1.  Orienteering

2.  Endurance

3.  Deliverance

A rubbish night’s sleep. Son 1 aged 5y arrived at about 0230 and then couldn’t/wouldn’t go back to sleep. The Man, on his first night back from his Business Trip, gave up on us and de-camped to the Double Bed.   In the end, secret co-sleeping advocate that I am,  I put Son 1 back in his own bed, put the fan on, lay down with him till he went to sleep and trudged off back to the Big Bed.  I still couldn’t sleep.  I was Tetchy and Touchy in the morning. But managed a sudden and sustained Cheer Up when I got into a pair of size 14 trousers.

We went swimming at the Hotel Pool with the Wednesday Friends. The older brothers were still in school.  I forgot Son 1’s rash vest, and was uber anxious about his bright red spotty chest.  Molluscum and eczema.  Great combo.  He couldn’t have cared less. Jumped in, splashed round, dived for sea horses and swam and swam.  He did one width, and then when I wa-hayed and clapped… swam back across the other one. And turned round and swam back again to get me to do it again. A little lesson in how much he’ll do for approval.  So I put him on my back and swam across with him giggling all the way.  Son 2 was great, his fists full of toys he wouldn’t let go of.. and still managing to kick his legs like mad to keep afloat.   At one point when he was getting tired he just hung in the water, watching the others.  I used to take Son 1 to swimming classes every week, and he started swimming in armbands at around 2. And Son 2 has never had a swimming lesson, and has started swimming in armbands at… er… 2.  

We met Granny and Grandad and The Man for lunch. The boys were so tired they only just hung in there, but we made allowances and got away with it. Back home they watched telly, I slumped on the sofa. Having Son 1 back on Wednesday was a Good Thing, and it made me realise how much I miss him.  Son 2 was remarkable. Didn’t sleep in the car after swimming, didn’t sleep in the car after lunch. Didn’t sleep or lie down in the afternoon. And this was after an hour of intense exercise in the pool. By tea he was collapsed against me, picking out the brocolli from the pasta shells. But by pre-bath reading, he had six books and was still trying to get me to do a seventh. He passed out pretty quickly at bedtime, but has just, as I write this at gone 10pm, wailed and wailed and wailed for me. We left him. We are neither of us capable of walking up a flight of stairs to go and see him.

1.  Tessellation

2.  Acute Angle

3.  Fearful Symmetry

Son 1 aged 5 came in the Big Bed in the night.  Fast asleep, his little body seeks mine. Arms, legs, hands, touch,  touch, touch, snug,  snug, snug, following me around the bed.  I don’t think there’s a childcare book I haven’t read, so yes, I know I should be giving him the great gift of learning to sleep independently… but surely anyone seeing the unconscious behaviour of a small child in bed would conclude they are biologically programmed to sleep with their parents.   We of course are not biologically programmed to work ourselves into oblivion, which is why it all gets tricky. 

And which is why I get every bug going.  I still can’t speak, so I couldn’t go into The Office.  The weather was heavenly, so I decided to help my recovery by taking Son 2 aged 2y 1m to The Zoo.  He loved it. Monkeys, lemurs, ducks, deers, warthogs… “Next one! Next one!”  Lions, lynx, zebra, penguins, snakes, reptiles, frogs.  He walked and walked.  “I wan’ see lion.  I wan’ see lil farm. I wan’ see clip clop (= horses = zebras.)” After two hours I had to give up and we drove back. Son 2 fell asleep almost instantly.  I thought  a sherbert lemon from a bag my colleagues left would help my throat. The bag and the sweet wrapper crackled. ”I wan’ tweetie!” came a cry from the backseat.  At home I needed a rest. Son 2 wouldn’t lie down with me, so I went into the boys’ room, got into Son 1’s bed, and let Son 2 play with his cot and soft toys on the floor beside me.   I closed my eyes.  Something heavy smashed into my forehead so hard it nearly popped my eyeball out from the inside.  It was the lamp from on top of the headboard. Son 2, playing with the on/off switch, had pulled the flex and brought the heavy metal base down on my temple from two foot up.  The imprint is a trench in the bruise on my forehead. Being positive, at least we now know it’s dangerous. It would have cracked a little boy skull like an eggshell. “Mummy. Bump. Light. Head. Ouch.” said Son 2.

