1.  Hell Hath No Fury Like A Mummy Forced Onto A Jury 

2.  Big

3.  The Naughty Queen

Both boys slept past 8am.  Not just a Good Thing, an Unheard Of Thing. On every other Wednesday in their lives, an Astonishingly Wonderful Thing.  Today, however, I was still on Jury Service, due in court at 1015, and feeling spectacularly Awful because Son 2 aged 20m was going to someone who, to him, is a near-stranger.  My whole life is run so that I have Wednesdays with my children.   I’ve had every Wednesday of his life with Son 2. I did, I admit, miss half a day of a Wednesday with Son 1 aged 4y 8m - now, why was that?  Anything important I was doing?  Oh yes, giving birth to Son 2.   And try finding someone suitable to look after two small boys for one day only in Half Term week. It was fine. He sobbed miserably when I went, but ate an enormous lunch, and refused to go to sleep all day.  It’s Over. Another Good Thing.  I  know this is a Positive Blog, but just in case any politicos crawl over Mumsnet in search of the Zeitgeist: Do Not Jackboot Mothers Away From Their Toddlers For Jury Service.  It pisses them off.  I posted my vote today, and gentlemen, the score is now even.

Back home for tea. The boys had my leftover rice, kidney beans and sauce from a jar.  “Chair,” said Son 2, insisting on eating it standing on a dining room chair.   We moved Son 1 out of his highchair when Son 2 was about 7 or 8 months old. He would never have dreamed of sitting on anything else until we gently suggested he might like to let his little brother have a turn.   Son 2 is turning into a regular refusnik.  Highchairs are for babies. Bibs go on the floor. Doidy cups are for babies. And give me that big fork, this soppy one with a bear on it is also going on the floor. We don’t actually have enough chairs to let him sit on a big one.  We’ve only got four, and I can’t really put Nanna in the highchair when she comes round.     I may have to involve  Son 1 in a little reverse psychology.

At bedtime, I told Son 1 I was very tired, and needed Daddy back from his Adventures to Do His Share.   “Daddy’s had too many adventures, hasn’t he?”  I agreed. ”I will write a notice for the door. It will say, Daddy, we command you.  Only One More Adventure and then No More Adventures. I will write it and put it on the door and he will see it when he comes home.”  We are reading That Bear Belongs To Emily Brown.  Son 1, although recognising that the Naughty Queen is the Baddie,  is very taken with the idea of Commanding people to do things.

1.  Wonder Nanny

2. Dilemma

3.  Friday Night

Wonder Nanny today starts doing extra days for us.  Huzzah.  Her two weeks’ holiday were a blurry insight into what our lives without her would be.  Ages ago I read that the only way to work full-time is to bite the bullet and get the best childcare you can afford.  We are truly lucky having her.  Son 2 aged 1 went to activity class yesterday… and to church playgroup today.  Poor lamb.  As over-scheduled as if I were home with him.  Yesterday and today Son 1 aged 4 and I had to leave the house before Wonder Nanny arrived, and didn’t get home till after she’d gone.  Son 1 fell asleep in the car on the way back and barely woke before bedtime.

Son 1 seems happier and settled at the New Nursery, although I’m now wondering whether I should drop a day.    It is amazing, but it is a long hike over there, the traffic in the morning is horrible, and we have to get up and get out so early that I feel like I don’t see Son 2.   Now Wonder Nanny’s around, should I just let the poor child sit at home and play with his own toys for a bit before he gets sucked into education and never comes out again? Let him be with his brother for a bit?

My third Good Thing is just getting to the weekend.  I have finished today’s work from The Office (although there’s tonnes left for Monday) so in principle I don’t have to do any more all weekend.  After a very rough month with Son 2 and two Business Trips for The Man - I am starting to feel a bit battered.  And now I will just sit around all weekend while The Man makes the most of every opportunity to help.

1. Let flesh retire

2. Speak through the earthquake, wind and fire

3. Oh still small voice of calm

My weight begins with 11 stone for the first time since Son 2 aged 7 months was grown.  I read a hilarious piece about working women in one of the Sunday magazines - illustrated with pictures of very sleek and elegant, beautifully dressed, hyper-successful businesswomen.  “I am disciplined about my eating, my exercise and my work,” said one.  I don’t think I’ll ever be disciplined about my eating.  In fact in the same mag a couple of months back there was a great piece saying if you’re sleep deprived your system floods with cortisol and your appetite for fat and sugar increases by 25%.   Yum.

The positive thing about Son 2’s post Sauvignon Blanc sleep - was the moment when he finally, after two and a half hours, shut up and passed out.  It was murder.  I gave him a dream feed at about 11, and then he started miaowing at 2.30am.  We got him up but I wouldn’t feed him, and he just went on and on and on and on.  Nothing we could do would settle him - he wanted to feed, and I didn’t want him to.  It’s taken me a while to realise he can’t really do it; his reflux means he’s very uncomfortable lying down after a big feed.  So even if he is in bed with me feeding it still ends in howling.  Often mine.  We are agreed tonight that if he wakes we are going to have to leave him because we simply don’ t know how to get him back to sleep.

