1.  Cleaning

2.  Keening

3.  Meaning

Our Family Activity this morning was cleaning the Fish Tank.  Flossie, Floppy, Fluffy, Zizzy, Sulky and Coupon are all still going strong. Floppy last part of his tail and it has grown back.  Betcha didn’t know that happened.  Sulky and Zizzy have put on a bit of weight.  So telling them apart from Floppy and Fluffly is… not possible. Coupon has grown in confidence, and no longer lives shivering in the Bog Wood.  Sigh.  Whole New Worlds into which my children have taken me.  Anyway. The Man has a new sucky siphon thing which he used to hoover the gravel. He cleaned the filters.  I caught snails, because The Man won’t touch ‘em.  I caught 10, and put them in a plastic tub, where most were flattened in a single squelch by the curious and chubby index finger of Son 2 aged 2y 2m.   

Then we went crabbing. This was down to The Man.  Yesterday, having a quiet cuddle with Son 1 aged 5y 1m, he said idly: “What time’s your party?”  Oh dear, wrong in so many ways.  I had accepted an invitation to Little Classmate’s party. And then I had to ring back and say he couldn’t go. I explained all this to Son 1, and he’d protested, but then forgotten. The Man dredged it all up again. And then said, to calm the wails: “Don’t worry, we’ll go crabbing instead.”  Son 1 was thrilled. “Darling, there’s a Force 10 coming through, and the Coastguards are asking people to stay away from quays,” I said. A cubic metre of water weighs a tonne. My new fact of the day.  More wailing. Today the sky was blue, the water was flat, so we all went down to the Quay at the end of The Terrace, and caught bucketsfull.

The Aged Aunt has died, and I am strangely unsettled. She had a stroke while we were on holiday, and has been in hospital since. Eldest Brother was her carer, and I’d spoken to him last weekend to see how they both were.  Younger Sister rang this morning; she’d died in her sleep.  The Aged Aunt was my late father’s elder sister.  There was another brother, shot dead aged 19 by a German when he parachuted into Normandy in 1945.  I feel as if a link with my Dad has been cut.  We took the boys to see her in June journeys so at least we have pictures to show them later.  I watched Son 2 load pigs, sheep and people onto his Playmobil tractor. He knocked it over. “Oh Deer. Wos ‘appen ‘ere.”  The light caught on his pale white face, his skin smooth, his eyes shining.  In 1924 my Grandmother may have sat, with the same adoring expression on her face, watching the Aged Aunt play.

1.  Howlround

2.  Clash

3.  Bump

Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht. Alles schlaft. Until Son 2 aged 2 started SHOUTING FOR MUMMY. I sprang out of bed to get to him before he woke Son 1 aged 5, sleeping next to him, scooped him up and put him in the Double Bed between The Man and me.  Granny is in the Big Bed upstairs, and The Man and I are next to the boys. I checked the time on a clock downstairs.  4am. The little beggar.  He tossed and turned and wriggled and writhed. At 0445 I gave up and got up. On the Bright Side. I copied dates from 2009 into the 2010 calendar. I cleared out the mess in my bag. I paid a bill which had been outstanding forever. I ordered school photos. I made the lunches.

Son 2 wasn’t impressed with being left at home, Son 1 was Perfect Child. A long drive in this morning because of the rain. I dropped him off and had another Hard Day At The Office.  I have muddled up Son 1’s Parents’ Evening. I thought it was today, which I could have left early for.  It isn’t. It’s next Tuesday, and already my whole day is jam-packed.  The Man will have to go without me.  Bright side: I bought a new dress from TK Maxx.  There is an Important Office Do on Thursday night.  I took it round to the Godmother for a second opinion. She approved, and provided pashmina and handbag.

When I got home, Son 2 chortled, giggled and clung.   Both boys were excited… there were two plastic bags resting on top of the water in the Fish Tank. Granny has bought four more fish.  Son 1 has carefully considered, and named them Fluffy, Floppy, Zizzy and Sulky.  Friends for Flossy and Coupon.  An instant shoal.  They seem to be getting on ok.   In Son 1’s bag there was an apologetic note from his class teacher. We can’t have the time we asked for his Parents’ Evening appointment. She’s happy to do another day and time if it would be more convenient. Oh all right then.   As you’re unable to fit us in, we’ll re-schedule.  No, no, don’t mention it, we don’t mind at all.

