1.  Stirrings

2.  Back to School

3.  Sprint Finish

It was hell getting Son 2 aged 13m down in the cot last night - took more than half an hour - but he stayed in till nearly 6am, which I am counting as a second night sleeping through.  If he makes it tonight I will start seeing if I can put him down in the cot, rather than leaving him lying on a double bed with pillows either side.  He was hungry and he was thirsty.  A clear, definite “Na na” Which he ate in less than five minutes once we were downstairs.  He was brilliant for his books this morning, sitting still for The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Well most of it.  As soon as the pages you can stick your fingers in had gone, he was off.  His favourite is still the animals book.  He can now fling his arm up for the elephant, make fish mouth noises and roar like a lion.  There is a little confusion between the noises for a duck’s quack quack and a crocodile’s snap-snap but it’s easily done.  He is also definitely yeh yeh ing, and nnnnnn ing. And Ma Ma has returned, but with considerably more “SORT ME OUT NOW” welly.

We were a bit worried about Son 1 aged 4 y 1m going back to Nursery, because with his two-week half term and his ear infection it’s been three weeks.  He was ok.  He made me park way up the entrance road, and we arrived just as the children were sitting down for the register.  He plonked himself down on the floor and gazed up at the teacher as if I wasn’t there.  Wonder Nanny picked him up and said the teacher had said he’d been very tired in the afternoon.  Again, it’s the playground.  Too noisy.   

Other good things: my computer came back from the mender’s, which will make The Office a bit easier, because I can work in the evenings again, hooray hooray.  We have a number for a chiropodist for The Man’s sore feet.   Wonder Nanny has sent off the registration form for Ofsted.  We’ve accepted a party invitation for Son 1.  “That’s good news, isn’t it Mummy?”  He’s getting the hang of this.  And Son 2 stole the show.  As he was exhausted, I held him under his armpits to let him practise walking - one of his favourite things, and I thought if he did his usual hold-on-to-my-fingers-walk he’d stumble and get fed up.  When he felt the extra support he just sprinted.  Up and down the kitchen like Forest Gump, with me having to do a running, bent-over waddle to keep up with him.  He chortled and squealed and laughed and laughed.  So did Son 1.  I knew we were in for it when he finally walks… it never occurred to me that it will in fact be much worse when he can RUUUUUUUUUUNNNNN.

1.  Hothead

2.  The Mouse

3.  The Squid

The middle of the night.  Many times.  Son 1 aged 4 cried in arpeggios, getting louder and higher with each one.  I stood in the bedroom door hissing at him: “Go to sleep.  Mummy isn’t coming in with you.  You’re being selfish and naughty.”  I went into him.   He was burning up. I gave him a yard of ibuprofen.  Back in with Son 2 aged 13m, whom I’ve not been able to get into the cot at all since his two-hour evening fight against sleep.  Son 2 whinged me awake at 0630.  Son 1 cried, said his ear hurt, didn’t want to go to Nursery, wouldn’t eat breakfast.  “You’ve only got to do today and tomorrow.  And you’ve got swimming today and tomorrow.  And then you’re coming back after lunch tomorrow for  X’s party. And then you’ve got two weeks off and Mummy’s off next week.”  Off we went to Nursery.

They rang at 10.  Son 1 was pale, crying, saying his ear hurt, really not himself.  Can I come and get him.  I rang the doctor.  No-one could see him.  Bring him to a nurse at 1440, and she can see if he needs a doctor. He was asleep on some cushions in the little library corner when I got there.   I took him back to The Office, as I had a meeting I couldn’t avoid.  There was a birthday, and he helped himself to a huge doughnut.  The Office receptionist looked after him. When I came back he was sitting on her knee playing games on the CBeebies website. Which he’d told her about.  He printed off some colouring pictures at my desk.  I didn’t even know he could use a mouse  -  I’ve deliberately kept him away from computers

The Nurse said she wasn’t qualified to look in his ear.  She did anyway, and said it was a bit pink.  She put him on the Duty Doctor’s list for him to call us.  At home Son 2 had a Mr Bump plaster on his thumb.  Older Mother Thing: I don’t think I can see well enough to cut Son 2’s fingernails.  Plus I hate it. It’s like trying to trim the tentacle ends on a very small, very strong, very wriggly squid.  I asked Wonder Nanny to do it.  A little snip on the end of his thumb.  Unfair to blog it.  An east-facing house can get very dark on gloomy days.  And in a lap, on a nappy mat, or on a bed,  Son 2 whirls round like a drill bit.  We got a few spaghetti hoops inside Son 1, whilst all the time Son 2 tried to grab his food.  I did the baths.  The Duty Doctor didn’t ring.  The Man came home.  He is not useless, Carasmum, he is just easily tired.