1.  Off Colour

2.  Off Day

3.  Off Switch

The Man left ridiculously early on a Business Trip.  I was up at 6am, to tidy up, get the lunches, sort out the clothes, chop chop busy busy work work bang bang. The boys slept and slept.  Oh for them to lie in their comas on a day when I can sleep in as well. I showered and did my hair and make up. Still no sign of life.  I woke Son 2 aged 21 m and did his reading with him.  I woke Son 1 aged 4y 8m. He flopped on to the double bed in Son 2’s room.  Son 1 has a cough, his throat sounds sore and he was clearly exhausted. Wonder Nanny arrived and we got him in his uniform. We said our goodbyes and off I drove. I looked at him in the rearview mirror. He was flopped in his car seat, his head propped by the side rest, his eyes glazed and staring.  I spun round and took him home. 

I too am blatted by the lurgy, and had a wretched day at The Office.  Being positive, I saw a colleague on maternity leave who’s returned one of Son 1’s potties for Son 2 to try.  But throughout the day I got more fluey, and I really shouldn’t be driving.  Just little things go, like my ability to judge speed and distance. After work I took about 4 goes to reverse park the car outside the house. I looked up and Wonder Nanny, Son 1 and Son 2 were sitting in the window clapping and laughing. Wonder Nanny said they’d been fine, they’d both had a sleep, she’d kept them calpol-d up and they’d had a quiet day. She left. 

And they sprouted horns.  I was feeling dog rough.  i put Son 2 in his cot, sang him his lullabies, did my usual Night Night with my hand on him, left to go into Son 1 and hell was unleashed. He cried and screamed. “Mummeee! Mummmmeee! Mummmeee!” It went on and on and on. One of those Oh-God-I-Should-Have-Gone-To-Him-Earlier-But-I-Can’t-Now-Because-He’ll-Just-Scream-Forever-Next-Time horrors.  All through Son 1’s stories. When it finally stopped, I tiptoed in to check him. And he was still awake, lying exhausted on the pillow. As soon as he saw me he started again. I gave him milk, held him, put him down, stroked him, kissed him, said Good Night and left. “Mummmeeee!”  I got down from Son 1 at 20 to 8.  By 8 he was already downstairs again, crawling around under the washing.  “Come child, you have delighted us enough,” I said, serenely.  All right then.  Cold-ridden, tired, pissed off, I snapped. “Bugger off Son 1, this is Mummy Time.” He burst into tears and scampered upstairs. I ate, worked and rang a colleague from The Office. And again, down came a little ghostie. ”I couldn’t hear you and I was worried sick about you.” I put a fleece on him, gave him a hot chocolate and let him sit there and watch the mundanity of my late evening world of housework.  “Can I wee in the potty?” he asked.  “No,” I said, 17 times. “Why?” “Because I can’t be bothered to clean it out.”  He went for a wee. He did it in the potty. He tried to empty it himself.  I cleared up the wee from the loo seat, the side of the loo, the loo floor and washed the potty out.

1.  The Planning

2.  The Party

3.  The Power

Son 1 aged 4y 5m slid into bed in the night.  Son 2 aged 18m woke early and cried.  The Man went down to him to try to get him back to sleep.  ”Mama!” cried Son 2.  I was undone and got up. He wasn’t well.  Temperature, snotty, dry cough.  He felt wretched. He flopped. He clung. He cried.  I tookhim downstairs and it took Ibuprofen, Calpol, milk, raisins and a yoghurt to cheer him up.  Son 1 woke up “Is it my special day?”  In January, I made the mistake of telling Son 1 that when he and Son 2 were older, instead of having one joint party to celebrate their birthdays in September, we would probably start having a party in Spring as well.  From that moment onwards he scouted venues like a bride-to-be. “Shall I choose here for my Spring Party?” We chose the Bird Park.  

The first Good Thing was that The Bird Park was expecting us.  They were supposed to ring this week to confirm… they didn’t, and I didn’t have time to check.  The weather was fab, the boys slept in the car on the way, we pulled into the car park and remembered we’d left the Ben 10 cake at home, half an hour’s drive away.  I had steered Son 1 away from the idea of balloons, party bags, a bouncy castle and presents, but I had promised a cake with candles.  The Man tore off in search of another.  The guests arrived, the children played.  Son 2 stood on the airjets in the Ball Pool, his teeshirt and long fringe blowing upwards. The hair on the top of his head was glued down with Bio Oil and didn’t move.  (I have been reading Mumsnet Talk cures for cradle cap.)  We had 12 Boys and 1 Girl.  The Girl (aged 3) wanted to look after Son 2.  We went on the Big Slide.  Son 2 loved it, and pointed back up. “Again?” I asked.  Mad nodding.  The Girl was a revelation.  She picked up a mat and handed it to me, smoothed our our mat at the top of the slide before Son 2 and I got on it, and checked we were all right at the end.  She picked up litter.  She waited for us.  An amazing insight into another world.

