1.  Red Eye

2.  Red Alert

3.  Red Roses

I’ve been up with Son 1 aged 5y 1m every night this week.  He’s cried, he’s wanted water, he’s wanted squash, he’s needed Calpol, he’s been hot, he’s been cold, he’s climbed into bed with his Mum.  Then last night, he slept like a stone, all the way through, and in the early hours of this morning was still in the same position he’d fallen asleep in.  Me?  Up since 0230.   Doing Office emails at 0400.  Crashed out at 6am, with two boys buzzing me.  “EithergodownstairsandseeDaddy, orcomeintobedandgivemeacuddle,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. Son 2 aged 2y 2m pad-padded off, Son 1 clambered clumsily over the pillows. Little arms went around my neck. ”Son 1 gone downstair,” said a high, little voice in my ear.   It was Son 2, and he was gorgeous.  

The Office were strangely unenthusiastic about the presence of someone with a rattling loud cough, splashing sneezes and Scarlet Fever at home, and this afternoon I gave up and left early. I rang the Surgery for Son 1’s strep test result. Not back. Try again on Monday.  No hurry there then. No wonder they whack the children straight onto antibiotics rather than wait for confirmation.  Back home, Wonder Nanny said Son 1 had seemed much better today. He’d eaten well at lunchtime and said his throat wasn’t sore any more. His rash seems to be lighter too.  It hasn’t gone - it’s still all over him, but it’s gone from being very red to pinky.   He is itching his head like mad.  Yes I have checked and checked and I don’t think it’s livestock. I wonder whether he’s got the rash on his scalp and the hair is irritating it. 

“What about Son 2?” Everyone has asked.  Bouncing around like Tigger.  “Mummy come back work.”  He needed to be picked up, to be cuddled, to be held.   I had a pile of Office calls to take and make.  Son 2 found it very difficult to keep away.  He’s adorable.  Lovely to tickle, to cuddle, to hold, to talk to, to hold hands with, to kiss.  Even The Man sighed this evening “Son 2 is beautiful, isn’t he?”  At bedtime, Son 1 has his bath; I read to Son 2. Then Son 2 has his bath, I get him out, he cuddles me, he lies on his back on the floor and pulls my face next to him, he fights me as I clean his teeth, he plays while I read him his dinosaur book, he lies in his cot and pulls me down to him so my face is next to his.  I Have Never Been Loved Like This Before.

1.  Orienteering

2.  Endurance

3.  Deliverance

A rubbish night’s sleep. Son 1 aged 5y arrived at about 0230 and then couldn’t/wouldn’t go back to sleep. The Man, on his first night back from his Business Trip, gave up on us and de-camped to the Double Bed.   In the end, secret co-sleeping advocate that I am,  I put Son 1 back in his own bed, put the fan on, lay down with him till he went to sleep and trudged off back to the Big Bed.  I still couldn’t sleep.  I was Tetchy and Touchy in the morning. But managed a sudden and sustained Cheer Up when I got into a pair of size 14 trousers.

We went swimming at the Hotel Pool with the Wednesday Friends. The older brothers were still in school.  I forgot Son 1’s rash vest, and was uber anxious about his bright red spotty chest.  Molluscum and eczema.  Great combo.  He couldn’t have cared less. Jumped in, splashed round, dived for sea horses and swam and swam.  He did one width, and then when I wa-hayed and clapped… swam back across the other one. And turned round and swam back again to get me to do it again. A little lesson in how much he’ll do for approval.  So I put him on my back and swam across with him giggling all the way.  Son 2 was great, his fists full of toys he wouldn’t let go of.. and still managing to kick his legs like mad to keep afloat.   At one point when he was getting tired he just hung in the water, watching the others.  I used to take Son 1 to swimming classes every week, and he started swimming in armbands at around 2. And Son 2 has never had a swimming lesson, and has started swimming in armbands at… er… 2.  