The Man collected Son 1 from School and the boys had the Sunday roast leftovers for tea. Just when I thought they’d finished and could be shooed up to bed, Son 1 reminded me that I’d said they could have jelly tot lollies for pudding. ”Ok, you can eat them outside as a special treat and we’ll read some books while we’re out there.” The evening was glorious. We sat beneath the fading sunflowers, and read Son 1’s school book. The boys gobbled the last pea pods off the plants we’d grown.  Son 1 was happy to have his bath and go to bed with Son 2. He dashed upstairs, sprinted into the bedroom and caught the side of his head full pelt against the doorpost, so fast and so hard he ricocheted off like a billiard ball.  He screamed, and cried loudly and horribly. I scooped him up, gave him a large slug of ibuprofen and made him an ice compress in a tea towel.  His left temple is grazed and bruised.  My right temple is dented and bruised.  On the same day, within three hours of each other, absolutely unrelated accidents.  How does that happen?

1.  Who Disturbs My Slumber?

2.  The Little Mermaid

3.  Chicken Run

Tired, tired, tired.  Son 1 aged 5 was trying to get into the Big Bed before midnight last night, so I took him back to his bed, got back in with him, got him back to sleep, woke up in the wee hours and headed off to the Double Bed to try and sleep. “Mummmeee!” called Son 1.  I put him back in his bed, explained I had to sleep alone or I’d be grumpy, and went off again. Not a creature was stirring and everything was still dark when Son 2 aged  2y 1m hollered for me. The Man went in. Son 2 had hysterics in disappointment. “NO! MUMMMEEEE!” The Man brought him in to me. He snugged. Son 1 padded in after. The line-up was Son 2, me, Son 1, The Man. Son 2 span round like a drill bit.  Son 1’s arms snaked out,  insistent fingers seeking my eyebrows. The Man gave up and went back to The Big Bed. In the end, I asked Son 1 to go back to his own bed. And begged Son 2 to go to sleep.  We were wakened well after 9am by the phone. Nanna ringing to find out today’s plans.  The Man and Son 1 were upstairs in the Big Bed watching Sponge Bob.  Son 1 wanted to make a spoon pirate.  “After swimming,” I said. He ignored me, and made one while he was eating his pancake.

We went to the Town Pool. Nanna sat at the side and watched. Teenaged Niece is 18 and a champion swimmer, with a Sharon Davies figure, natural blonde hair, huge baby-blue eyes,  Californian-style braces on gleaming white teeth and an unstoppable laugh.  She was dazzling.   Into the pool, laughing and splashing, came Best Friend and Best Friend’s Little Brother.  Wednesday Mum followed behind. She took one look at Teenaged Niece and said “What did you bring her for?” “Because now I know no-one will be looking at my skanky swimsuit,” I said.  Son 1 and Best Friend were overjoyed to see each other, inseparable, and high with happiness.  Son 1 hasn’t seen Best Friend since his birthday.  The fact that they’re in different schools is a secret source of regret. But they live 200 yards from the Outstanding Village School with the 16-place reception class. And we don’t.   I spent all the time with Son 2… Teenaged Niece played with the older boys, diving in, popping up and swimming under, sleek as a seal. Son 2 is also a natural swimmer, doing two widths - each time because he wanted to go somewhere else.  Plenty of jumping, playing in the bubble baths and splashing in the warm water coming out of the jets.

Back home Nanna, Teenaged Niece and the boys went upstairs to watch telly.  I made cups of tea and started on lunch. After a coffee and a little read of the paper. I went upstairs and announced I was going to sit down for five minutes. Son 2 dropped his frog bottle on the carpet and, because he’d loosened the top, it burst open, spilling what seemed like several gallons of pineapple juice. Oh I wish I’d taken it better. I made dinner, roast chicken, roast potatoes, sweetcorn, spinach, carrots and leeks. The Man came in and made onion gravy. Son 1 came down with Teenaged Niece and made another spoon pirate.  By the time the meal was ready, Son 2 could hardly stand. He managed a bit of food, but just wanted to flop on me.  Son 1 did better. After TN and Nanna had gone we rubbed our latest anti-lice goo - which we think is neat petrol - into the boys’ hair and combed through. When they were asleep  The Man and I put the petrol on our heads and checked each other.  Love is…

1.  Souvenirs

2.  Keepsakes

3.  A Lovesome Thing

Thank Heavens and Stars we didn’t have to get up for school.  Son 1 aged 5 was already in the Double Bed with us, Son 2 aged 2 roared: “I WANT MY MUMMY!” We brought him in with us, and tried to settle them both back to sleep.  “Big Poo.” Ah.  I switched the light on to change him. Son 1 reached over and switched it off again.  I took Son 2 into the bathroom.  I’d picked up two lollies on my Office trip, and had stuffed them in my vanity case.  He found them instantly. “I wan’ lollipop! I wan’ lollipop!” “No,” I said. “You can have one later.” “I wan’ lollipop!” He burst into tears. “Son 1 will go back to sleep if you keep the noise down,” called The Man. I took Son 2 downstairs. 

