1.  Grey Day

2.  Blue Tongue

3.  Red Sauce

Each year, the Village where some Wednesday Friends live has a Spring Bank Holiday Do. Each year it is wiped out by the weather. If this year was a not a success, the Do would be scrapped, and the Village would be, as the Wednesday Mother put it, f++**d, as the proceeds pay for the playgroup and the OAP outings and the Hall.  And so, at 12 noon, I pushed Son 2 aged 20m in the Big Pram through sopping wet, calf-high grass and cowpats the size of carpet tiles.  Son 1 aged 4y 8m trailed alongside, complaining that he needed wellies as his trainers were already soaked. All of us were in waterproofs, battered by a sharp Northerly wind, an oppressive, overcast sky and cold, hard, rain.   

We found Best Friend, Younger Brother, the Dog and the Wednesday Mother. We sat on the matting in a Small Top. (Supposed to be a Big Top. But…er.. it wasn’t.) Son 2 cried and clung because he didn’t want to be close to the Dog. Son 1, BF and YB ran riot on the staging.  A unicycle display began - including the man I saw surreally unicycling past the house well over a year ago. http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/wp-admin/post.php?action=edit&post=34 We saw a family whose father is away with The Man on his Business Trip.  We bought popcorn. Son 1 rode on a mini carousel. Son 2 cried because it was free-hanging so he couldn’t go on it. We found another with a baseboard and Son 2 clung to a pony, carefully taking my hands off to prove he was Big Enough to ride alone.  Son 1 had blue candy floss. Oh La La the blue tongue and teeth.  Son 1 went up a high bouncy castle slide, came down once, went back up and then sat at the top crying. The owner’s daughter had to go and help him down the stairs. And I got my pound back.

Son 2 cried and clung, and I bought him chips. He ignored them, preferring to dip his finger into the tomato sauce and eat that.  He was frozen, so I stripped off his mac and put a hoodie and a thicker coat on him, and went back into the Small Top.  Son 1 had already found our other Wednesday Friends. We watched some acrobats twirl around upside down in long sashes up in the roof.  Outside, the boys’ old (male) Nursery Nurse was making balloons for children. Son 1 joined the gang to watch, Son 2 sat in his Pram. The music thumped. Son 2 fell asleep. 

The 2nd Wednesday Mum bought me a mug of Spiced Chai, and we sat chatting while Son 1 disappeared inside a teepee with the Nursery Nurse and a gang of children. Son 2 was soundo. The other Wednesday Mother joined us. Son 1 emerged with a balloon sword. Five boys ran round, sword-fighting, inflatable hammering and allbut darting under the wheels of a steam engine.  I can’t remember the last time the 5 of them were together.  When they interfered with the natural willow-woven made-from-recycled-material sculptures once too often, we decided to head back. 

At home I thanked Son 1 for a lovely day. “Thank you for a lovely day as well, Mummy.”

1.  The Mystery Of Faith

2.  Let There Be Light

3.  The Patience Of Job

Son 1 aged 4y 2m and I went to Church.  First Sunday of Advent.  We sat at the back.  He burnt his fingers on a boiling hot pipe running along the wall just above the floor.  We were taken through a side door to a little kitchenette.  The water was so cold that Son 1 soon decided his fingers didn’t hurt anymore.  He did a puzzle at the back.  Then he reached into his Parkha pocket.  “I’ve got something for you,” he whispered.  And produced a handful of bigger-than-pea gravel.  “Where did you get that?” I asked.  “From the beach,” he whispered.  He coloured in his stones with the Church’s felt tip pens to make jewels for his Treasure Chest.  

Late Afternoon we walked down to The Square for the Parade to switch on the Town’s Christmas Lights.  Son 2 aged 14m was trussed up in his cosi toe, happy in his woolly hat.  Son 1 had four layers on including a fleece and his Parkha.  He was too tired to walk down and rode on The Man’s shoulders.  He wanted candy floss, which his Favourite Thing in All The World, even though he’s never tasted it.  In The Square it was perishing.  Son 1 sulked over candy floss, Santa helium balloons, although a friend supplied some raisins in yoghurt which quietened him.  The Parade started.  We were behind the Samba band and the Mayors’ parties, but in front of Santa.  There were sweets. Lots of them.  Lollies and haribous and chocolates, handed out from great carriers full.  Carols were sung, the Lights went on.  I listed Son 1’s sugar intake as I cleaned his teeth: ice cream, yoghurt raisins, haribous, lollipop, more jelly sweets, candy floss, more haribous and raisins.  He bounced off the walls like a squash ball.

Son 2 aged 14m woke 4 times in 90 minutes after we put him to bed.  He’s been sick twice, crying himself into gagging because I haven’t rushed up.  I’ve just cracked and lay down on the double bed with him to get him back to sleep… and that’s taken well over half an hour.  He has started drooling again, so it could be teeth.  It could be separation anxiety - I don’t feel as if I saw a lot of him today… he could be coming down with something…  it could just be too much stimulus from the Lights switch on.  I really thought we were getting somewhere with his sleeping, but that was awful.  And I’ve still got to get him in his cot when we go to bed.  However.  Today I gathered up my 5 remaining feeding bras and threw them out.  Progress Has Been Made.