1.  Cuddling

2.  Waiting

3.  Laughing

Court didn’t start till 1030, so, in principle, I had a nice slow start this morning.   Son 2 aged 20m woke up and I snuggled in the Double Bed with him.  The child who has never liked lying still in bed is  becoming delightfully tolerant of 15 - 20 minutes’ cuddling.  I pin my hopes on his going back to sleep; he pretends to have a doze and then crawls off with an “Up.” I put Cars on for Son 2 aged 4y 8m and  Son 2 and I did some books.  Bear Hunt was a great success.  The Man rang… and we all sat in the bay window and waited for Wonder Nanny. 

Court didn’t actually start till very late.  I’m getting to like the waiting around. Everyone brings books and papers but we don’t read them, we just sit and chat, chat, chat.  It’s very Big Brother/Lost, as people’s backgrounds and stories slowly emerge.  I was the cliffhanger today.  “Was the baby all right yesterday?”  Of course he was. It was Mummy who suffered.   

I walked past the window as I got home and saw Wonder Nanny, Son 1 and Son 2 sitting demurely at the table having tea. And then within seconds of my arriving, the whole thing had disintegrated. Son 2 was wailing to be picked up, Son 1 was in a sulk and the noise levels were rocketing.   “I think I’d better have a glass of wine,” I said. Son 2 shrieked in excitement and leaned over my shoulder.  He was pointing at the wine rack.  20 months old and he knows his way round alcohol.  Oops, said Bridget. We waved Wonder Nanny off.  We had a pretty good natured books and bathtime… with both boys standing up in the shower together, looking wet and shiny and gorgeous.  After, we went into Son 1’s room, where I read How Does A Dinosaur Say Goodnight to both of them before I take Son 2 off to sleep.  They both started blowing brilliantly rude-sounding raspberries on my tummy, reducing all three of us to helpless laughter.  Son 1 is a master at comedy slobby farty noises… and Son 2 did some crackers too.  They both loved making me laugh.  Even when I was putting Son 2 down in his cot, with the usual bend my head right over to be near his, he was still trying to find something soft to use for flobber noises.

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.  Warming Up

2.  Endurance Event

3.  Prizegiving

Wrecked this morning. Cold-ridden.  Exhausted. To bed at 0130.  Woken at 0630 by Son 1 aged 4y 2m screaming the place apart.  Son 2 aged 15m woke up.  In the summer, when it’s warm and light, Son 1 padded upstairs and clambered into the Big Bed.  Now it’s cold and dark he just screams and screams till a parent goes and gets him.  And by the time we get there of course his brother is awake.    

Not a day to aim high.  I needed to take a suit to the dry cleaners (dropped melted butter down the skirt yesterday rushing to get ready for Nursery) and we wanted more library books.  But that was about it.  I had dreams.  Both boys were so tired, I thought if we put them in the prams and pushed, they would nod off, and there would be a few minutes’ Peace On Earth for The Man and me.  Well we went to the library, where Son 2 pulled out all the baby  books, all the early reader books and started on a little pile of DVDs… and we went through The Town.  All the way to The Square.  Son 1 was singing Jingle Bells and Son 2 was cooing and calling All The Way.  I told Son 1 he could have a sweet from his Trick Or Treat bucket if he had a snooze, and the poor boy really tried… but nope.  Pulling the buggy hood down over you and pretending didn’t count.

When we got home we did our usual late lunch for starving boys, and then  I snuggled Son 2 to sleep on the double bed in his room.  He was way past wanting to nap, but was happy having a cuddle with me.  I have made cuddling progress with him at last, but it has been a long haul.  From being ramrod alert the whole time, and viewing Mummy’s arms as something you use to reach things or transport you, he is slowly starting to relax and snug in/cuddle when he’s asked.  And he even does it now without being prompted.   The feeling of a soft, fluffy head snuggling in under my chin is a money-can’t-buy luxury I wish I could somehow save.