We had to take Granny back to the Airport, and decided we would stop off in the Big Town. Granny gave Son 1 a ten pound note, and it was smouldering in his pocket.  I needed to take back part of Son 1’s uniform - the shop had given me an aged 8 size instead of aged 5. Son 1 wanted to go to the Early Learning Centre to look at the toys.  The Man and Granny said they’d go and swap the clothes, and I could stay with the boys. “You can all go,” said Son 1. “I will look at toys and  wait for you.” “No,” said The Man. “We need someone with you to supervise.” “I have super eyes!” Son 1said. “I will look at all the toys and make sure I see everyone. I have the best eyes, don’t I Mummy?”  Son 1 chose a PIrates and Baddies spoons set, and Son 2 wanted a little farm.   How do people keep on top of toys?  We have so many we can barely all fit in The House, and The Man and I have Deep and Earnest (= Somewhat  Shouty) conversations about how The House is full of tat.   

We waved Granny off and went to Nanna’s. No-one in. I’d left my mobile at home. We climbed over various plants, spread out the car rug, got out the boys’ tuck box and a ball from the car, and settled down to read the Early Learning Centre catalogue.  Bees buzzed and big Red Admirals settled on the Michaelmas daisies. The sun shone.  The boys played with Son 2’s farm, and Son 1 whined that he wanted to make his pirates.  Son 1 needed a poo.  It was a difficult moment. All we could do was aim him at an open nappy and fold everything up into a nappy bag.  Son 2 announced he’d done a poo. We’d just used the last nappy. We’d waited an hour, but we had to go. Back home there was a message on the mobile.  Nanna and Teenaged Niece had been delayed.  I rang them and we agreed to meet tomorrow. It was good to be back in the Big Bed.

1.  Resistance

2.  Inertia

3.  Flow

On days like today I need a Positive Blog. We are, all four of us, knackered.  Son 1 aged 5 goes deaf when he’s tired.  My voice gets louder and I repeat myself, repeat myself.  Son 2 aged 2 grizzles and clings.  The Man lists faults. Out loud. We are worried about Son 2’s Godmother, who is on a drip in hospital with a kidney infection. And Granny is coming to stay for nearly a week tomorrow, so there has been some mad tidying, and a rather ill-timed attempt to Improve Your Children’s Table Manners In 24 Hours.  However. Digging deep in the day…  Son 2 wanted to lie down in Son 1’s bed. With Mummy.  He pulled the cover over his head, pressed his soft little face close to mine, and dozed off with snuffly little snores.  He had about 20 minutes’ sleep before Son 1 woke him by throwing toys around.

I got the boys’ hair cut.  After lunch, piled Son 2 into the Big Pram, ignored Son 1’s attempts to get in it, and strode off for The Town.  Son 1 whined every step of the way. He wanted to ride on the Pram. At the bottom of the hill I gave in. He stands on the axle and holds on to the handle, in a sort of makeshift buggy board stance.  I take the weight on my back and arms, and tell myself I’m burning calories.  This time he has perfected his technique.  He rested his bottom on the nappy bag so he had a seat. At the hairdressers’, Son 1 just stared, exhausted, in the mirror and didn’t bother answering any questions. He could barely keep his head upright for her. Son 2 was Perfect Child, sitting in a car in the window watching The Wiggles on their DVD.  People passing pointed and smiled. I hope because my child is so beautiful, and not because they were saying “Why doesn’t that mother just cut it herself?”  They both look great.  Son 1 misbehaved all the way back.

While we were out, The Man changed some of the water in the Fish Tank, so it looks better.  We switched on the skull and treasure chest bubbles, and Flossy and Coupon seemed to play quite happily.   We had a Fishkeeping For Beginners moment earlier.  I asked The Man to turn up the heater because the water seemed to be getting cooler - it’s meant to be 25C, and was barely 20C.  He kept turning it up. Nothing happened. And then… we… er… realised the heater wasn’t on. The water was at room temperature and was getting cooler because it’s getting cooler.  Still.  It doesn’t seem to have bothered Flossy and Coupon, who after 10 days with us are still alive and seem to be having a good time. Excellent. That means 1 in 3 members of our family has in fact enjoyed today.  I knew this Blog was a Good Thing.