We met Granny and Grandad and The Man for lunch. The boys were so tired they only just hung in there, but we made allowances and got away with it. Back home they watched telly, I slumped on the sofa. Having Son 1 back on Wednesday was a Good Thing, and it made me realise how much I miss him.  Son 2 was remarkable. Didn’t sleep in the car after swimming, didn’t sleep in the car after lunch. Didn’t sleep or lie down in the afternoon. And this was after an hour of intense exercise in the pool. By tea he was collapsed against me, picking out the brocolli from the pasta shells. But by pre-bath reading, he had six books and was still trying to get me to do a seventh. He passed out pretty quickly at bedtime, but has just, as I write this at gone 10pm, wailed and wailed and wailed for me. We left him. We are neither of us capable of walking up a flight of stairs to go and see him.

1.  Avoir Fatigue

2.  M’Aider

3.  The Couleurs King

I have been awake since 3am. Ellen MacArthur did five months on five minutes’ sleep every four hours.  Or something. I could so see her off.   I woke up, couldn’t get back to sleep, went downstairs, made a cup of tea, went back upstairs, got my Book Club book and went back down to the Double Bed for a peaceful middle-of-the-night readfest.  A little figure came padding down from the Big Bed. Wordlessly and glassy-eyed, Son 1 aged 5 plonked himself in the Double Bed.  Mrs Smiley’s voice echoed in my head: “How’s his sleeping?”  I switched off the light. “My head is still hurting.” I gave him a slug of Kalpol. He didn’t sleep; I didn’t sleep. He eyebrowed vigorously and clamped himself to me.  After a very very long time, Son 2 aged 2y 1m wailed.

After an hour at The Office, my voice had gone again.  “I’ll go home and work there,” I told a colleague. I didn’t make it. I found if I kept my head down, said nothing and drank lots of hot drinks, I could manage. I did a mad run round the shops at lunchtime.  I have… erm.. burnt Son 1’s tummy by putting neat tea tree oil on his molluscum. It’s made his eczema flare up.  I asked Teenaged Niece what she put on her eczema. “HE 45″ she said. I wasn’t going to take her word for it. I was going to ask the pharmacist. Only all pharmacists in the Big Town take their lunch between 1pm and 2pm.  “When can you guys make it?  OK.  That’s when we’ll shut up shop.”  So. HE 45 it was. And some allergy-for-children medicine.

Back late, and Son 2, the Cooler King, was shut up in his cot in a darkened room, having a raging tantrum.  ”He’s been horrible,” said The Man. ”He wouldn’t eat his tea, he wouldn’t have a bath, and I only just got his teeth done.” I got Son 2 out, and he sat on my knee, quietly panting, his head against me.  I took him into the other bedroom. Son 1 had a French lesson today, and was singing something about quelle couleurs.  The Man and I were baffled by the verse: Hoar, jaune, bleu, vert. We eventually worked out that the problem was our dodgy accents. Our rouge features the same sound as kangaroo.  Son 1’s has a throaty soft French “r” and a “g” that rolls into the “j” of “jaune.” I gave him the anti-allergy medicine. And then read the ingredients. Sugar and alcohol.  Nice.  I really want to give that to my five-year-old.

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.

1.  The Gates Of Dawn

2.  Dulce Domum

3.  Wayfarers All

I am really not well.  Weak as a kitten, hurting head full of snot, racking cough, sore chest, sore throat and ears that crack horribly everytime I swallow. I could prove it was swine flu if I could be bothered to look for our thermometer.   In the meantime I’ll assume it’s just the cold I get every time I take any leave. It’s not helped by a lack of sleep. I went out last night to our book club, and got to bed about midnight. Then I woke at 5am, my head thumping. Son 1 aged 4y 11m arrived.  I tried to get him back to sleep, and at 6am crept downstairs to make a vast pot of coffee - I’m a keen believer in caffeine for colds.  It wasn’t quite dawn, so I took my coffee to sit in the bay window and watch the sun come up over the river.  A shadow flitted in. Son 1.  We put cushions on the window seat, and hauled one of Nanna’s big blankets over ourselves to keep warm.  Camping. Son 1 loved it and snuggled up to me. We watched vans and cars drive by.  We watched the sky lighten.  “I’m bored with camping,” said Son 1 after 15 minutes.