He did however, sleep for two hours for Wonder Nanny this afternoon.   I hardly saw Wonder Nanny today.  I had to whizz out when she arrived, at lunchtime I was on the phone to The Office almost all the time, and then she’d gone by the time I got back.  She took the boys to the Pirate Playground for the whole morning.  One of the things that ate me up inside when Son 1 aged 3 and a half was in nursery 4 days a week was the idea that he spent so long cooped up indoors.  So the thought of them both being outside on a fine spring morning does help enormously.

1. Sleeping through

2. The nursery

3. Sauvignon Blanc

Son 2 aged 7 months slept through, in his cot.  He woke when I was going to bed last night,  so I gave him medicine and a feed, and then put him down and went to bed with The Man.  I got up at 0615 and went downstairs to express - I’m still taking a bit off each morning so he doesn’t get flooded - and he was up and in bed with The Man and Son 1 aged 3 and a half when I went back up.  It has been a long hard slog getting him out of sleeping with me, but who knows… he may be going back to the wonderful days of 7pm till 7am sleeping.  Of course as I was feeding him before putting him to bed I was thinking how lovely it would be to just snug up with him.  

Rang the nursery to see how Son 2 was at 1015am and I could hear him howling in the background.  He’d been roaring since I dropped him off.  I went early to feed him, and he had calmed down a bit.  But he’d had  a terrible time because of his day off on Friday, including crying himself sick.  “As bad as he was that first day.”    He was delighted to see me and had a very good feed.  On the bright side,  I’m getting a good chance to look at the nursery while I’m feeding him, and I’m drawing the conclusion that it’s very nice indeed.  Son 1 charges around, playing with the toys, playing with other children, helping himself to books… he joins in all the group activities very well, and most days is “too busy” to come and see me and Son 2.  And it’s clean.  And tidy.  And the floor in the nappy changing area is often wet because they’ve just cleaned it.  And the kitchen is spotless.  The other mums and I can often have a moan (mainly at children’s parties - if the staff knew our conversation topics I’m sure they’d never pass on the invitations) but having watched the whole place operating lunchtime after lunchtime.. I think it’s very good.    

This evening has been much improved by a glass of Sauvignon Blanc.   I’ve had stacks of work to do, but I’ve got through it - except the bits I need other people for and I can finish those tomorrow.  The Man has been working too, so we’ve been sitting in silence apart from the tap tapping of laptop keys.   We drank to “love, laughter and lie-ins.”  As a caring breastfeeding mother of course, I can’t drink very much and I can’t drink very often.  But I bet Son 2 has another good night…

1. The Man in charge

2. Tired eyes

3. The finishing line

I really thought I’d told The Man that he’d have to take the boys to nursery today.  He thinks I told him 5 minutes before I left.  We still have HQ visitors at The Office, so I wanted to be there as early as possible.  The Man bravely put together Son 2 aged 6 months and 3 week’s lunch, Gaviscon, powdered milk, gave both boys breakfast… at which point I went.  It felt very strange striding out of the house carrying just a briefcase.  And a feeding pillow - for my lunchtime visit to Son 2.

Last night’s dinner was with my colleagues from Other Offices, and they’d come over today to see the HQ visitors.  It’s been really good seeing them again.  They all looked fairly knackered, and I was having charitable Positive thoughts that maybe being at work for 6 months is just as tiring as looking after a new baby.  And then realised they’d been up in the bar, talking and drinking and drinking and talking until the wee hours.  We should have rung each other up.  

One more meeting with the HQ visitors and hooray, we’ve got to the end of this endurance event.  The boys are with Wonder Nanny tomorrow, and then I’ll have 3 days off, which should help us all recover.  I made it home for bedtime - The Man had given both boys their tea and had them in the bath when I got in.  Son 2 had been ok at nursery, although the nursery nurses think we should give him a dummy to sort out the crying.  I have been thinking about this, although now we’ve done nearly 7  months without one I don’t want to give in.  I think little baby mouths should be making little baby noises, not chomping away on a teat.  But like I said, maybe standards have to slip.  Which reminds me.  Son 1 aged 3 and a half wouldn’t eat the frozen oven chips.

1. Getting There

2. Cutting Hair

3. Changing flights

Son 2 aged 6 m and 3w was “Distressed” on his first morning at nursery, “Unsettled” on his second, and today had reached the magnificent height of “Quiet” on the I-Want-My-Mum Richter scale.  The nursery nurses seem to be journeying along the same path; they were a lot happier with him today, and think if he keeps this up he’ll be “Getting There.”  He’d played with toys, made friends with one of them, eaten his lunch and had his reflux medicine.  And of course burst into great shaking sobs when he saw me.

