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. 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.  Bared Teeth

2.  Hand Holding

3.  The People On The Bus

The Man took Son 2 aged 18m downstairs this morning while I grabbed some more time in bed.  Son 2 howled and hollered.  Stood at the bottom of the ground floor stairs baying upwards.  Son 1 aged 4yrs 6m woke, shrieking for Mummy.   I collected Son 1 on my hip and took him downstairs.  Son 2 cranked up his tantrum because I was carrying Son 1.  I picked up Son 2.  He screamed and shouted and pushed Son 1 away. I put Son 1 down.  He curled up in a miserable ball on the kitchen floor.  I tried to get Son 2 to give him a kiss and a cuddle to make up.  He wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t stop yelling.  We gave him teething powder. He quietened down.  He has three canines coming through.  They seem to pop out and then sink back.  The bottom right one is now an iceberg tip - I’m sure it was bigger a few days ago.  And the bottom left one came through with a shred of pink gum up the side.  The pink bit’s gone, but the tooth still looks like it’s gone back in.   Poor child.

Dressed, breakfasted, shoe-d and coat-ed, the boys were ready to leave the house and waiting for me.  Son 1 opened the door. This terrifies us.  He’s fine, but Son 2 never stops trying to escape. A whiff of fresh air and he’s straight outside.  I rolled up the blind and put a chair next to the door so Son 1 could see out.  Then Son 2 needed a chair next to him.  Two little backs. One little head peering out, another little head, shoulder-high, alongside.   Holding hands.  Mush.

 Son 1 has been nagging me to take him on a bus. We are a rural, two-car family, so buses aren’t big in our lives.  We drove to the Big Town to the Park And Ride.  Both boys in raptures.  Son 2 pointed and pointed.  “Buh!  Buh!”  “And what do The Wheels on the Bus do?”  “Rah rah.”  And, as it was raining, The Wipers On The Bus Went Swish Swish Swish. All Day Long.  Son 1’s cheeks were fat with his smiles.  We went to the Big Town Museum. Free entry, and full of other rained-out families. The boys dressed as spacemen and played with lego.  We walked from one end of the Big Town to the other to get the bus back.  We were last off. Son 1 had removed his waterproof trousers and taken his shorts and pants down as well.  And we needed to sort the buggy.  A Bus Man came on and started pressing all the bell buttons.  “It’s the law,” he said, self-consciously. “Because we’ve got them, we have to check they work.”  “Do you need anyone to help you?” I asked.  “Because Son 1 would love that job.”    Son 1 got to press button after button after button.  He did indeed love that job. And The Bells On The Bus did indeed Go Ding Ding Ding.

1.  Lost And Found

2.  Delicious

3.  Two Little Monkeys Bouncing On The Bed

Very Tired Indeed.   Grumped out of bed this morning, cold-ridden, knackered, children chatting with The Man downstairs.  Ran tap, put contact lenses in.  Pulled out plug.  Shut one eye.  Opened it.  Shut the other eye.   Opened it.  Something not right.  One lens missing.  I checked the basin, the surrounds, the contact lens case, my nightie, the floor.  I froze.  Son 1 aged 4y 3m called me.  “Get Daddy,” I called back.  “He’s downstairs!” “Tell him I need him!”  The Man tramped up, grumpling.  He’d left Son 2 aged 16m in the kitchen, on his own,  three flights down.  He tramped down again.  And tramped up again,  grumbling loudly, carrying Son 2.  He checked the basin, the surrounds, the contact lens case, me, the floor.  He took the sink to bits.  I was still motionless.  No spares. How-much-are-contact-lenses/how-long-will-a-new-one-take/when-the-hell-will-I-be-able-to-get-a-new-one/how-will-I-see/how-will-I-work/how-will-I-drive.  “Found it!” chirped Son 1 cheerfully, diving into the corner.   By George he’d Got It.  He wins a Scooby Do Pirate Dvd.  I clapped him.  And dropped the lens again.  The Man grumbled murderously.

A late afternoon appointment in The Town, so I picked Son 1 up early-ish.  The children  were watching Tom and Jerry. When we went to get his coat there was a basin of apple chunks, and lots of little plastic plates and beakers arranged round tables.  “Were you about to have a snack?” “Yes.  A biscuit.”  “Why don’t you ask if you can have one in the car?” “You ask.”  I did.  The Assistant then produced a large plate of fairy cakes, topped with more icing than cake.  Son 1 helped himself.  In the car he told me about his snacks.  “We have banana and orange and apple and sometimes for a special treat mango. ” A pause.  ”This cake is delicious.”

At home Son 2 ignored me for the first 10 minutes and then wouldn’t let me go.  He was exhausted, so I sat him on the bed and started his books.  Son 1 came and bounced on the bed.   “You can be with us if you sit still and keep quiet.”  He sat quietly next to us.  Son 2 climbed over me and plopped his head between the pillows.  Then he lay on top of Son 1.  Son 1 giggled.  He piled pillows on  top of Son 2.  Son 2 giggled.  End of reading.  Cuddling, squashing, laughing, pushing.  Son 2 stood up and bounced.  Uncontrolled delight from Son 1.  He was carried off to the bath by The Man.  Son 2 carried on bouncing.  He wouldn’t go back to his books, and wriggled off to the bathroom. A cry rang out from Son 1: “We just want to bounce!”

