1.  Night 2

2.  School homework

3.  Moment captured

4.  Swimming

Son 2 aged 13m stayed in the cot overnight again, Wa-hay.  He struggled going to sleep, I moved him into it when I went to bed… he woke at 0430.  I woke, looked at the clock, decided he’d done well and I’d go down to him, and then he was crying again and it was 0630. 

The tiny school 3 miles away that I like for Son 1 has just had an Outstanding Ofsted.   Disaster.  I found it when it was only Good, hands off.  So I went for a coffee with a friend’s friend, an expert in schools admissions.  Take The Man to see it, make sure the Head knows it’s your first choice and then just keep in touch so you find out before close of submissions if it’s oversubscribed and you’d be wasting your time trying.  She sold me on the one her children go to as our second choice, and we could get Son 1 in there. We’re lucky, because we can choose any school in The Town and Son 1’s is a low birthrate year.  He can go anywhere.  If I just can get that little village school out of my system…

Son 2 is getting good at standing.  He’s got a bit of control, and can balance and look at something he’s doing at the same time.  And then, after lunch… he stood, he looked, and he wobbled forward.  And his little feet stumbled forward, left right left right, until he sat down on his big fat nappy bottom.  The crowd (me, Wonder Nanny, Son 1) went wild and clapped and cheered.  “Well done Son 2!” “Do it again, do it again!”  Son 2 looked as if he’d like to oblige, but hadn’t the faintest idea what he’d done to get such a reaction.  And now I know why I blog diligently.  I’ve no idea of the exact moment Son 1 took his first steps - he was probably at nursery.

A Four Good Things day.  We took the boys swimming, and it was lovely.  Son 1 was mad with excitement, playing pirates the whole time, forcing himself between me and Son 2 whenever he thought we were enjoying ourselves without  him.  Son 2 loves the water.  We came back and they were both exhausted.  Tea was early, getting them to bed was early… Son 2 passed out within minutes and hasn’t stirred this evening.  I was downstairs at 1815… and Wonder Nanny had done all the clearing up.  Wa-hay.

1.  The Family

2.  The Garden

3. 1820

Teenaged niece has been sea-swimming again.  She, Teenaged Nephew, Brother and Sister In Law stayed with Mother over the weekend.  The competition finished too late each day to see us, so we met up late this morning for an early lunch.  TNc won a gold medal.  For a 1k run on the sand.  Brother and Mother like the Harbourside Brasserie.  Glamorous 22 year old graduate is working there as a waitress.  We had her hungover friend.  Son 1 aged 3 y 11m dealt with the wait for food in his usual way, and I picked him up, plonked him outside in The Big Pram and told him I’d come back when he was behaving.  “Go away,” he said when I went back.  “I’m having a nice peaceful rest here.”   Son 2 aged 11m dutifully chewed his egg, potato and cheese sauce, The chips came.   He nearly bounced out of his seat with excitement. I’d given him a couple of chips last Tuesday when we were out with Wonder Nanny.  Oh God. I didn’t realise that’s all it takes to create a junk food addict.

Son 1 had packed a deflated beach ball to play with his cousins in The Square.  They did this last summer, and he remembered.  Spooky memory.  Poor old TNp was red in the face and had really had enough.  We said our goodbyes and pushed the Pram and buggy back through the town.  Neither child slept.  Son 1 was borderline, but then we passed the last pub before home, and our Little Friend from The Big Zoo was there with his Dad.  So they came round for tea, smoothies and a play in the garden with the bubble gun.  I tried to do a bit more work on the bindweed.  It has superglued itself to a roll of Astro-turf like stuff we have outside, waiting for us to get around to putting it across some gravel to make another play area.  No point in worrying about Global Warming. While there is bindweed there will always be life.

The great, glad, glorious and grand thing about the boys not sleeping during the day was that they were faces in plates with fatigue by teatime.  Son 2 just sat in his highchair and sobbed.  Son 1 couldn’t sit down or still.  I was chopping up vegetables for minestrone soup… but gave up and slung an M and S cottage pie in the mike for them.   Poor old Son 2 was carried away howling.  Son 1 stayed up for ice cream.  But we had them both asleep at 1820.  It was fantastic.  Time to finish the minestrone soup, make salad for us, have a glass of wine, get ready for tomorrow… Wow.  We can have a life.   If we poke them awake all day and then feed them at four o’clock.