1.  Dropping Off

2.  Sounding Out

3.  Mopping Up

I dropped Son 1 aged 4y 1m off at Nursery, and walked across the tarmac towards my car.  A woman driving off in a Mini wound down her window and smiled at me.  “Good Morning,” I said, thinking did-I-meet-you-at-that-party-I-took-Son-to.  “I just wanted to say how much I like your hair, I always think that” she said.  “What a kind thing to say on a Monday morning,” I said.  “Yours (shining long, rich brown, thick worn loose half way down her back) is very nice, too.”  “No it’s not, it’s just yours is great, I just wish I had the confidence, it’s not just the hair it’s the make up, it’s the whole look, you always stand out.”  “But your hair is beautiful,” I said. “I’ve always wanted long hair, but it would break because it’s bleached.”  “Oh I’m just the same as all the others here, but you really stand out.”  “I’m not sure Son 1 will thank me for that,” I said. 

At lunchtime I met The Man and we went to look at a school in The Town for Son 1.  I have to admit that the drive to the Big Town to go to Nursery is just too much for him.  i thought it would be an extra half hour in the car each day, but by the time I’ve crawled up the main road, parked and dropped him off/picked him up… it’s getting on for an hour and half in the car for him every time he goes.  The school was sweet, the head was fantastic, it did well at Ofsted.  I think Son 1 could be happy there. 

I was very late collecting Son 1 and we were very late back, after a dismally drawn-out drive in the rain and dark.  Son 2 aged 14m was already upstairs with The Man.  Standing in the bath and crying his eyes out.  With a look of pain and misery. Upset because Son 1 and I were missing.   He’s got a light speckled rash on his chest and neck, and several great big spots breaking out on his arms.  Measles I suppose.  He’s definitely out of sorts, and just wants his Mum.  Well he got me.  For about 20 minutes.

1.  Flat on the tummy

2.  Flat tummies

3.  In the tummy

Son 2 aged 8m slept through.  Started clucking at about 0630… neither of us could remember hearing him cry.   I’ve been leaving Son 2 on his tummy as often as I can.  Sometimes he tolerates it, sometimes he whinges.  He was on his tummy this morning during my shower, and seemed to be happy, wagging his legs, propping himself up on straightened arms, playing with toys and forgetting he wants to stand up.  If I have time next week I’ll try and get his back checked out by a doctor.    

After I’d finished at The Office I had my hair done, which is always a Good Thing.   A chance to sit and chat, drink coffee and read gossip magazines.   “I can reveal that Seraphina doesn’t have any eating issues, during our interview she tucked in to a hearty lunch of  egg-white omelette and salad.”   There is something deeply horrible about the intense focus on weight.  “Anastasia’s friends and family are begging her to put weight on - oh look at this series of photos showing Berenice’s pot belly… her friends and family are begging her to get back to the gym.”  Thank heaven for my little boys.   

I was at The Office early today, which meant The Man dropped the boys off and I picked them up.  Son 2 was being carried by a nursery nurse I’d never seen before, and burst into tears as soon as he saw me.  “He’s just been laughing,” they protested.  Son 1 aged 3 and a half jumped up and down next to some boxes of coloured bags.  Bookstart packages… one for Son 1 and one for Son 2.  Son 1 carried both to the car.  At home Son 1 spread the contents all over the kitchen floor.  Son 2 refused the Annabel Karmel minestrone soup, and instead enjoyed mini-cheese sandwiches enormously.  He crumbled them all into atoms, which were then diligently swept up by The Man.