1.  Fast Forward

2.  Scene Selection

3.   Pause

The Man is back, The Plumber has been, the hot water is back on, and I have had a shower.   Son 1 aged 4y 8m slept in, Son 2 aged 21m woke up and came down into the kitchen with The Man and me.  He ate blueberries and banana.  He sat at the little ELC plastic table colouring one of Son 1’s drawings.  He’s left-handed two out of three times.  The Man is left-handed, so is Granny and the Elegant Aunt.  I wonder when it settles.  Son 2 has learnt to run. The child who never stays on the floor if he can climb, cannot pass an open door without darting through it and can tank off for hundreds of yards without a backward glance can now do it all a lot faster.  Hooray.  “Daddy, you should see Son 2 run,” I said. “He’s very good at it.” Son 2 stood, a big smile on his face, and ran up and down the kitchen, overjoyed.  And then started doing little jumping attempts - stopping, swinging his arms up, springing - without yet leaving the ground. It wouldn’t surprise me if he is trying to take off. 

I took Son 1 to Nursery. Sports Day, postponed from last week in the rain. Last week I could have managed, this week I had to drive over to The City.  Son 1 fell over badly yesterday. He was given a jelly teddy sweet and came home with black and red knees.  Son 1 has a weirdie hip thing which means he can’t run fast because his legs flay out sideways.   fr http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2008/12/01/faster-legs/  His Wednesday Friends are always tearing off without him.  “I am going to run very fast,” he proclaimed as we got out of the car. “Well if you don’t run fast today, don’t forget that you fell over so you have sore knees,” I said, over-protective Mother trying to shield her child from the harsh truth of losing. In he went, off I drove.

When I got back they were watching their new Wiggles DVD (we are going to see them tomorrow.) Son 1 had run in three races. The potato race - pick a potato in your bucket, take it back, run up for the next one… the egg and spoon one “I think someone put oil on my egg because it wouldn’t stay on the spoon.” And a straight running race. Which he won. “X was winning but I runned past him.” Ah. OK. I will be less fast. To write him off.  On the camera were some pictures of Son 2 in the under-threes race. Smiling. Sun-hatted.  Clearly loving it.  With Wonder Nanny.  Pang.  Maybe, just maybe, not every other woman helping a small child in that race was the mother…

1.  Order, Order

2.  Brains And Brawn

3.  Root A Toot

A good night.   A day off. A slow start. Son 1 aged 4y and 6m wanted me to read Mr Men books to him.  He and The Man seemed to think he was banned from telly this morning.  He wasn’t.  But I wasn’t going to let on.  We were still in our pyjamas when Wonder Nanny arrived.  She is very impressed with The Man’s new coat hooks and shelves in the hall, and with the new shelves in Son 2 aged 18m’s room.   There are no longer piles of about 100 books on the floor in Son 1’s room.  I never minded, I thought it added a certain don-ish quality to the place.  But apparently it was Not Normal.   Always, the people who can’t see mess are married to people who see mess when it isn’t there.   For the same reasons bees can’t fly.  

We went to the Bird Park.  We all love it, and I wanted to go places before the schools break up.  “Shall we have a little play and then have some lunch and then see the animals?” said Son 1.  That’s what we always do.  The dear mite and his love of routine again.  (As I often say about The Man.)  Son 2 can go down the baby slide sitting up now.  Son 2 picks up his own mat for the Big Slide.  Son 2 climbs up slopes, climbs up stairs, totters through, tried to get over… anything Son 1 does.  Son 1 is not a fan of Big Slides, but loves doing circuits including a smaller slide, and loved us all doing it together.  I am so glad Son 2 is such a little bruiser.  I always used to think Son 1’s physical caution was related to me being too over-protective.  Along came Son 2, and with one bound Mummy is free…

After lunch Son 2 was fainting with tiredness, so we put him in the Big Pram and wheeled him round to the birds.  He lasted as far as the otters before demanding to get out again. And then he walked down to the farm, hoo-hooing at owls, squawking at parrots and saying “Bye bye” to the cockatoos.  We fed goats and sheep, and sang Baa Baa Black Sheep to the black sheep with the black tongue. Son 2 baa-ed at them.  I put him back in the pram and he finally nodded off.   Son 1 prowled and ran round to the penguins.  Sat demurely on the wall. Got picked to feed them.  On the way back we stopped off at a big M and S looking for shoes.  We finally found a pair of flashing trainers that fit. Not quite what I wanted, but Son 1 is happy.

1.  Climbing

2.  Pining

3.  Shining

Better.  Both Son 1 aged 4y 5m and Son 2 aged 18m slept through, apart from one screaming session from Son 1.  The Man went down, but that was a genuine sitting-bolt-upright-in-bed-still-asleep night terror, as opposed to imperious yelling for Mummy because you’ve been banned from going upstairs into her bed.  The Man left early on a Business Trip.  Son 1 wailed.   I washed up some breakfast things and turned round to see Son 2 climbing up on to the kitchen table from a dining chair.  He stood up, smiled, and reached for the light.

There were some Office things I needed to do at home today. I’d planned it carefully, picking the day that was reasonably clear and picking Tuesday, because Son 1doesn’t go to Nursery so I had no need to drive.  Only the boys didn’t quite see it like that.  Son 2 clung.  Son 1 was deliquent.  At the point where he gripped Son 2’s shoulders from behind and shook him,  I sent him to bed.  Wonder Nanny removed them for the day to a Garden with a playground.  I cannot remember the last time I was in the house on my own. 

