1.  Domestic Goddess

2.  Domestic Drama

3.  Domestic Bliss

Working yesterday meant I had today off.  Wonder Nanny was off, so it was Son 1 aged 4y 11m, Son 2 aged 23m and me.  September.  Strewth.  The boys were knackered after yesterday, and we all have rotten, rotten colds, so I aimed low.  Maybe some cake making, I thought. Maybe a stroll into The Town.  Maybe.  “What do you want to do Son 1?” “Crabbing.”  The Man took an early lunch, and down to The Hotel With The River View we strolled.  We have by trial and error arrived at the perfect crabbing design.  A washing tablet bag on a piece of string filled with bacon.  The MAn and Son 1 were hauling ‘em up, four at a time.  Son 1 is brilliant. He’s gone from being too scared to go near a net containing crabs to sticking his hands in and flicking them in the bucket.  “Mind your fingers!” “I am minding my fingers!”  Son 2 likes feeding the captives.  So much that you can’t leave him alone with the bait. He’d plop it all in the bucket for his prisoners.  He lost interest and was more interested in paddling in the tidal puddles on the quayside and flipping stones and winkles in the river.  The tide was coming in, The Man was running out of time. He took the bucket and nets… I took two small, tired boys back to the house. 

I’d roasted a pile of beetroot while we were out. And I made it into pink soup for lunch. In the Duck and The Cat and The Squirrel, they make pink soup one day when they’ve run out of pumpkins. ”I’m not eating that!” said The Duck.  “It’s Pink.”  Son 2 took one look and refused. And when Son 1 realised Son 2 was getting away with not eating it, he refused as well. So I gave them the leftover hummous and veg from  yesterday’s packed lunch and ate two bowls. It was Delicious.   Then we made fairy cakes. Son 1 and Son 2 took turns to press the food processor buttons.  They carefully put the cake papers in the tray.  They broke the eggs. And they licked the bowl out. We watched Wall E. Son 1 pestered to ice the cakes. I said he could if he ate all his tea.  He did.  I made icing while they stuffed their faces with cake sweets. We had a whole pot of jelly tot sweets… There are none on the cakes.  Son 2 just stood on his chair by the chopping board, his attention rigidly fixed on shoving as many sweets in his mouth as he could before someone took them away.  And then Man Oh Man I got the sugar rush I deserved. Son 1 cannonballed back and forth; Son 2 giggled like a drunk. The Man came home. “They made me do it,” I muttered sheepishly as he picked up Son 1 by his torso, his arms and legs still whizzing round like a wound-up bath toy.

I finally got them to bed. Son 1 is still on Book  Club. I went to Book Club last Thursday, which meant I had to leave during his bedtime. “Can I come? I’ll bring one of my books.” “You can have a Book Club tomorrow.. as many as you like.”  On Friday he had all his Thomas books, and all his Mr Men books on a big pile. We counted.  58 books.  We have done about 20.  This evening he passed out after about five. I went downstairs. The Man had made fajitas, because we both have colds.  We ate them downstairs, no telly, no newspaper. A glass of wine, and we talked to each other. We agreed we must do it more often.

1.  Palava

2.  Pyjamas

3.  Perfidy

I am back online, hooray hooray. Got knocked out in a rainstorm. Palava. Now sorted.  In summary: The Man went on Business Trip; Granny and Granddad here; Wednesday Friend is now 5, which means a rack of 5th birthdays coming up;  The Man back from Business Trip; Nanna babysat while Granny, Granddad, The Man and I went out for a meal at Nice Restaurant.

And here I am.  Not even a particularly Good Day to come back on. I left early, and did a Big Shop so got back late. Hardly saw the boys.  I doubled parked to unload the shopping.  A little figure aged 22m, in pyjamas was standing in the 2nd floor window, the blackout blind pulled down behind him, looking down at me.   I waved.  He looked and looked. I heaved the shopping out on to the pavement, I heaved the first bags into the house. Son 1 aged 4y 10m pelted downstairs, also in pyjamas. “Mummee, Mummee.”  The Man came down with Son 2. “I need to park the car,” I said. “You have him and I’ll park the car,” he said, dumping Son 2 into my arms. ”They’ve both had their baths and Son 1’s cleaned his teeth but Son 2 hasn’t.” At least that’s what I thought he said. 

“Son 1, come here and I’ll clean your teeth.” “They’re clean. You need to do Son 2’s.”  I sat Son 2 on my knee and carefully cleaned his teeth.  He has a cut lip.  The Man came back. “Why are you cleaning his teeth?” He said. “I’ve done them. It’s Son 1 who needs doing.” Son 1 cackled in delight. “I got you!”  It was Book Club night for me and Son 1.  He has as many books as he likes. He chose his entire Disney set. I got away with 11, because we’ve lost The Incredibles.