The Man’s sunflower is now the largest, and Son 1 and I have claimed it as Ours. A yellow flower has today started to appear.  Son 1 and Wonder Nanny played pirates. Son 2 aged 23m and I went outside. He wanted to play with Wah Wah, so I put him in his swimsuit, boiled a kettle, squeezed in some washing up liquid and warmed up the rainwater for him.  I went and got myself a garden cushion so I could sit and watch him. “More,” said Son 2, trotting off to bring out all the others, one by one.  As soon as Son 1 saw the bubbles he was out there too.  Adding compost to make a potion.  The parcel for the Scooby party arrived, and Son 1 was almost sick with excitement. Wonder Nanny made minestrone soup.  We had lunch. Son 2 and I went for a sleep. 

We woke up at 3pm, and an old friend was downstairs with Wonder Nanny and Son 1.  Just on Wednesday i was looking back to Breastfeeding Group nearly five years ago, at the July baby, the September baby and the October baby. There was also an August baby, the little girl, just five, playing with Son 1, whom we haven’t seen for nearly a year.  The Man came back from The Boat and we went crabbing.  Son 2 demanded I take him to the riverside beach just as the others hauled in crab 14 to break our record. Another family joined the others, but Son 2 and I walked round to the low tide beach.  It’s covered in broken glass.  “Son 2 just pick up the shells or the stones NOT THE GLASS.”  Son 2 kept picking up the glass. The water’s edge was glass free, so I took him there,  me keeping his reins on, him with his dungarees rolled up. Son 1 joined us, but ran in the sea with his trousers on “Take them OFF! Look, you hold Son 2’s reins and I’ll help you.”  I pulled off his trousers. I turned round. He’d let go Son 2’s reins and Son 2 had strode out into the river, standing hip-high in the water,  looking back at me.   Son 1 danced in the water, naked from the waist down.  His five year old friend gazed longingly after him. “Son 1 come back! It’s not fair on Son 2 or Your Friend!”  I promised him we would come back in our swimming costumes one day and both go in. At bedtime he was so tired he lay in his bed while I was singing to Son 2. When I’d finished Son 2’s night-nights, Son 1 was fast asleep.

1.  Jamming Till The Break Of Dawn

2.  Hotter Than July

3.  Rhythms In The Park

Too Darn Hot. The Man padded up and down the stairs in the night, a great, uncomfortable bear with a sore back, sore ankle and a bad case of overheating. Son 1 aged 4y 9m arrived in The Big Bed at 3am. “My room is too hot.”  His room was too hot. I’d closed the door to shut out the light to try to keep the little beggar in bed first thing in the morning.  I heard Son 2 aged 21m roaring “Mummeee!” The Man’s in there, I thought, he can get him up. Then grizzling: “I’s dhuk!” “I’s dhuk!” Oh God, I thought, scrabbling up. Where’s he got himself stuck… has he fallen in his cot… is he ok… He was in the Double Bed. The Man had him in a cuddled half-Nelson to keep stop him snaking off in his sleeping bag. “Dhuk!” “Dhuk!”  

We went to the Rockpool Beach to meet a Wednesday Mother and her three and a half year old.  Incredibly hot.  The tide was on its way in, so we only had a strip of rock and sand… which we more or less filled with two pushchairs and a beach mat.  Son 2 played with water, Son 1 was crotchety, I looked for cowries and found three.      The Wednesday Mum has a spirited child, and is enjoying my new childcare book,  “Honey I Wrecked The Kids,” so much she plans to get her own.  Drop The Rope is our new motto (for when you are in a tug-of-war power struggle with a child…) 

Son 1’s Nursery was holding a Pirate Afternoon, and he wanted to go. So. We went for ice creams, stopped off at The House for his Captain Hook costume, and drove over to The Big Town.  We dropped him off and Son 2 and I went to play in The Park. I had visions of us having Wonder Nanny-style hours of play together.  He wanted to watch teenagers playing tennis.  He grasped the principles at once, saying loud ”Uh-oh”s every time they fluffed a shot or hit the net.  He picked up feathers (Feh Feh,) pointed at dogs, had a little swing and played on the slide ladder. He wouldn’t go on the slide. “Hot.” “It isn’t hot darling, feel it.” Wouldn’t touch it. “Hot.”  Clearly a hot slide issue on another day, at another playground. I had some iced water in a flask and I poured him some.  Not interested in the water. Very interested in pressing the buttons on the top of the flask and pouring it out. Two hours later we picked up an exhausted Son 1 and went home.  The boys watched Ice Age 2 while The Man and I made stir fry.  “Mummy!” called Son 1. “Son 2’s drawing on your chair.” I sprang up the stairs. “What with?” “Pen.” Does anyone know how to get biro out of leather?   They came down for tea.  I’d cleaned the kitchen floor in the morning before we left.  Son 2 ate his rice with his fingers. He got one grain in his mouth for every 17 he dropped on the floor.    AFter, they played in the back yard. Son 2 took off the drain covers and dropped balls down the pipe. When they were finally asleep, I went for a hot, humid run.