1.  Sardines

2.  Flounder

3.  Shark

So. After yesterday’s triathlon, what sort of a lie in do you think our perfect children game us? 6am.  Little Baskets.  We put them in the Double Bed with us.  Son 2 aged 2 tried pestering The Man. Didn’t work. Tried pestering me. Didn’t work. Reached over me to bat at Son 1 aged 4 y 11m.  Giggles to the left.  Giggles to the right. “Sweets,” said Son 2. ”Son 2, are you hungry?” “Es.” “Do you want your breakfast?”  “Es.”  Son 2 ate nothing but peas-in-the-pod and biscuits yesterday afternoon.  They promised they’d have a sleep during the day. 

The weather was fine, the water was flat.  We knew we were for it if we stayed in.  We rang round for reinforcements for a Boat Trip.   A Wednesday Mum and her family came. We packed leftover quiche and chocolate cake.  We went to the Yacht Club. The Man brought The Boat into the quay.  We chugged around, fishing.  The Wednesday Mum had a real, live fish on the end of her line. It Got Away.  And then… she, Retired Army Captain husband and The Man started catching fish. RACH took them off the line… And he’d brought a large stone with him.  For killing the fish with a blow to the head. At first, he did it. Then, his son, Five Year Old Friend, did it. And then, Son 1.   I watched him do it.  He’s killed a living creature before he’s five. Forty years older, I still haven’t.  I can clean and gut a fish, and always enjoy meat-eaters’ squeamishness when they see my matter-of-fact technique. But I have no idea whether or not I could kill a crittur.  I just felt as Son 1 lives on The River, he should be able to catch a mackerel.  And put it out of its misery.  He walked round clutching the stone.  “Anyone want to bash a fish?”

Total catch: 10 mackerel and 21 crabs. The crabs went back in the river.  Back home, we wrapped up four fish in greaseproof paper and hung them in a bag on the neighbours’ front door. She told Son 1 that if he ever caught any mackerel, she’d buy them from him. He was heartbroken when she wasn’t in. The Man lit a barbecue, I made new potatoes and broccoli, and we barbecued the two fish we’d kept. The Man wasn’t sure, but I told him he had to eat them to Be A Good Example For The Boys. Son 1 wouldn’t. Sucked a few bits in his mouth, but that was it. Son 2 wolfed it. We had just started to suspect Son 2 may have been a fish in a previous life.  It would explain the unswerveable fascination with both fish and wah-wah.   From the way he gobbled the mackerel, he must, of course,  have been a Big Fish.

1.  Congestion

2.  Consumption

3.  Commotion

I have still got this bogging cold.  I have to hold my forehead  to stop my head exploding every time I cough - weirdie look, especially with my other hand in front of my mouth to prevent germs spraying. I am stone deaf apart from the crisp packets someone’s crinkling up in each ear, my nose is streaming, I wheeze when I breathe, my face is fat, I can’t swallow and every time I take a step in my clippy-cloppy shoes it hurts my head. But I do not have a temperature so it is Nothing Serious.   We have a Swine Flu Strategy at The Office which involves Not Going In If You Don’t Feel Well To Protect The Health Of Your Colleagues.  So I had a day of people telling me to Sod Off.    But I have Thursday and Friday off for Son 2 aged 23m’s birthday and no matter how hard I hope the work just doesn’t do itself.   And no I can’t work from home because there is a child and a Nanny there.  And God said: “Have a read of Active Conversations on Mumsnet and Stop Complaining.”  So I have. And I will.

Son 1 aged 4y 11m arrived in the Big Bed during the night. I woke at 0630 and went downstairs to make coffee, lunches, breakfasts and put a pile of work and school things together.  I got up Son 1 and Son 2 and they ate Coco Pops.  Son 1 and I set off and got to School on time. “We’ve been hearing a lot about his Fish Tank,” said the Teaching Assistant. “We’ll have to have a photo when it’s up and running.”  Son 1 sat and quietly did puzzles while we talked about him. At lunchtime I went out in search of decongestants and accidentally ended up in TK MAxx.  Stocking fillers for the boys’ brithdays. And trousers, a shirt and a red-stickered cashmere top for me.  There was a beautiful CK coat there but it was, sadly, Too Tight In The Bodice.