1.  Departure point

2.  The Arrival

3.  Destination

I had an Office meeting out in the woolly wilds.  To get there I had to drive through the Village where The Man and I used to live, and round shady country lanes, still icy in the sunlight, leaveless trees silhouetted against the blue sky, rolling fields glowing in the sunshine… All my old running routes.  i ran those roads so often, in so many kinds of weather, that I could almost reach straight back to a morning like today, when only the sound of my feet on the tarmac and a bit of birdsong broke the silence, when I felt cold and warm, alive and envigorated.  An almost senseless network of roads forking, joining, looping and twisting, which I learned by just running along on sunny mornings and choosing left or right randomly.  

A friend living near the venue for the Meeting has just had a 9lb little boy.  The Man and I sorted out baby toys last night.  Pang.  So I stopped off with cards and presents for him and his two brothers. He was gorgeous.  11 days old, soft, floppy, a thatch of black hair, heavenly little hands, a tiny gummy mouth and a little blobby nose.  Used to Son 2 aged 15m’s rigid, solid form, I picked up the newborn and nearly caber-tossed him at the ceiling.  How are they ever that small?  He was lovely, he slept all the time, and my friend is indeed a Very Clever Girl.  At the point where his eldest brother offered me a game of Power Ranger Top Trumps, I left for my meeting.

The plan was, I would get out of The Office a bit early, collect Son 1 aged 4y 3m, go shopping with him in Tesco and solve the problem that at home, there was no food, washing powder, loo rolls or cleaning stuff.  Plans, schmans.  I got out of The Office a Bit Late, picked up Son 1 a Bit Late, got to Tesco Very Late, and then had a bored, tired, hungry and grumpy 4 year old to tow round while I did a mega-shop.  He got: jelly tots, character pasta, a marked-down Christmas biscuit icing kit, a black forest gateau and a box of ice lollies.  He did not get: a Ben 10 top, a Ben 10 chocolate egg (Yup, they’ve put them out already) a comic, a toy or a box of cream cakes.  I’m putting that down as a score draw.  We were back so late that The Man was trying to get Son 2 down for the night.  So we sabotaged that effort.  Son 1 said Goodnight to Son 2.  Son 2 let himself be cuddled, snugged, and let Son 1 stroke his cheek.  “I love you, Son 2, you’re so handsome,” said Son 1.

1.    Three In A Bed

2.    Teddy Goes To Lapland

3.    Bracing

MUMMEEEEEEE DADDDEEEE I DID A POOOOOOO……  6am. I catapulted down the stairs because if I can just stop the shouting soon enough then Son 2 aged 15m will stay asleeWAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH.  Son 1 aged 4y 3m was sitting up on his bed in the dark, bewildered, sobbing, and clean and dry.  “Just lie down quietly and I’ll get Son 2,” I whispered.  “NOOOOOOOO. Don’t GOOOOO.”  I picked up Son 2, brought him into Son 1’s room and and plopped him down in the bed.  Son 1 on one side.  Me on the other.  Son 2 snuggled me.  Son 1 cuddled Son 2 and Son 2 let him.  Cherubim and Seraphim bugled away in the Heavens. Son 2 has never lay down in a bed next to Son 1, even though Son 1 has been desperate to have him as his teddy.  I dozed.  We must have been there well over half an hour.  Then a thin little arm snaked over Son 2 so fingers could stroke my eyebrows.  Son 2 tried to get rid of the arm and wailed.  Son 1 wailed: “I like doing that.”  We got up.

I came back from The Office to the sound from the kitchen of Son 2’s liquid laughter and Son 1 chortling, chuckling and squealing.    The Man had taken the paper chains down, and the children were pulling them to pieces, running up and down with bits, and, in Son 2’s case, eating them.  Son 1 ran around, giggling, Son 2 waddled, wide-legged, delighted, and refusing to stop for The Biggest Hug Of The Day.  The Man started dismantling the Christmas Tree.  Son 1 was fine while he could play with the decorations, but as he realised everything was going away was desolate: “It’s a stupid idea.” We read the Christmas books for the last time, and he fell asleep during Teddy Goes To Lapland.

In my Running Years I felt lazy if I’d only exercised 4 times a week, and ran 12 miles every Saturday just to “keep my fitness up.”  I also spent four months  working - and compulsively running - in dark and chilly parts.  And yet I have never, never been as cold on a run as I was tonight.  Frost was already on the cars and the pavements glinted.   My calves felt like knitting needles had been stuck through them, and my toes hurt.  Usually there are four or five people out walking dogs in the evening when I run.  None tonight.  The only other person I saw was a Proper Runner, the smack of their feet on the pavement sounding long before they passed me.  Dressed in a woolly hat, thick woolly tracksuit top and thick woolly tracksuit bottoms.  I was in a long sleeved tee shirt, running tights and rainproof gilet.  Spot the difference.