Lunch was wolfed.  Ice cream and chocolate cake also.  Son 1 went back to play.  I had a coffee and Son 2 was looked after outside on the balcony by The Man.  We went out to the animals.  The selection is red pandas, otters, owls, parrots, cockatoos, macaus, hornbills, rabbits, guinea pigs, sheep, goats… Son 2 stood and stared at the little dump truck re-building the outdoor playground. “Dum Dum Dum” he said.  “Di Di Di” he said at the diggers.  Just as I wondered what we’ll have in common when he’s older, he hoo hoo-ed at the owls. Down by the goats, he wouldn’t let Little Girl hold his reins.  Son 2 doesn’t realise the reins are to stop him running off.  He thinks they’re to keep Mummy close while he explores. We charged to the penguins for feeding time.  Packed, three deep.  I lifted Son 1 over the top and he was picked to feed them.  He was wearing a bright red Power Ranger outfit.  Best Friend didn’t even get near and was sobbing.  I promised him we would come back on a quiet day and I would make sure he was picked.  Goody, hooray.  I love the Bird Park.

1.  A Suitable Boy

2.  The Wake Up Call

3.  Homecoming

Yesterday, before I left, for my overnight trip, a colleague was telling me about her student daughter.  She has chucked the Very Suitable Boyfriend.  The New Boyfriend is 11 years older.  His band is called ******.  Their single is called ****.  He wears a pink leotard.  The Very Suitable Boyfriend keeps ringing my colleague to give her updates on the Unsuitability of the New Boyfriend.  My colleague is “letting them get on with it.”

I drove through the rain to The Big City.  I met colleagues I hadn’t seen since before Son 1 aged 4y 4m was born.  It was great to see them, and I’m pleased I went.  I stayed in a hotel, looking forward to my lie in, missing Son 1 and Son 2 aged 16m, but looking forward to my morning off.  The phone rang, extraordinarily loudly, at 0530.  I couldn’t work out what it was.  It stopped. It started again.  Amazingly loud.  I picked it up and put it down to stop the noise.  And lay, wide awake, pondering the chances of an alarm call coming to the wrong room and disturbing me on my second morning ever sans enfants.  I told my story to my colleagues over breakfast.  Great news.  I am not the World’s Most Unlucky Mother. It was the fire alarm.  

A colleague told me about a mutual acquaintance who, when I last saw him, was going through the process of adopting his last child.  She is now 4, and a delight to the family.  When she was 2, they had a phone call from social services.  The birth mother had had another child, a girl, with a number of serious health problems.  The family could be considered first.  For a number of reasons, they’d had to say no.   I thanked my lucky stars, counted my blessings and there-but-for-the-graced.  To go through their journey, and then to have to make a decision like that on a bolt from the blue… I just about made it back for bedtime.  The Man has Flu.  Son 1 has a horrible croupy cough.  Son 2 has a cough, not quite so horrible, but with definite potential.  Son 1 has a huge scratch on his cheek: “It was Son 2!”  They were madly excited as I came up the stairs.  They are too wonderful to be left.

1.  A lie-in

2. Flesh and blood

3. Captain Hook

The good news is I got a lie in this morning because Son 2 aged 11m didn’t wake up till 8am.   However.  He slept in because he was up for HOURS.  He’s got Son 1 aged 3y 11m’s cough.  He doesn’t seem to have the fever, but he’s still very uncomfortable. I wish I could be a bit more forgiving at 4am when I’ve been up since 6am the previous day.  But I kissed him, dumped in his cot, said bye bye, closed the door so I couldn’t hear the ROOAARR and went downstairs.  I made a cup of tea, wrote some birthday cards, copied out Son 1’s New Nursery dates onto the calendar, hung out some washing, drank my tea, went back upstairs… And he’d stopped crying and gone to sleep.  

I fed Son 2 while Son 1 hopped up and down, trying to cuddle his brother, trying to get on my knee, trying to do anything to get attention.  “Why don’t you tell daddy not to empty the dishwasher till he’s brought my coffee up?”  I suggested, helpfully, thinking that would send him padding down 2 flights of stairs.  Son 1 walked to the top of Flight 2.  “DADDEEE. DON’T EMPTY THE DISHWASHER.”  Then there were little sorry-for-himself whining noises from the landing.  Back in he hopped, blood all over his hands, streaming from his nose.  Are there any other children who give themselves really bad nosebleeds by shouting?  It’s his second one in four days, and the other one was caused by a high-pitched shriek.  I suppose I should be grateful he hasn’t shattered any glassware yet.

