1.  I Don’t Have To Runday

2.  Let’s Go Make Some Noise

3.  Funday

Son 1 aged 5, and Son 2 aged 2y 1m slept through, and so did I. Son 1 stayed in his own bed.  This is a Very Good Thing, as I am Truly Knackered.  The first day of Half Term. Son 1, who has issues with Monday morning, eg: http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/09/29/payback/  was dancing on the Big Bed at 0630, spinning round and round with his arms out. “And me!” said Son 2, in raptures, trying to get up there.  They had breakfast. We read. We went upstairs. I read Son 2 Lost and Found and then put it on from the EPG while I had my shower. I zoomed around, they lolled. I wore a silk print frock, with that last-time-this’ll-be-out-this-year feeling. 

Back from The Office, Granny and Grandad were sitting at the table while Wonder Nanny served fruit and yoghurt for pudding. The boys, who I’d seen through the window sitting perfectly, both went into orbit.  Ran off from the table, shouted, raided the fruit I’d bought and took one bite out of everything, fell out over satsumas, shouted, snatched, pushed each other over. Son 1 span round and round.  And shouted.  Yummee.   Just for me. “They’ve been exceptionally well behaved today,” said Grandad.

I told G and G about the dead rat, and got Granny to supervise Upstairs while I took the bins out.  I somehow didn’t fancy dragging dustbins through Rat Alley in the dark. ”Grandad!” called Granny. “Are you going to help Serenedays?” “Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I called back.  But still I heard him get up from his chair.  That’s nice, I thought, he’s still coming down. Nope. Grandad, who has never previously entered a bathroom with boys in, pelted upstairs to help Granny. Not a rat man then.   I saw no critturs. I relieved Granny and Grandad, and conditioned and combed Son 1’s hair. He was not happy.  I don’t think there’s anything there, but I can’t really see. One for Wonder Nanny.  I’ll give Son 2’s a go tomorrow when The Man is back.  Lifestyle Guru Hairdresser says her children never get nits because they’re so rabidly antisocial they never put their heads near anyone else’s.  See? Even head lice can be A Good Thing. They mean your child has social skills.

1.  Animals

2.  Fish

3.  Insects

A slow start today, with Son 1 aged 4y 6m watching Cars (found posted between the speakers.)  And Son 2 aged 18m pleading for The Wiggles at every opportunity.  There is a pair of Son 1’s pants sitting on the side waiting to be put away. Son 2 stared at the picture.  “Digger,” he said, clearly. He’s using Bah a lot now. For: Bath, ball, book, boat and sheep.  If I listen very closely, I realise that he’s got far more words than I give him credit for.  He has a word for “toes” which is similar but not quite. And eye. And arm. And nose. And mouth. And hair.  All not quite near enough to be pretty damn close.  But the big things in his life show no sign of moving.  Crocodiles are still “Nap nap.”  Fish are still opens-and-closes-mouth.  Cows, owls and dogs are all variations of “oooo.” But he can do roh roh roh for Road Roller (and Row Row Row Your Boat.) And Dum Dum for dump truck. HIs Bye Bye is beautiful, but he rarely bothers with his Allo any more.  And often there is a hint of Son 1’s name.  Each time I think I hear it, and I ask him to repeat it, and he goes all fey and faraway: “Me?  Speak?  Don’t know how.  Not trying.”

We went to the Garden With a Beach.  With two Wednesday Friends and their parents, and a couple of friends of theirs.  The beach is at the bottom of a long, steep jungle-like garden, all bamboo, pine and gunnera.  There is a lake at the bottom full of rainbow trout, which Son 2 loved.  On the beach I put both boys in their Sunsuits.  Son 1 because within 15 minutes he’d soaked his shoes, tee shirt and vest. And Son 2 because he just aimed himself at the water and nuclear rockets wouldn’t have stayed him from his course…  Son 2 was great. The water was freeeeeeezing.  The beach was tiny stones, hell to walk on. But he didn’t care.   There was moving water. There were sandy stones.  Pig in muck.

Back home, Son 1 slept, Son 2 watched The Wiggles, and I made pizza for tea.  I was late with it, and then we got them to bed late.  Then, after four books, Son 1scratched the back of his head in a way that made me reach for the Nitty Gritty.  Bedroom light full on.  Contact lenses out.  I simply can’t see any more.  I don’t think there was anything living, and he may have a touch of sunburn on his hairline from not wearing a hat today.  Famous Last Words.  Then when I finally poured myself a glass of wine ands switched the computer on… there he was at the top of the stairs. “I can’t sleep.”  Very, very unlike him.  I’ve only just got him back, and normally he’s a head-on-the-pillow and that’s it kind of boy.