1.  Babs In The Buck-Buck

2.  You Shall Have A Fishy

3.  Sundowners

Out to the river wall at the end of The Terrace, crabbing again.  The Man baiting two lines with bacon, Son 1 aged 4y 10m happily scooting up and down, me trying to keep Son 2 aged 23 m out of the water.   Eleven crabs.  We all caught them, including Son 2. “Bab! Bab!”  Son 2 is of course still obsessed with fish, and while crabs were ok, yearned for “Fish!  Fish!”  And he also wanted to bait the hooks. “Babon! More Babon!”  We persuaded him to feed bits of babon to the babs in the buck-bucks instead. Son 1 is going to fall in the river.  He is always right on the edge, he has no concept of the incoming tide “Son 1 you really do have to MOVE!” and he doesn’t understand that the green slimy stuff is very very slippery.   Oh well. There is one sure way of his learning…

Still on our fishy theme, we drove to the Garden Centre so Son 1 and Son 2 could have another look at the Fish Shop.  Son 1 is still keen to get a fish tank for his birthday, so we wanted him to have a good look at all the fish for sale to get an idea of what he wants.  Nemo.  Who needs warm, salt water, a tank full of difficult, expensive swaying corals and assorted sci-fi prawnie things to keep the water and the tank clean.  Main diet of prawnie things = expensive corals.   The lad behind the Fish Shop counter recommends tropical fish for a beginner. Easier than goldfish, who are too messy.  The starter tank kit was eye-wateringly expensive. “Son 2, do you want to share Son 1’s fish tank for your birthday present?”  “Yesssss.” Sorted.  They can have toys for Christmas.

They fell asleep in the car on the way back, so The Man and I drove up to the Headland for sneaky whirly whippy ice creams with chocolate flakes in.  We scoffed them guilty while they slept. Back home I went shopping with Son 2 while Son 1 and The Man watched telly.  I got tea, amid protests from Son 2, who couldn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to wash the potatoes. Because we’re having stir fry darling.  Nanna babysat while The Man and I went out to the Hotel With The River View. We sat outside while the sky darkened and the lights across the river came on.

1,  Stealth

2.  Sea King

3.  Merlin

I was very pleased to get to bed without Son 1 aged 4y 9m padding upstairs behind my heels, and glad also to get through the night without being wakened by a little pale visitor clambering into the Big Bed.  I woke to the usual siren sound of “Mummeee, Mummeee” from downstairs. And was eyeball to eyeball with a little pale visitor.  No idea when he turned up.  He obviously didn’t wake me when he got in, and I didn’t wake him when I got up. 

The Rockpool Beach was just a strip of sand with great rolling waves reaching well up it.  “It’s going out,” said the Wednesday Mums.  They weren’t staying, they each had other things to do. I decided we’d hang around and see how we got on. I put Son 2 in his sunsuit and plastered him in Factor 50.  How British. Yesterday it rained on me so hard I could barely breathe… this afternoon I was gazing out to sea wondering how could I could go for a dip with two children on land.  Son 1 went in the sea up to his hips in his trousers.  i yelled at him and got him in his sunsuit.  The tide pelts in on that beach, and it raced out.   The three of us played at the water’s edge.  We had some lunch. Son 1 wanted to go home - he’d got cold but wouldn’t let me change him.  I span it out.  We took him to the loo and on the way back looked in rockpools for cowries. We found two.  Three children came up to us to show us the crab they’d caught.  They wanted ice cream; the cafe was shut. Son 2 understood the drift of the conversation, and went nuts “Ice Deam! Ice Deam!”  Embarrassed, I told their mother :”His brother was organic and sugar-free till he was two, but his favourite words are sweets, choc-choc, ice deam, bik bik and cake.” “Wait for the third,” said the mother. ”She was three at the weekend, and we gave her a DS. ”

Son 1 clambered in the Big Pram, fidgeted around to get comfortable and tipped it over sideways onto some rocks. The Big Pram is as sturdy as a small tank.  Maybe I should admit he really is too big for it.   We cleared up and went up the cliff to the car. The Navy flew by, very low, in a helicopter. We waved. They waved back.  Very exciting. I have for years told Son 1 that we have to wave at helicopters because they are waving at us, and now I have been proved right.  Back home we got a space outside the house.  I put the children in, unloaded the car, put Finding Nemo on upstairs “Fish! Fish!” and Nanna came round.   I made tortilla for tea. Son 2 demolished his in minutes, Son 1 sucked the butter from his hot baguette and said he’d finished.

