.  Son 1 complained that Older Brother had hit him.  “You don’t need to tell me,” I said.  “Santa is very close and he’ll be watching Older Brother and won’t bring him any presents.”  They made up.  Cake was served.  Two more boys we know, aged 4 and 2 turned up, with their dad.  The children played, the grown ups chatted.

Some went home, we went back towards the grotto so Son 1 could make a Christmas Table decoration.  Red candle, a bit of clay, a base and all the foliage you can get in for a pound.  Son 1 did a very good job.  We put the boys in the car, they were both asleep by the time we got back to The Town, so I did a quick shopping run around Asda.  Trolley logjam.  Granny and Granddad came round to see the boys, who were fizzing with tiredness.  After bedtime, The Man and I wrapped present after present after present.  Son 2 has about 6 things, Son 1 about 15.  Must get something for Granny and Granddad tomorrow.  And for The Man, I suppose.

1.  Three Good Things

2.  Bright and Beautiful

3. Moonrise

Son 1 aged 4y 2m is on holiday.  Hooray, no early morning chargearound to get to Nursery.  Wonder Nanny’s birthday, and we’d got balloons and cakes to celebrate.  And a visitor from HQ at The Office, nice to see them, seemed to go well.  So I had Three Good Things… but it’s been a hard day.  Son 2, after his learning-to-walk triumph, tottering confidently here and there for a week or so, has started to fall over again, or plop down on his bottom.  He did it yesterday, he did it today.  Wonder Nanny has noticed it too.  It didn’t happen with Son 1 and I don’t like seeing him do it.  The Man wonders about an ear infection maybe affecting his balance.  I am hoping it’s just stuff babies do.

This afternoon was the funeral of a colleague.  In her early sixties, cancer.  Someone who smiled and laughed always, who adored her family and who helped others the whole time.  She was fantastic to Son 1.  A simple service, hundreds of people there.  I walked back with another colleague and we were in adolescent mood.  It was so unfair.  She would have made so much difference to so many people if she’d been given another twenty years, yet there are people who do get those twenty years who do nothing with them.   We decided she would want us to be positive, and cheered ourselves up.  And then we went to the Wake, where the pub was full of people chatting, and her poor broken-hearted husband who’d given up pretending not to cry.  It was still unfair.

After the children went to bed I posted some Christmas Cards, just to go for the walk.  On the way back, across the river, I saw a faint light on the horizon.  Oh good, I thought, a moon rise.  I’ll stay and watch it because it’ll be quick and it’ll make me feel better.  The smoky cloud was just at hilltop level, and light spread behind it.  Then I realised that the moon must have risen already behind the cloud, because there was only light diffusing over a wider area, with no sign of anything causing it.  And then a molten gold ingot appeared on the horizon.  Fiery, far brighter than before.   A round orange face inched over the hill, a part golden coin gradually appearing,  It was amazing.  The water was still, the cloud was in charcoal smudges across the brightening sky.  Within minutes the gold coin had separated from the horizon, and was slowly lifting off into the sky.  The higher it went, the whiter it became, its reflection shimmering on the still river.  A last message from my late colleague.

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.  Birthday presents

2.  Birthday tea

3.  The Parade

4.  Peter Pan

5.  Birthday meal

It’s The Man’s birthday. Son 1 aged 3 y 10m opened all the presents, Son 2 aged 10m scrunched and ate the paper.  Son 1 unwrapped an iPod and various add-on bits,  clearly having no idea what they were all for.  A bit like his parents.    Another part of The Man’s present was when I took both boys into town in heavy rain to buy snacks and drinks, so he could read his iPod instructions.  We bought bread-and-cheese-straws-and-grapes-and-ham-and-smoked-salmon-and-quiche-and-garlic-bread-and-juice-and-milk.  But then Son 2 wanted his lunch, so we had to start back.  Son 1, acted up at the idea of skipping the balloon shop - for him the entire point of the trip into The Town.  So, despite a laden pram and a loudly miaowing infant, we dripped into the balloon shop.  Son 1 chose a farming Happy Birthday balloon for him, and a Thomas the Tank Engine one for The Man.    The balloons were filled with helium, and then we started up the hill home.  It rained and rained.  By the time we got back, the balloons had so much water on them they were floating only hip high.