At lunchtime I went for a run.  For only the second time in about a month.  Blue, clear skies, bright sunshine, a chilly breeze.  Down to the Bridge Over The River and back.  I was in shorts, and it was lovely being out in great weather in daylight.  I ran the full three miles, and I haven’t seized up, and I don’t think I’ve pulled anything.  The nervous systems check of someone who’s been injured running in the past.   I found one prob…my dodgy arthritic ankle is very puffed up.  I will go back on the Glucosamine so I feel like I’m a proper runner again.

1.   Larks

2.   Wild Mutt

3.   Penguins

Another disturbed night - Son 1 aged 4y 3m this time, arriving in the Big Bed, kicking The Man out and keeping me awake for 2 hours.  It is wonderful being so loved by a small boy who wants only to snug up, cuddle and stroke my eyebrows, but he heat-seeks and then pummels, wriggles, tugs and grabs to position his Parent for maximum comfort.  He does it all while he’s stone asleep.  And I am not.  Another late start.  I wanted a Family Day Out.  Just the four of us, after 10 days of friends and family.  The Man was keen on a beach, away from freezing blasts of wind.  Or leaving just enough for a kite.   Son 1 didn’t want to go to the beach.  “Why not?” “Because I have to wash my hair when I go to the beach.”  “Only when you have sand fights.  Where do you want to go?” “To the Bird Park.”  A comedy half hour followed, in which The Man tried to persuade him to go to The Beach.

We went to the Bird Park.  Son 2 aged 15m played in the Ball Pool and toddler zone.  He loved sitting on the air jets, his breath blown away, his wispy fringe vertical, throwing balls overboard.  He flopped in the balls, he switched the jets on.  He followed Son 1 around the Under-5 climbing area, laughing as we sent him down the slide, happy and determined to copy his brother.  Son 1 was Wild Mutt, growling.  And Upgrade.  And Four Arms (I misread that one on the Top Trumps cards.   I thought it said Four Bums.)  The Man took him off round the more advanced gear.  We swapped boys and I chased Son 1 and he chased me.  I climbed and slid and scrambled and clambered.  “Animal Box time,” said Son 1, and at last I got a coffee.

After lunch we played again.  When it was time to move on I asked Son 2 “Would you like to go and see the birds and animals?” and he resolutely toddled off towards his Pram.  “There are owls and parrots and penguins and otters,” I said. “What would you like to see?” ”Raaaargggh,” he said.  Ah.  No lions here, Oh Dear.   We have had three misses in a row at the Penguin Pond.  Small children are allowed to feed the penguins.  Son 1 had a whole bucket of fish to himself one gloomy termtime afternoon when he was 2.  Recently however we’ve lucked out. First, we went in school holidays and there were too many children and Son 1 didn’t get picked.  Then they were cleaning the pool and not doing public feeding.  Then I muddled up the times, and we got there too late.  This time Son 1 got picked and excitedly took off his coat and got on with his task.  Except when I made him stop so I could take pictures.  Which was quite often.

1.   Dawn Presence

2.   Perfect Presents

3.   Present Tense

The Man was away overnight.  I woke at 0615, aware of a presence, a pitter-patter of footsteps, the light touch of hands feeling for me in the dark and a whispered: “Mummy I want a wee.”  “Ok-don’t-worry-I’ll-put-a-light-on.” “It’s coming. Now.”  “Okay-okay-okay.”  We sorted him out, and then Son 1 aged 4y 2m climbed into bed. The idea was that we would cuddle in the cold and have a little snooze.  He didn’t stop talking.  We went downstairs for snacks and drinks, and then heard Son 2 aged 15 m wailing.  “Go upstairs and look after him while I bring the tray up.” Up he went.  Son 2 stopped crying.  When I got up Son 1 had put the lights on, put a balloon in his brother’s cot and was bouncing on the bed to entertain him.  A natural.  I might get him to babysit.

I Christmas-ed shopped at lunchtime.  Nanna is going to see The Family on Saturday, so my meagre pile of presents needed boosting.  And Nanna is going on the train, so the presents must be no weight.  She wanted make-up, which I think is quite cool as she is a lady of a certain age.  I only really managed to get hers, but I was pleased with it.  I looked everywhere for light presents suitable for The Brother and The Godfather.  Socks. Belts. Hankies.  Stuff it we’ll have to pay for lunch next time they visit. Teenaged Niece and Nephew are going to have money, which is all they want anyway.  And then I bought two more books for Son 1.  I had a long, long look for stocking fillers for Son 2.  I really am finding him very hard.  He’s got an ambulance Son 1 picked for his birthday that he likes, but other than it’s remote controls, computers, wires, phones and stairs.  And books. He likes books.  His latest trick is climbing up on the piles in Son 1’s room and surfing down on the top book, but he does like looking at them as well.

The Man came back from his Business Trip, which was a third Good Thing.   He had the shower on for Son 1 when I came up the stairs, which meant he didn’t hear Son 2 screaming because he’d caught his little baby fingers in a cupboard door.  I keep thinking I should just let Son 2 learn the hard way not to play with doors … but then I flash forward to the interview in the Guardian: “I lost the use of my right hand when I was a year old and my fingers got flower-pressed in the door hinge.”  We did the whole of Son 1’s babyhood with just two stair gates, so we still don’t quite believe the way Son 2 climbs on the the things we put down to stop him climbing.  We’re sure that his accepting, biddable side will emerge in a few more weeks.