I picked Son 1 up and we drove home. “I need a poo,” he said, matter-of-factly, about half-way back.  “Can you wait till we get home?” “No.”  “Can you hold on till Asda?”  A loud, long farting noise came from the backseat.  We stopped in a picnic area.  He’d already peeled off his shoes and socks.  I improvised with an old FT from my briefcase and a Waitrose mag for him to stand on.   He was interminably slow dressing again and getting back in the car.  Back home he sprang inside to find The Man and Son 2 and I posted his efforts in the dog mess bin opposite. i bathed Son 2; he stayed downstairs with The Man working on the Fish Tank. Then I read him Tabby McTat - the new Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler book which we’ve bought Son 2 for Friday. “Do you think he’ll like it?” I asked Son 1. “It’s a bit more complicated than the others.” “He’ll love it,” he said.   When i finally came down after putting them both to bed, the Fish Tank had water in it, the light was on and bubbles were floating about.  We were right. It is going to be good for our stress.

1,  Chest Flies

2.  Lord Of The Flies

3.  No Flies

We didn’t get the boys to bed till 9pm last night, so we felt we deserved a lie in this morning. Nah.  The only impact was no little visitor clambering into bed with us during the night.  The Man got up at about 7 and went downstairs… Son 2 aged 23m wailed, I heard Son 1 aged 4y 11m chatter… and that was it. I rested for as long as I felt I could get away with it.  “I don’t understand why my cold’s gone in three days and yours is still going on and on and on,” said The Man. “Because if you’re exhausted your immune system doesn’t work as well.” “Well why don’t you check into rehab or something?”  Not Just My Husband, My Very Best Friend.

The Man wanted to drill holes for the fish tank power. The boys and I took Nanna’s giant stone mushroom to her house - two months after her birthday. We picked her up and then went to the Garden Centre. The idea was that each boy would choose a toy for the fish tank, to be given as a present on their birthdays. Son 1 couldn’t care less about anything I showed him: one-hole two-hole three-hole rocks, hippos with mouths that opened by bubbles, pieces of wood. He only wanted a bag of shells. He said if I bought them for him he would behave for the rest of his life.  It seemed like a good deal. Son 2 got a red ray, and I chose a lump of wood for Son 1. Away from the fish tank, it looked as if it would fit. Back home it clearly won’t.  Might have to saw a bit off.

We walked down through the town to meet Nanna for lunch.  The Man strode off with Son 2 in the Big Pram, Son 1 and I took longer. In the cafe Son 1 wanted pizza. I turned to Son 2.  “What would you like?” “Cips.” Not 2 years old and he can order in restaurants.  I didn’t go into a cafe till I was 14 years old.  The kitchen messed the order up so we had two small, tired, over-hungry boys melting down.  Looking on the bright side, they could have been a lot worse.  After we went to the discount shop, where I bought them each a Playmobil toy with money Nanna gave them for a birthday stocking-filler. Son 1 studied each box on the way home. “Son 2’s is better than mine!” he decided.  Son 2’s cost a pound more.

1.  Under The Weather

2.  Under Surveillance

3.  Under Pressure

Son 2 aged 23m’s dramatic, croupy cough rattled out after we’d gone to bed. I couldn’t see how Son 1 aged 4y 11m could sleep through it, so way past midnight, I sent The Man downstairs into the Double Bed, scooped Son 2 up from his cot and took him up into the Big Bed with me.  Mummy Serotonin makes them get better quicker.  The idea of sleeping with Son 2 is always lovely.  I agonise over him snugging himself up in his sleeping bag in his cot - I’m sure Son 1 was in with us most nights at that age. So I dream about Son 2 and I cuddling, dozing, drowsing, in tune with each other’s sleep cycles. In reality? Even ill and exhausted, he’s always up for a party.  PUshing and towing pillows off the sides of the bed.  Feeling for nose and ear holes and sticking fingers in them. And endlessly, endlessly, turning over, crawling, pulling the quilt up, kicking the quilt off… Until: “Son 2!  If you don’t lie down and go to sleep I am going to put you back in your cot and leave you there!”  He laid his little fluffy head on the pillow and went straight to sleep. 