A two and a half year old, and his parents, and Friend aged Five, and his parents, invited round for cake and snacks.  My idea was the children would sit down and have an early tea ahead of The Parade, while the grown ups drank Buck’s Fizz.  The boys ran riot on floors 1 and 2, while the adults and Son 2 sat downstairs and ate the birthday tea and gossiped.  They returned only for the lighting of the 12 candles on the Caterpillar Cake.  Son 1 and 2.5 year old were being lobsters in The Parade - the startlingly good, funny and very realistic costumes made by 2.5’s mother.  We were all supposed to be meeting at 5.30pm in The Park.  But it rained, and rained and rained.  The mist rolled in over the river so we could barely see the water… it rolled out again.  “It’s clearing,” we all said. It rolled in again.  And then it bucketed down so hard the rain bounced 8 inches high back off the shed roof.

2.5 year old’s parents took Son 1 and me to The Park while The Man pushed Son 2 in the buggy.  It was still very wet.  We dressed the lobsters, and they looked fantastic.  We were walking in front of a giant octopus.  The 2.5 year old’s mum decided against wearing her limpet headdress - she thought it would come to pieces in the rain.  In front of us was a group of French revolutionaries, with pitchforks and guillotines.  Every so often during the parade they would stop and have someone’s head off.  Son 1 and the 2.5 year old were cheerfully shouting “Off off off off off” with the rest of them.  A kind revolutionary always positioned his fake barrel organ so they couldn’t quite see what was going on.  “Why are they waving those buns in the air?” asked Son 1.  Marie Antoinette.  With a plate of cakes on a bricklayer’s hod.      

The rain petered out, and the French Revolution stopped to cut off the head of someone in the crowd.   While we were waiting, five children plus grown up attendants stepped out from a shop porch  in front of us.  Wendy, Tinker Bell, Peter Pan, Tiger Lily, and, very small, and in an impeccable costume, Captain Hook.  How does that happen to me?  Son 1 has a lovely pirate captain’s outfit which he has already practised wearing for his Peter Pan birthday party. The only child in the land with a Peter Pan fixation, and behold! 5 perfect costumes sashay in front of us.    It started to rain again.  The Neverland team drifted off into another shop overhang and we were back with the revolutionaries.   Too late.  Son 1 had the poop-poop expression of Toad when he first sees a car.  “Mummy I want a Captain Hook outfit with long hair and a feather and a glass sword.”

Neverland aside, Son 1 made a great lobster.  Both of them were pointed at, waved to and aaaah-ed at.  He waved back like he was in a boy band, he splashed his tail and wellies in puddles.  He ran full pelt down the street to catch up the French Revolution when we had to wait for repairs to the Octopus.  He held out his collection bucket to everyone.  He blew his whistle in time to the Revolutionaries.  He danced to music from the barrell organ.   The costume-making genius and I had discussed how she could sell such outfits online.  After a cry of “Oh look at the little lobsters, I want one,” we realised we could sell the children too. 

Both lobsters were worn out and clingy by the end of The Parade, so we went straight home.  The Man and I just about got the boys to bed in time for the taxi to the restaurant where we were having his birthday meal. The other couple we were meeting were waiting for us, him in chatty NBF conversation with our ex-MP - unseated last time.  Great meal, good wine, a lot of fun, and a very nice evening.  The friends had bought me a birthday card.  Just a minor detail to get wrong.

1.  Blur

2.  Breathless

3.  Bliss

A bit of a grind at The Office. Had to go early because of VIP visitors, and then had two hour presentation at lunchtime.  Non stop.  So, didn’t feel I saw very much of Son 1 aged 3 y 10m or Son 2 aged 10m this morning.  Fed Son 2, got him downstairs, posted another spoonful of food in his mouth every time I whirled past his high chair, and then fled upstairs to get ready as soon as I’d packed his lunch.  Then out of the house, waving goodbye to The Man, standing there holding Son 2, and Son 1 running to the gate in his socks to wave back.

Finally after all the action, I was tearing round The Big Town gathering stuff for The Man’s birthday. He rang.  He was busy.  Could I get the boys from nursery.  Er.. no.  Still too much to do left back at The Office.  Fine.  He will have to get them, wait till I’m home and then go back to work.  Then Glamorous 22 year old Graduate (not a student any more) rang. At work in The Happening Town, but feeling unwell.  Came to The Big Town on the bus, and I gave her a lift back to The Town.  Which made me very late indeed.