1.  Watching The Clock

2.  Losing The Way

3.  Finding The Time

I always try never to wish my boys’ childhoods away, but when they are grown I will not miss day after day after day of mad, face-heating, lip-biting, traffic-cursing, watch-glancing panic trying to get Son 1 aged 4y 8m out of Daycare/Nursery/Tea Club by closing.    He was sitting on a  little plastic chair, knock-kneed, clutching his schoolbag, his swimming bag and his blazer, watching telly while a couple of teachers stood chatting in their coats.  However. He had a big Well Done sticker on his jumper, and a certificate proclaiming him “Star Of The Week.” For Being A Good Friend, A Good Worker and A Good Boy.

I’d bought him an ELC golf set at lunchtime, because he won both his races in his swimming gala yesterday.  25m butterfly and backstroke.   Oh all right then, they do half the pool, four at a time, on noodles helped by teachers. But he did win, and he of course has his present for Trying Hard rather than Being Clever.   The ELC was giving away balloons, so the backseat toy tally on the way home was two plastic golf clubs, two plastic balls and two green balloons.  Wonder Nanny was helping out her Other Family, looking after their boys while the parents were at a wedding.  I was driving to theirs to pick up Son 2 aged 20m.  I’ve never been, and had arranged to ring Wonder Nanny to get directions on our way over.  I fished in my bag for my phone.  Couldn’t find it. Stopped at a garage. Took the bag, the front seat, and the car to pieces.  No phone. In another panic, I slid the car seat back. There was a loud explosion and a wail from the back seat.  I’d reversed over an Early Learning Centre balloon.   

I drove all the way home. Rang Wonder Nanny from the house phone. Checked the house answer phone. Rang the mobile, no reply.  Went out to the double-parked car, where Son 1 had fallen asleep.   Rang the mobile.  Heard the mobile. Inside an envelope in my bag. Into car. Out to Other Family’s.  When Son 2 saw me he laughed and laughed and clapped his hands. That’s what I needed.  A round of applause just for turning up.  On the trip back, Son 1 spotted a playground, and from then on, all the way back whined and whinged to go there. I have bought a new childcare book. I used all its techniques at teatime, and although it went on forever, and although Son 1 had three lollies for pudding… it was a lot easier than normal and I didn’t need a glass of wine. 

Last night, desperate to get out to Book Club, I told Son 1 “I’m going now, but tomorrow, you can have as many books as you like, and I will read them all.”  Subtext. He’ll fall asleep in the third one. 12 books.  I didn’t get downstairs again till twenty to ten…

1.  Words

2.  Pictures

3.  Action

I woke at 4am and couldn’t go back to sleep.  At 5am I went downstairs with Vikram Seth’s Two Lives.  A Wednesday Mother is running her book club this month and we are all reading it so we can go along.  A Suitable Boy defeated me.  I can’t remember why, especially as I’m really enjoying this one.  And I’m usually good at persevering.  I think the only other one I abandoned, bored, baffled and bewildered, was Ulysses.  One miserable summer when I decided I would only read mind-enriching work.  I escaped into  Harlan Coben and wouldn’t come out for months afterwards.   The Man came down at 0530, and then decided he’d have another go at going back to sleep.  And next thing I heard from upstairs was the shower running. 

Son 1 aged 4y 6m wet the bed and Son 2 aged 18m did a mighty poo that went through his pyjamas.  The Man showered Son 1 and stripped the bed while I pressure-washed Son 2.  Into the bath together.  Two shiny wet faces, looking up smiling. They’re grrrreat.  Our morning routine destroyed, we ended up in the lounge.  Son 1 was pulling out the train track; Son 2 was pressing the button to make the DVD drawer come out and go back in again.  And removing the Sky card.  And taking the DVDs out and putting them somewhere.  Poor Cars.  We’ve only had it five days and it has been posted somewhere that only Son 2 knows about.

We went to a Family Fun Day at the local secondary school.  Loads of activities, all free.  Son 1 loved it. He skateboarded and ran round with Best Friend.  Son 2 was harder.  I spent a lot of time trying to catch up the others with the Big Pram in a school riddled with stairs. And then packed it up in the car and carried him.  Son 1 was playing on the skateboards, but Son 2 just wanted to run around.  In an area where 10 year olds on BMXs were swooping back and forth between ramps.  He was tired, strong-willed, deeply interested, not old enough and more than I could manage.  We went inside.  Son 1 waited for half an hour for a dinosaur balloon from the Balloon Man. And then we went outside and Son 2 ran around, picking daisies and crunching up fallen leaves.  The sun blazed down.  Son 1 stripped to his pants and played with Best Friend.  His Mother and I finally got to sit on the grass.  Until Son 2 spotted a gap between some classrooms and started his usual bid for freedom.  

I put Son 1 to bed, lying next to him.  And fell asleep.  The Man woke me when he went to bed at 11pm.  I still needed to work… and stopped at 1am.