1.  Energy = Mass Times The Speed Of Light Squared

2.  Bonded Particles

3.  Planetary Movements

I have been awake forever.  Bring chocolate.  Son 1 aged 4y 3m arrived in the Big Bed at 2am.  He woke me at 4am, and I couldn’t get back to sleep.  I tiptoed in to Son 2 aged 15m’s room and got into bed.  He stayed asleep, I stayed awake. I  went downstairs at 0520.  Put some washing on, hung some washing out.  Emptied dishwasher.  Made sandwiches.  Drank coffee.  Had breakfast.  Read Sunday Times.  Made snack box for Son 1 after Nursery.  So easy this work and child-rearing thing. Just skip the sleep and the rest falls into place.

Two penguin dances this morning.  Son 1’s was in the bathroom, trying to distract Son 2 so he’d let me put a nappy on.  If a tuning fork lifted its prongs up one at a time, very fast, it would look a bit like Son 1’s rigid-legged, madly-paced tap dance.  And then Son 2, in his usual skewwhiff-didn’t-catch-me nappy, copied.  Laughing, staring up at Son 1 with his “you’re fantastic” look on.  Holding hands, bumping over.  One sight of me approaching with a baby vest and off he zoomed towards the stair gate.

It was just about light when I parked the car to pick Son 1 up.  Two weeks past the solstice and already I can just about tell that the days are getting longer again.  Good Thing.  Spring is on the way, hooray.  The Man and I have worked out why it’s so cold.  It’s Winter.  Son 1 and I headed home in the gloom, a bright, low light in the sky which I assume was Venus.  In the old days I’d know.  We were late, surprise surprise, way past Wonder Nanny’s home time.  But there she was just leaving as we parked the car.  Instantly I mentally blamed The Man - he’s back late, she’s had to wait - but no, she’d been hanging on to see Son 1 because she’s missed him.  Son 2 giggled, pleased to see me, but then exploded into his biggest, loudest, longest tantrum yet.  Being positive, there are probably now several small Universes in existence that weren’t there before.  Pang pang pang.  He was so tired, and he was so pleased to see us, and he just lost it and was overwhelmed with crashing emotions.  I put him in the bath and ran the shower and we got him back in the end.

1. At least

2. Wassap

3. I don’t want to go to nursery

God we had a rough night.  Son 2 aged 8m woke up at around 2 and I went in to him.  Wrong move.  He wanted to feed himself back to sleep, and I didn’t want to.  And he roared and roared.  I tried everything. Cuddling him, holding him, sitting with him, lying him down beside me in the bed, gaviscon, calpol… in the end we put Son 1 aged 3 and a half upstairs with The Man.  I stayed with Son 2, but no matter what I did - or didn’t do - he screamed and screamed. So I went downstairs and made a cup of tea, and when I came back he’d howled himself to sleep.  So the positive thing is, at least I didn’t lose it at any point.  And he did, in the end go back to sleep.  But it was awful.  We’ve decided that if he wakes up again we’re just going to leave him.  It’s just too hard trying to get him back to sleep.

He woke us all up again at 0630.  I fed him, and let him stand up on the floor to wind him.  While he was swaying around,  Son 1 came blearily down the stairs.  As soon as Son 2 saw him he did his mad I-love-Son1 cackle, and Son 1 cackled back, and they had a hug.  Son 2 never stops watching Son 1.  Son 1 always plays up for his audience.

Son 1 didn’t want to go to nursery.  Why not?  I asked.  I just don’t, he said.   I like going to the Trade Show and going to the swimming pool and going out on the boat and seeing our friends and going on holiday.  So do I darling, so do I.  

1. Little munchkin

2. 2 boys in a cot

3.  A mark of affection

A little munchkin in bed with me last night because The Man was away.  And yes I have noticed that I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to get Son 2 aged 7m out of my bed, only to let Son 1 aged 3 and a half in the moment there’s a vacancy.  I woke up this morning and lay very still so I didn’t wake Son 1 up.  And then felt him stir, sit up, take the quilt, put it over my shoulders and tuck me in… Mush. 

Son 2 started to cry shortly after, so I sent Son 1 down to look after him while I put my contact lenses in.  When I got downstairs, Son 1 was in the cot, cuddling Son 2 who was smiling and laughing in his sleeping bag.    Utter mush.

The Man was sitting up in the bay window waving at me when I got back to the house after work.  Wonder Nanny was just going, and the two of us swung into Books, Bath and Bed action.  The Man was bathing Son 1 while I was feeding Son 2.  He (Son 2!) had wind, so I let him stand up on his feeding pillow and smile down at me.  And then I kissed and kissed his little bare tummy to make him laugh and laugh.   And then he was very sick indeed.  In my face.  Er… mush.