My ebay bid was a flop, because after I got outbid, I couldn’t work out how to top the higher bid that kept appearing.  I have consulted a Young Thing at The Office who explained what I needed to do.  (”It’s easy.  My husband and I went on a diving holiday last year from the money we made on eBay.”)  Anyway.  The object of my heart’s desire was a Captain Hook outfit, aged 3- 4.  I ordered it full price on Sunday and it arrived today.  I had to let Son 1 try it on to … see if it fits.  He looked fantastic, and he was just so happy.  Bouncing on the bed in it, looking in the mirror.  “Ha-harr.  Give me the treasure lady.”  I gave Son 2 a toy sword, and he gave his huge grin and held it out to touch Son 1’s.  And then whacked me round the head with it, laughing.  He has spent his entire infancy watching Son 1 fencing using swords, sticks, dracaena leaves, wrapping-paper middles, lolly sticks, pencils… So of course he knew exactly what to do when he finally got a toy sword in his little baby fist…     

1.  The Bug

2.  The Tug

3.  The Bid

Rubbish night with both Son 1 aged 3 y 11m and Son 2 aged 11m.  Son 1 had a fever and we had to Ibuprofen him at some godless time in the night.  Son 2 had a cough and was uncomfortable.  I went in with him, then heard a very  upset Son 1 so put The Man in with Son 2, and took Son 1 upstairs.  He really wasn’t well.  A cough like a seal with croup, skin burning all over and weirdie wideawake dreams.  “Mummy, take my nappy off.”  He hasn’t worn a nappy in nearly a year.  

So. Day 2 at the New Nursery and I had to ring to say we were keeping him home. The Man looked after him - I had to go in to The Office. I rang The Man’s mobile at lunchtime. He’d taken Son 1 to work and he’d just lay on some cushions on the floor watching telly.  Pang. “I just want to be with you, Mummy.”  Pang. I had something complicated and important at The Office, scheduled for late afternoon.  Of course, it ended up happening even later.  It went well, which is actually A Good Thing, but I was very late picking up Son 2 and getting home.   Pang. Pang. Pang.  However.  A Counter-Pang.  Son 2’s Nursery Nurse said he’d had a good day.  “We were all just saying how much he’s grown in how he is here, and how much better he is now than he was at the start.”  Hooray hooray hooray.  

Guess what else.  I have bid for something on eBay.  Yes I know everyone else on the planet has been members since 2002 and you’ve all got 12000 stars, spotless feedback and £100,000 turnovers.  But I haven’t.   My New Year Resolution was to start selling off the clutter silting up the house by the end of January.  And I didn’t. I pulled out some bits and bobs and prammed them down to Oxfam instead.   But I’ve set up a PayPal account… not entirely sure how that’s going to work but they’re wading in and out of my bank account so something’s going on.  And I finally decided that I could commit to a 99p bid.  I am sure Wonder Nanny can sort me out if it doesn’t work.  I am so My Mother.  

1.  Uniform

2.  Arrival

3.  Verdict

Wakened at 0520 by a loud barking cough from Son 1 aged 3y 11m.  His first day at the Posh Outstanding Inconvenient Nursery. I went downstairs and got into bed with him to check his temperature and listen to his breathing.  Crisis.  Do I keep him at home with Wonder Nanny on his First Day when I want him to do a short week next week…  Will they only do their settling in stuff this week… Should He Stay Or Should He Go?  I got up at 6am and made drinks, fed Son 2 aged 11m, and got Son 1 into his uniform “If you do this you can have a sticker towards a Power Ranger toy.”  Don’t like his uniform.  Pots of money for bri-nylon fabric which I’d never put him.  And dry clean only trousers.  But as they all say, he just looked so dang grown  up in it.

We got out of the house an hour earlier than usual, and drove to the New Nursery.  It was surprisingly ok to get to - there was traffic, but not as bad as I’d thought.  And the parade of cars dropping off was also tolerable.  I took Son 1 in and a Classroom Assistant sat down with him to play.  The first time I asked him if I should go he clutched my hand.  I waited, and then said “None of the other children have kept their mummies.” And he pushed me away with the back of his hand.  We waved and I blew kisses from the doorway, and off I went, hollow inside.

I was run off my feet at The Office - I texted The Man to tell him the time Son 1 needed picking up, and then didn’t get time to look at his reply till I got home this evening.  Son 2 was crawling across the floor, his smile and eyes beaming like headlights… Son 1 was upstairs playing pirates with Wonder Nanny.  He’d been swimming, he’d brought home a library book.  The New Nursery have taken his file.  “I can’t wait to hear how you got on.”  I said.  “I got on all right,” he said.  “It was great.”