1.  A Glorious Day

2.  An Excruciating Evening

3.  A Successful Meal

We have been On Holiday. Fantastic, thank you.  Scorching sunshine, lovely villa, beautiful pools. Perfect.  We were with Granny and Granddad, Elegant Aunt and Golfmad Uncle.    Son 1 aged 4y 7m, Son 2 aged 20m and I spent most of each day in the water. The Man dipped in and out, and Granny joined us yesterday.  Son 1 came on leaps and bounds before our eyes.  The boy who wouldn’t put his face in the water where all about him were jumping in, ducking down and diving under can now swim a length of the children’s pool facedown, pick toys sharks up from the bottom and is pretty damn near being able to copy Marvellous Mummy’s handstands.   Son 1 went to Baby Swimming Classes from about 9 weeks old.  Son 2 has never had a swimming lesson.  By the end of the holiday he could float calmly in his armbands and scrabble back to me if I insisted.   But he didn’t really want to.  On one Amazing Morning, I had them both in the pool at 11am. By 12, Son 1 was asleep under a towel on a sun lounger, and Son 2 was crashed out in the MacLaren.  We all had Bloody Marys. I did 20 lengths in the outside pool, watching an azure-winged magpie flitting around.  I then had the whirlpool and indoor pool to myself, and got to blow-dry my hair after swimming for the first time in four-and-a-half years. When I emerged, gleaming and glowing, Son 2 was Up, Cross and Hungry, on The Man’s knee.

We must do it again, we said, we must stay longer. Son 1 found a leaflet about a 2008 sand sculpture competition. “I want to go here. To the land of the sand.” We’ll try in the autumn, we said, we’ll check out flights and prices… And then the trip home.  Son 2 on a plane. Golly, quel beast.  He was bad enough on the way out, but on an afternoon flight on a plane full of tipsy golfers, there was enough cheering, clapping and ambient sound to absorb his wailing.  On an evening flight, after a long, sleepless day he was Satan With The Baffles Out.  Loudest child there by many, many miles.   He kicked seats, he struggled, he roared, he twisted, he wept, he sobbed, he shouted.  For two-and-a-half hours.  It was past funny, past the point where I could look at anyone else and past the point where I wanted anything to do with him.  He quietened down 5 minutes before landing, and hot, red-faced, glazed-eyed and floppy, ignored the bump as the plane came down. Then, again alert, he peered out of the window, pointed outside at the vehicles whizzing past and said: “Bus.”  

Today we opened post, washed clothes and downloaded photos.  Son 2 wanted to go to sleep, so he and I had a heavenly cuddle on the double bed before he passed out.  Little arms around my neck, a  little cheek pressed against mine, soft breath on my lips… who could possibly ever say a bad word to say about him?  Son 1 had five Euros off Granny for a treat, so we went into The Town in search of a comic, a chicken and some fruit.  Nanna came round , looking, sounding and walking much better since they put her on Warfarin.   The Man made Sunday dinner, and the boys ate chicken, broccoli, carrots, potatoes and gravy.  Big relief to see them eating the right stuff. Son 2’s vocabulary now includes: crisps, chips (same ‘kip’ word for both) sweets, ice cream and chocolate.  Much more advanced than Son 1, who didn’t get a grain of sugar from us till he was gone 2.

1.  Supertramp

2. Ice cream

3. An early night

We aimed at a slow day after yesterday’s epic.  Son 2 aged 10m played with the helium balloons.  Son 1 watched telly and played with his Scooby toys.  The Man and I got up slowly.  Son 2 was exhausted, and had his milk feed, played, did a couple of books, ate his breakfast, and then went back to sleep.  The Man proudly put the iPod in its stand.  Supertramp.  It really has been rather a while since we did anything about our CD collection.

He took Son 1 aged 3 y 10m off to look at The Boat, and they came back just after I’d finished giving Son 2 his lunch.  Son 1 had been promised an ice cream, so we all walked into The Town.  We were thinking dish of something additive free in a cafe that would sell me a nice coffee.  Son 1 wanted a Fab from the ice cream van.  We saw 2.5 and his family  in the cheapo toy shop.

By tea time both boys had had it.  Son 1 was off like a firework, Son 2 was loud and whingey. I did everything early so we could get them to bed earlier.  Son 1 was bouncing off the walls. He lay down naked on Son 2’s nappy mat to stop me putting Son 2 on it.  So I plonked Son 2 on Son 1’s bare tummy, and both of them giggled and giggled.   We got them down in the end.  I went for a run, then when I came back, The Man went off to work for the evening.