Feeding Son 2, my mind in a fizzy fit over everything that happened today, and everything I still had to do.  And then… little eyelashes on a pale cheek, the feel of a fat little arm against mine… the size of a little fist compared with my hand, a stroke of the soft downey head… and very slowly I came back to the present.  I always (try to) feed Son 2 to sleep, and then I stand up, and his head flops over to my right shoulder; his sign that he’s ready to go in his cot.  Some nights I can’t get away from him, but tonight he was exhausted after nursery and was comatose when I pulled the cot side up.  And went in to Son 1 for a round of Pumpkin Soup.  The Best You Ever Tasted.   

1. The Church Hall

2.  10m+

3.  Running

I booked the church hall for Son 1 aged 3y 10m’s 4th birthday party today.  He wants the same as we did last year:  hall, bouncy castle, nursery nurse doing games, cake made from goo and as many friends as he can think of.  He wants a Peter Pan theme -  a slight move on from last year’s, which was Pirates.  Although he did get to Peter Pan via Scooby Doo.  He is in love with Daphne.  Why is that?  On behalf of Velmas everywhere, I am deeply disappointed that despite 3 y and 10m of exposure to a marvellous can-do female role model he’s gone for the bimbo.  However.  The real pothole in the pavement here is that I am mentally planning this extravaganza when it is Son 2’s 1st birthday before Son 1’s.  

Son 2 has eaten nearly a whole big jar of food.  I took a few spoonfuls of a 10m+ jar out for him on Sunday evening, and he didn’t want it.  Wonder Nanny got the remainder out of the fridge for his lunch and he ate it all.  That means he is now a big strapping 10m baby who can eat nearly half a pound of food at one sitting.  Hooray.  And there I was on Friday, trailing round Tesco nearly in tears because he only ate a few spoonfuls of food at a time.  Of course he did it for Wonder Nanny.  When it’s me feeding him, he’ll probably go back to four atoms per meal.

It’s rained on and off all day. The boys were asleep by 1915 for once.  It wasn’t raining.  I didn’t go running at the weekend because we were boating all day long, both days.  And I so didn’t want to go tonight.  “I’m very tired, and I’ve got too much work to do.”  I thought.  “I can get back on the exercise thing on Thursday,” I thought.  “It’ll pour with rain,” I thought.  And then I put on my running kit and I went.  Really enjoyed it, and felt great at the end.  And now I’m so pleased I did it. 

1. The Museum

2. Boys stuff

3. Out for Dinner

As of 7am Son 2 aged 9 months had 5 and a half hours sleep in 24 hours.  He screamed last night from 2330 till nearly 3am and then woke up at half past five. We are all dropping.  The Man took Son 1 aged 3 and a half off to work with him this morning because Mummy was getting grumpy - he was only supposed to be going in for an hour because of the Business Trip.  And I got everything ready to take Son 2 out.  We went to The Museum and met up with some friends. The Man dropped Son 1 off - couldn’t stay, too busy.  The boys had a good play, Son 2 joined in and seemed to enjoy himself, and my friend and I agreed that although this is hard it will get better.

Son 2 finally dozed off in the pram as we walked back from The Museum. Son 1 and I went into the shoe shop to get his feet measured.  I think the assistants just look inside the children’s shoes when they’re taken off and add a half size to last time’s measurement.  Son 1 is now Size 9, and luckily there were some size 9 shoes in the sale.  He clutched them to his chest as I tried him in some sandals.  “I want these ones.”  Because they have flashing heels.     He has also been running a stick along railings and shop security grids… he dried his hands under a lower-than-normal dryer in a loo and then kept sticking his head underneath to make it come on and mess his hair up.  When did my baby become such a Boy?

It’ll soon be Mother’s birthday, and  I managed to get a present and a couple of cards, which I think is a Positive Achievement.  I tried to get two photos sorted for presents - one for Mum and one for Son 2’s Godmother… but the instant photo machine in the shop couldn’t do what I wanted so I’ll pick up the prints tomorrow.   Younger Sister and Godfather 2 are staying with Mum, so we all out for an early meal to celebrate.  Pizza.  We didn’t really get away with it because Son 2 was so tired, hot and ill.  He’s usually up for going out for meals and coffees, he likes trying food, throwing food, squodging food and watching people.  Tonight though he just grizzled and groaned, his nose runny, his cheeks red, his eyes watery and his voice VERY LOUD INDEED.      But Son 1 behaved beautifully, and it is always good to see Younger Sister and Godfather 2.