We’d planned lunch with Nanna.  She said she’d brave our colds, so we decided on the Big Town.  We arrived, parked, and went to TK Maxx to look for shoes for the boys. Nanna was left in charge of Son 2 in the toy section.  The Man was with Son 1 in Children’s Shoes.  There was an argument about a grey pair. “He won’t try them on,” said The Man. “I don’t like them.” “Why not?” “I want bright shoes.”  It’s TK Maxx. Their entire business plan provides leftover pairs of orange shoes for little boys like Son 1.  We got him sorted, and I looked up to see Nanna walking out of the open double door and then back in again. “Where’s Son 2?” I asked. “I’ve lost him.” She continued to look round clothes racks. “Where?” “He just ran off!”  I looked for The Man. “I’ve seen him!”  He strode off halfway across the shop.  Son 2 nearly made it back to the escalator.   We got the reins out.    The boys were heavenly at lunch.

On the way back we stopped off at fish tank shops.  The Man is looking at tanks the size of Swan Vesta matchboxes. I am looking at tanks you could pickle cows in.  This is supposed to be a joint birthday present… we have less than a fortnight before Son 2’s big day.  It took us 17 years to decide to have children.  We have asked Son 1 if he’d rather have a rabbit.

1.  The Gates Of Dawn

2.  Dulce Domum

3.  Wayfarers All

I am really not well.  Weak as a kitten, hurting head full of snot, racking cough, sore chest, sore throat and ears that crack horribly everytime I swallow. I could prove it was swine flu if I could be bothered to look for our thermometer.   In the meantime I’ll assume it’s just the cold I get every time I take any leave. It’s not helped by a lack of sleep. I went out last night to our book club, and got to bed about midnight. Then I woke at 5am, my head thumping. Son 1 aged 4y 11m arrived.  I tried to get him back to sleep, and at 6am crept downstairs to make a vast pot of coffee - I’m a keen believer in caffeine for colds.  It wasn’t quite dawn, so I took my coffee to sit in the bay window and watch the sun come up over the river.  A shadow flitted in. Son 1.  We put cushions on the window seat, and hauled one of Nanna’s big blankets over ourselves to keep warm.  Camping. Son 1 loved it and snuggled up to me. We watched vans and cars drive by.  We watched the sky lighten.  “I’m bored with camping,” said Son 1 after 15 minutes.

The Man’s sunflower is now the largest, and Son 1 and I have claimed it as Ours. A yellow flower has today started to appear.  Son 1 and Wonder Nanny played pirates. Son 2 aged 23m and I went outside. He wanted to play with Wah Wah, so I put him in his swimsuit, boiled a kettle, squeezed in some washing up liquid and warmed up the rainwater for him.  I went and got myself a garden cushion so I could sit and watch him. “More,” said Son 2, trotting off to bring out all the others, one by one.  As soon as Son 1 saw the bubbles he was out there too.  Adding compost to make a potion.  The parcel for the Scooby party arrived, and Son 1 was almost sick with excitement. Wonder Nanny made minestrone soup.  We had lunch. Son 2 and I went for a sleep. 

We woke up at 3pm, and an old friend was downstairs with Wonder Nanny and Son 1.  Just on Wednesday i was looking back to Breastfeeding Group nearly five years ago, at the July baby, the September baby and the October baby. There was also an August baby, the little girl, just five, playing with Son 1, whom we haven’t seen for nearly a year.  The Man came back from The Boat and we went crabbing.  Son 2 demanded I take him to the riverside beach just as the others hauled in crab 14 to break our record. Another family joined the others, but Son 2 and I walked round to the low tide beach.  It’s covered in broken glass.  “Son 2 just pick up the shells or the stones NOT THE GLASS.”  Son 2 kept picking up the glass. The water’s edge was glass free, so I took him there,  me keeping his reins on, him with his dungarees rolled up. Son 1 joined us, but ran in the sea with his trousers on “Take them OFF! Look, you hold Son 2’s reins and I’ll help you.”  I pulled off his trousers. I turned round. He’d let go Son 2’s reins and Son 2 had strode out into the river, standing hip-high in the water,  looking back at me.   Son 1 danced in the water, naked from the waist down.  His five year old friend gazed longingly after him. “Son 1 come back! It’s not fair on Son 2 or Your Friend!”  I promised him we would come back in our swimming costumes one day and both go in. At bedtime he was so tired he lay in his bed while I was singing to Son 2. When I’d finished Son 2’s night-nights, Son 1 was fast asleep.