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.  Multi-tasking

2.  Multiplying

3.  Multi-coloured

Bone Tired. It has been a very long week.  I don’t know about children getting tired when they start reception but the five early starts a week are killing me.  We’ve been whirling at a cracking rate since the party last Saturday.  Son 1 aged 5 is truly dropping.  He is a saint.  Poor child. Opens a massive pile of presents on Tuesday and  hasn’t actually had the time to look at them since.   I wrote him 12 thank you letters last night. Because I Don’t Have Enough To Do.  I managed to work out what all but 2 children had given him. It made me late starting Office work and I fell asleep over my laptop.  This morning he was, all things considered ,a little angel.  Out of the house on top, breakfasted, teeth cleaned, telly watched and clutching his thank you notes. He posted them in the other children’s drawers as soon as he got to school.

Another high octane day at The Office, although there was a Friday lunchtime drink which was nice. Too much talk about young children though. I do realise that when people ask after your children they’re expecting one word answers… it’s just I never manage.  I picked Son 1 up from After School Club and he looked cross and wrecked.  “He’s been sitting looking out for you,” said the Teaching Assistant.  I heard a subtext which probably wasn’t there: “Can’t you pick him up any earlier, it is Friday.”  He’s got another full sticker card.  We went to Tesco, and again, he was fantastic. He was allowed some new Ben 10 pants for his stickers. He wanted plasticine. Or a comic. Or a toy.  40+ new toys lying around the house and he’s still nagging.

When we got back, The MAn had taken Son 2 aged 2 down to the Yacht Club. I took Son 1 for a quickie before I had to start work again. The Man and Son 2 were with two parents we know with their daughters.  Son 2 spotted me through the window, laughed, waved, and came running out to see me. The boys behaved disgracefully.  Loud shrieking, loud shouting, pushing over, pestering…  Textbook out. Look up symptoms. Ah. They are also shattered. I think what we all need is a quiet, relaxing weekend. We have a trip to the Olde Sweet Shoppe, a wedding and a Boat Trip planned. Looking on the bright side, Flossy and Coupon are flourishing, seem to think the new tank is great and are very relaxing to watch.  And the fish shop woman said we can have some more after four days or so.

1.  The Morning After The Night Before

2.  Air Pressure

3.  The Bear Garden

Jaysus if it’s like this the day after one of them is 2, what’s it going to be like when they’re 18?  Son 1 aged 4y 11m had a lie in, Son 2 aged 2 was live and kicking at 7am despite his crackalacking day yesterday and an extremely late night. The Man and I were washing up, rinsing bottles and gathering up leftover paper in bin bags. As far as I could tell, the tally was one bottle of vintage cava, one bottle of white wine, two cartons of pineapple juice and a heck of a lot of stubbies. We let them have a lazy day. They watched Son 1’s new Charlie and The Chocolate Factory DVD.  Yes I  know, but he had a hard week. He had to go to school on the Wednesday with the Best Weather this year, his chosen Party Entertainer dumped us, and he had to go to school on Son 2’s birthday. And it was from Oxfam so I was Saving The World.   

We planned to go to the library after lunch, but a parcel arrived from Younger Sister for Son 2, and Son 1, sick with excitement and sibling rivalry, shrieked so loudly I nearly had him adopted.  It was like he nail-gunned a knitting needle into my ear.  The whole side of my face went numb.  I picked him, carried him up two flights of stairs and hurled him into his bed, closing the blinds and shutting the door. Son 2 and I went into The Town, but every step made my ear hurt, so we came back. I suspect the problem has more to do with my rampant upper respiratory congestion than his high-frequency blast bombs, but I still felt assaulted.  Son 2 fell asleep in the Big Pram on the way back, Son 1 was asleep in his room, so The Man and I had Daytime To Ourselves. We worked on the fish tank. He fiddled with the pipe to the skull and the treasure chest, while I read fascinating facts about the plants he’d bought. We had about three minutes’ Quality Time before Son 2 woke up.

Son 1 pulled out last year’s Birthday Party things. He wanted another Teddy Bear’s picnic, so we let them play outside while I did some food.  The Man was admirable. Spontaneous decision to go outside again - taken well. Arrival of 30+ Teddy Bears from the plastic bag under Son 2’s cot.  Taken Very Well.  Pirate and Peter Pan flags and flagging hung from fences and washing line. Taken Very Well. Children hooting with excitement during meal, Taken Very Well.  The Teddy Bears had salad, green beans, new potatoes, and leftover chicken and cocktail sausages from yesterday.  They went to be at Six O’clock because they were Tired Little Teddy Bears.  Son 1 and Son 2 went considerably later. Taken Very Well.

