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.  Coffee

2.  Church

3.  Presents

Son 1 aged 4y 3m longs for Christmas.  His tummy hurts.  He is excited.  Santa is coming tonight.  We have a deal that he can open his stocking and the big present under the tree he has his eye on - which he thinks is the Abyss underwater set but isn’t - and then he has to wait till Granny and Granddad get here.  He is also worn out.  Why are my children always so tired?  It can’t be anything to do with their five-hours-sleep-a-night full-time-working Christmas-Eve-but-I’ll-just-bash-a-blog out mother.  The Man went off to Marks for supplies with Son 2 aged 15m at about 9.  I prised Son 1 away from the telly and we met them, and Granny and Granddad for coffee.  Son 1 misbehaved, tired and excited.  Son 2, uncharacteristically, fell asleep in the Big Pram.

I took them to church.  The vicar wrote us a letter for a C of E school saying we attend from time to time, and I don’t want him to go to hell for lying.  We met some Wednesday friends there.  Son 1 and Older Brother tore up and down the aisles, played with the toys at the back and chattered, oblivious to proceedings.  Son 2 picked, uninterested, at the greenery arrangements.  In the middle of the reading Son 1 proclaimed “I need a poo,” and off we set, round pews, through doors, over concrete flooring, through an office, via a robing room (oops, that’s not it then) to the Tiny Loo.  We took Monday’s Birthday Boy with us.   Four of us couldn’t fit in, so we held the door open.  Birthday Boy is known for roaming, and wanted his Mummy.  Son 2 is unstoppable.  Son 1 took forever.  A flight of stairs plunged downwards yards from our nook.  After 10 years the Other Mother arrived, having only just realised I was three-up and out of control.  “This service isn’t very long,” I thought, as we warbled “Away in a Manger” to finish.  Then I realised we’d been waiting for Son 1 for about 20  minutes.

Son 1 put out a mince pie, a sherry and two gold chocolate coins for Santa, and a carrot and milk for the reindeer.  He was allowed to eat a chocolate coin to make sure they were good enough for Santa.  Then he decided to leave only one chocolate coin for Santa, and to put the other one back in his Trick or Treat bucket.  We decided he could leave two small ones out for Santa, but he could eat the big one.   Both boys were asleep at 7pm.  Who’s SuperMummy?  Granny and Granddad babysat, and we went round to our friends’.  We were supposed to be staying for one and then going to the pub, but they had crisps, and champagne, and an open fire, and we were talking and drinking and drinking and talking and then we had to go because G and G don’t really do Late.  Back home I put chocolate decorations on the tree, gold coins in the treasure chest and filled the stockings (not enough stocking fillers, where’s open at midnight on Christmas Eve?) while The Man heaved bags of presents down the stairs and piled them under the tree.  I need to get up at 6am to see to the turkey.  I can’t wait for the morning to come.

1.  December Sunshine

2.  Decorations

3.  Marvellous Him

We went to The Beach.  Sheltered from the bitter prevailing wind, it was paradise.  Cold, but spectacular.  Blue sky, blue sea, bright sunshine and crisp fresh air.  We shared it only with about 20 dog owners and their hounds.  And a couple of old ladies in swimsuits and hats having a dip in the sea.  Our party numbered four mothers, six boys aged 4 and under, one girl aged 18m and one old sloppy dog.  The other dogs stayed down by the water (for a change.)  The boys stayed up on the sand (for a change.)  The sloppy dog didn’t try and hump any of the other dogs (for a change.)  And the mad woman with the spaniel who beat the sloppy dog when it tried to hump her dog wasn’t there.  So many Good Things.  Son 1 aged 4y 2m was exhausted, and fell out with his best friend.   Son 2 aged 14m slept for about 20 minutes and was then woken up by boys yelling.  They were not at their best.  I packed up to go and Son 1 played on a wooden table top.  And then slid off, head-first, stuck, upside down, legs on the table, face wedged on the bench.

Son 2 roared, Son 1 whinged. I got them home and fed them lunch.  Er… at quarter to three.  See previous comments about how well they behave for Wonder Nanny, who has never been known to wing a meal.  The Man came back and took Son 1 out to get a Christmas Tree.  I put a reluctant, over-tired, Very Loud Indeed Son 2 to sleep.   A tree arrived, together with a blitheringly excited Son 1.  “We can’t go in the loft for the decorations while Son 2 is asleep.  We’ll wake him up.”  Son 1 has never seen any reason to mind if Son 2 is awake.  This has been the root of a great deal of tension between him and us over the last 14m.  We went in the loft for the decorations.  Son 2 woke up.  Nanna came round.  The tree was decorated.  The little boys were entranced.    

And through it all,  Son 2 walked.  Ten and twelve steps at a time.  Backwards and forwards in the kitchen, wearing his Marvellous Me expression.  Wobbling round the beds upstairs.  To the washing machine.  On the beach, just a little bit, to show everyone what he could do.  And then afterwards he needed a finger to hold on to.  This is obviously confidence-gathering time.  But he walked for Nanna, he walked for The Man and he walked for Son 1.    He cuddled Son 1 before they went to bed, he fell asleep almost straight away, and he’s (so far) stayed asleep.  Mmmm.  Is it possible that this Walking Thing might sort out the Sleep Problems?