1.    Infection

2.    Confection

3.    Ingestion

I have a stinking cold, and there is no hope that Son 1 aged 4y 11m and Son 2 aged 23m won’t get it. Son 1 was in bed with me last night, his hands seeking my eyebrows and eyelashes, via my nose and mouth.  Son 2 spends a great deal of time with his fingers up his own nostrils, and also trying to get them up mine.  So although I’ve spent the day trying to Catch It Bin It and Kill It, I have a nasty feeling that next week, when I will be back at work after my holiday, when Son 1 starts reception and when it will all be a bit tense and fraught… I will have two littl’uns feeling awful. Never Mind.  Being Positive. I’ve had a massive stretch of time with neither of them being ill. 

We iced the cakes.  Son 1 and Son 2 on their chairs.  The liquorice allsorts, jelly sweets and sugar letters on the chopping boards.  They stuffed their faces. And spat out the liquorice.  I made icing - first time, ta da! - and they drew on it with writing pens, scattered sprinkles, and stuck sweets on. We had nine cakes, and they looked great.  “Was this as much fun as you thought it would be?” I asked Son 1. “Yes.  Can we do it again?”  Yes. But we will swap our liquorice allsorts for dolly mixtures next time. 

We went to Best Friend’s house for lunch. The whole Wednesday gang was there.  Five year old - who we’ve hardly seen this year since he started school in January, his little brother aged 3 and a half… Best Friend aged nearly 5 and his little brother who’s just three, and Son 1 and Son 2. The five elder boys formed a wolf pack. Son 2 decided to stay with me. The two younger brothers were spat out. There was screeching, strutting, chasing, shoving.  Best Friend accidentally head-butted one Wednesday Mum so hard her nose bled. Son 2 kept getting into various beds, making me think he’s already got The Bug. Five Year Old seemed incredibly grown up.   I have such a clear mental picture of him at 17 weeks old, Son 1 at 9 weeks old, Best Friend at 5 weeks old, lying on pillows at Breastfeeding Group.  Breastfed boys, organic and sugar-free in their early diets.  They polished off the fairy cakes in seconds flat.

1.  Cookery

2.  Photography

3.  A Walk In The Park

Yesterday’s Tesco run included a marked-down 74p Christmas biscuit decoration set.  From the first, Son 1 aged 4y 3m wanted only to Ice The Biscuits.  “After breakfast,” I said.  He ate three bites of pancakes and declared breakfast over.  Originally we thought we’d do it when Son 2 aged 15m was having his nap.  But Son 1 couldn’t wait that long.  So we had one big boy in a Thomas apron, and a baby in a highchair, both with biscuits on plates in front of them.  Son 1 took the red icing squirter and made a start on Santa.  Son 2 watched him carefully, and then took an idle bite of his Christmas Pudding.   We squirted green on together.  We gave Son 2 a Rudolf.  Son 1 scattered white sugar stars three-deep over his biscuits.  I turned back to Son 2. He’d bitten a hole in Rudolf.  And a blank Christmas Tree.  We iced.  We scattered.  Son 1 devoured a Christmas Tree.  Son 2 licked all the squirty icing off the Christmas Pudding.  Son 1 watched him.  And then licked all the squirty icing off his Rudolf.

I put two chairs together in the corner of the kitchen to make a little raised playpen for Son 2 while I’m getting food.  He stands on the seat of one, opens the cutlery drawer and plays with the baby spoons and forks.  And the vegetable peeler.  I made lunch.  Son 1 arrived, demanding to know how to use our digital camera.  I showed him.  We now have about 40 pictures of Bag-of-Flour-on-Worktop, Mummy’s-Leg Cupboard-Front,  Kitchen-Floor.  Son 1 thought it was fantastic. 

Son 2 only napped for about 30 minutes in the morning, and was dropping with exhaustion after lunch.  So I thought I’d take both boys out, give The Man a break,  push The Pram till Son 2 slept  and then come back and let Son 1 watch some telly.  We pushed The Pram to The Park.  Son 1 shinnied up the slide ladder.  Son 2 clamoured to be let out.  He went on the slide, he went on the swings, laughing and chortling.  After a very good half hour, I put Son 2 back in The Pram and off we went to the shops.  He stayed awake.  Son 1 was asking to ride on The Pram.  In M and S, they were both crying for food and whining with fatigue.  I rang The Man.  Son 1 rode home on his shoulders.  Son 2 stayed awake the whole time.