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.  Swimming By Dozens

2.  A Nine Turtle Stack

3.  The King Of The Pond

A very tired Son 1 aged 4y 11m was in bed with me when I woke. No idea when he arrived.  We had a vague plan to start getting the fish tank ready for fish. But a friend texted… partner working and in the market for a trip. We decided crabbing on The Boat. The Man went down to the shops to get picnic stuff. Son 1 watched telly. Son 2 aged 23m came in the shower with me. He’s grrrr-reat.

We chugged for about 45 minutes, then The Man anchored and we got out the crab lines. Our Friend had brought with a vast pile of saved washing tablet net bags. “I knew they’d come in handy one day,” she said. They are just the best thing for crabbing. You fill them with bacon, add a stone, chuck it overboard and wait.   We caught 61 crabs. Son 1 was fab, he’s so confident now, he was hauling them in, catching them in his net and plopping them in the buckets without any adult help.  Son 2 was weeping with frustration because Son 1 wouldn’t let him hold a net with crabs in.  Poor little titch.  Living with us has taught him that he’ll always be left out and treated like a baby, and he’s responded by barging into everything without caring if he’s physically big enough to Have A Go.  In the end he got so tired we had to put the engine on to get him to sleep. Which meant emptying out the crabs.  Hmmm. We had our 60+ crabs in four  beach buckets. The ones at the bottom of the pile did not look happy.  I think we re-created Yertle The Turtle.  In my role as official animal welfare inspector I think next time we need either bigger buckets or fewer crabs.

Both boys fell asleep in the cabin on the way back, and Little Friend eventually passed out in his mother’s arms.   Back on the mooring, The Man switched the engine off.  Son 2 woke instantly and sprang into action.  The other mother couldn’t believe it. Happens every time, we told her. Back home, the boys were tired, we were tired, but Son 1 was determined to Wash Gravel to prepare the Fish Tank.  “I’ll make the tea,” said The Man. “You wash the gravel with them.”  “No, no, it’s ok,” I said. “I’ll make the tea, you wash the gravel.”  Son 2 insisted on being involved. I listened to the sounds of a bucket of gravel getting washed in the back sink.  “Son 2!” “No, Son 2!” “No!” The Man was more patient that I’d've been.  They both ate their stir fry, with Son 1 proclaiming:”This is the best chicken I ever tasted.”  Farm shop chicken, ridiculously expensive.  He can spot the bad stuff at 20 paces too.

1.  Starting Gate

2.  School Gates 

3.  Stair Gates

Every bloody morning for the last eight weeks Son 1 aged 4y 11m has been bouncing out of bed.  Today he couldn’t get up. “I’m tired. Who says we have to get up?” We tried to get him to eat a croissant but it was yesterday’s. Wouldn’t eat it. Ate only about 15 dry Cheerios and a few grapes for breakfast.  Into his school uniform, cuteness on legs. “Tell Daddy to buy you a Variety Pack for breakfast tomorrow.”  “And me!” chorused Son 2 aged 23m.  Son 1 trailed downstairs, and I heard him saying: “Mummy says I can have Coco Pops for breakfast.” 

We had a late start because we were seeing the dentist.  I stopped off to get Son 1 a comic. “Mummy why have I got this comic?”  “To keep you occupied while I see the hygienist.”  “But why does it include me?” “Because your dentist’s appointment is after mine.”  A couple of weeks ago a fragment broke off my front incisor leaving a sharp corner.  I asked the hygienist why it had happened. “Acidic drinks?” she said. “Fruit juice?  Wine?”  Ah. The dentist said both Son 1 and I are doing great.   i dropped him off at his school. The children were on break.  His form teacher met us and showed us around. I showed her Son 1’s chest, covered in molluscum contagiosum.  I’ve been worried they won’t let him go swimming. “Oh we had loads of that last year, I think it’s all right as long as it’s not weeping.” The school’s had building work done over the holidays and it’s fantastic. Two new teaching assistants know us from Son 1’s Old Nursery. He scampered off to play with friends from Nursery last year.  And That Was That.

After The Office, I walked in to find The Man was unpacking the fish tank he’s bought for Son 1 and Son 2’s joint birthday present. They were in raptures. “Fish Tank! Fish Tank!” chortled Son 2.  Yes we know it’s ahead of the Big Days… but we have cleaning to do and gravel to wash and plants to settle in before we can even think about fish.  I wanted to know all about Son 1’s First Day At School.  He wanted to wash gravel. He was exhausted and uncontrollable and adorable.  i scooped them upstairs for their baths. Son 2 shut the stair gate behind us.  He is the only one who closes them, and then I can’t get through when my hands are full of cups/washing/etc. The Man took both stair gates out while I read to Son 2.  The house looks very different without them.

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.