Went for a haircut after work.  It is great to sit down.  The Hairdresser has two boys a couple of years older than ours, and is a wise childcare guru.  She is organised and effective and she would never have had a baby  in bed with her during the night.    I think I’ll try and sort the going-back-to-The-Office bit first and then see what I can do about getting Son 2 back in his cot.   

We have a big weekend and Monday at The Office.  I need to work tomorrow, Sunday and then probably won’t get away before the early evening on Monday.  And yet The Man booked his latest French trip for a 3.30am departure in the early hours of Monday morning.  He’s managed to change it though, after agreeing that we couldn’t really have someone who nursery don’t know, who Son 2 doesn’t know, and who’s never fed Son 2 in his life picking him up on Monday night and giving him his tea.   

1.  Happy families

2. Getting the passport off

3. Daylight running

Went back at lunchtime to feed Son 2 aged 6m and 3w.  Wonder Nanny had had a serene morning, Son 2 perfectly happy in his chair - had sleep, had lunch… Son 1 aged 3 and a half had apparently been  a little paragon.  The Man had bought a carton of mushroom soup for Wonder Nanny’s lunch.  Son 1 doesn’t eat mushrooms.  The Man and I love them.  “Offer new foods about 10 times before you can be sure your child genuinely doesn’t like them.”  We must have got to about 70 times before we finally gave up.  And yet Son 1 ate the mushroom soup.  With a technique lifted from Mumsnet:  “You are absolutely not allowed to eat that soup!  No.  Forbidden.  Don’t touch it.”  All triumphantly wolfed down.

Took the passport in for the Check and Send service.  They checked it.  They sent it.  Wheeesh, as the engines say in Thomas, it was weighing down my briefcase and I am so glad it’s gone.  Now all I have to do is the mortgage, the Child Trust Fund, the power supplier and the children’s bank accounts and I’ll have finished our paperwork.

It was daylight when I went out for my run.  Summer’s here, hooray.  I did the clear 3 miles I’ve been aiming at, at just over 10 minutes a mile.  I swear it  felt longer just because I could see where I was going.  Can’t help thinking I could have chosen a better weekend to go back to work than the clock change one.  At one end of the day I have Son 1 wondering why he’s going to bed before it’s dark , at the other end what was Son 2’s 5am let’s-try-snugging-down-and-going-back-to-sleep stirring is now getting up time.  When I was at school I used to feel sorry for the scullery maids of yore who had to get up at 6am and work till midnight.  And they got a half day a fortnight and one Sunday a month off.  Luxury.

1. Son 2 aged 6m and 3w less noisy at nursery

2. 3 sleeps in one day

3. Brian and Sophie

The nursery’s just been given a “Good” ofsted report, but lost marks for not having notes about new joiners.  So I took them 2 sides of A4 about Son 2.  Went to feed him at lunchtime and was told he’d been much better.  Still “unsettled,” but he’d had a little sleep after he arrived, then he’d played, been outside, and, thankfully, eyeballed the nursery nurse.   He was asleep when I got there, and the feeling was I should call it a day, because they were just starting to get somewhere with him.  So I let The Office know I’d be working from home  and packed both boys up. 

After we got back Son 2 had an astonishing and unprecedented 3rd sleep.  When he woke up he sat playing with his toys for well over an hour… staring over at me and making wa-ing noises when he wanted the toy changed.

Son 1 aged 3 and a half watched CBeebies till he was bored and let me switch it off, and then played with his toy animals. He likes putting them all in a row like dominos and then knocking the end one over.  The lion is called Brian, and the lioness is called Sophie.  Not that I know, of course.  I was too busy working to pay any attention to him. 

1. Back to work

2. The zoot suit

3.  The bunch of flowers

My three good things today dominated by just one.  I went back to The Office.  Got there on time, looked and sounded the part.  Left, collected children, went home.  Just got to do that another 235 times a year and this working mother bit will be sorted.  Easy.

I was able to get into only two things this morning, and one of those was the car.  The only thing that fitted was a bargain designer suit I bought last year when I was five months pregnant.  So I was a bit more formally dressed than I’d intended, but when I arrived at The Office there were two charming and cheerful men in suits from HQ there asking a lot of questions about the day-to-day running of the department.  I made my excuses and left when I felt a wet patch beginning to form on the right breast of my jacket.   

The Man sent a large bouquet to The Office to welcome me back to work.  Admittedly after a few subtle hints: ” Do you remember last time I went back you sent me a bunch of flowers at work and I really really really liked them?”  They nearly made up for the nursery nurse telling me that Son 2 aged 6 months and 2 weeks had cried all the time he hadn’t been asleep.  “It isn’t working, having a nanny one day and then having him here.  He hasn’t got time to get used to us.”  I’d like to see if things settle down over the next couple of weeks, I said.  “Well if that’s what you want.  It’s him I feel sorry for.  I just don’t like seeing him distressed.”   Have a good weekend, I said.