1.  Words

2.  Pictures

3.  Action

I woke at 4am and couldn’t go back to sleep.  At 5am I went downstairs with Vikram Seth’s Two Lives.  A Wednesday Mother is running her book club this month and we are all reading it so we can go along.  A Suitable Boy defeated me.  I can’t remember why, especially as I’m really enjoying this one.  And I’m usually good at persevering.  I think the only other one I abandoned, bored, baffled and bewildered, was Ulysses.  One miserable summer when I decided I would only read mind-enriching work.  I escaped into  Harlan Coben and wouldn’t come out for months afterwards.   The Man came down at 0530, and then decided he’d have another go at going back to sleep.  And next thing I heard from upstairs was the shower running. 

Son 1 aged 4y 6m wet the bed and Son 2 aged 18m did a mighty poo that went through his pyjamas.  The Man showered Son 1 and stripped the bed while I pressure-washed Son 2.  Into the bath together.  Two shiny wet faces, looking up smiling. They’re grrrreat.  Our morning routine destroyed, we ended up in the lounge.  Son 1 was pulling out the train track; Son 2 was pressing the button to make the DVD drawer come out and go back in again.  And removing the Sky card.  And taking the DVDs out and putting them somewhere.  Poor Cars.  We’ve only had it five days and it has been posted somewhere that only Son 2 knows about.

We went to a Family Fun Day at the local secondary school.  Loads of activities, all free.  Son 1 loved it. He skateboarded and ran round with Best Friend.  Son 2 was harder.  I spent a lot of time trying to catch up the others with the Big Pram in a school riddled with stairs. And then packed it up in the car and carried him.  Son 1 was playing on the skateboards, but Son 2 just wanted to run around.  In an area where 10 year olds on BMXs were swooping back and forth between ramps.  He was tired, strong-willed, deeply interested, not old enough and more than I could manage.  We went inside.  Son 1 waited for half an hour for a dinosaur balloon from the Balloon Man. And then we went outside and Son 2 ran around, picking daisies and crunching up fallen leaves.  The sun blazed down.  Son 1 stripped to his pants and played with Best Friend.  His Mother and I finally got to sit on the grass.  Until Son 2 spotted a gap between some classrooms and started his usual bid for freedom.  

I put Son 1 to bed, lying next to him.  And fell asleep.  The Man woke me when he went to bed at 11pm.  I still needed to work… and stopped at 1am.

1.  Red Eye

2.   Red Nose

3.  Red Letter Day

Son 1 aged 4y 5m is the night waker now.  We’ve drilled him out of coming into our bed, so he just lies awake shouting until I turn up or he dozes off again.  0130 this morning, and then I couldn’t get back to sleep.   Son 2 aged 18m was perfect.  Not a peep from pillowdown to sun up.  The Office was in Eighties clothes For Charity today.  I can’t remember when it last took me so long to decide what to wear.  There was a real risk I would turn up in 80s wear and no-one would realise.  I settled on a Fun Boy 83 tee shirt and white mules.

I also put the Captain Hook outfit in the car in case we got to Nursery, and once again, everyone was wearing something funny for money except Son 1.  All in uniform.  One little girl walked in clutching two red noses.  The Office was very Red Nose.  The Big Town was very Red Nose.  I made a hair appointment and they were all Red Nosing.  I went to TK Maxx at lunchtime and they were all at it.  People were walking round with their faces made up, jangling buckets.  When I picked Son 1 up, he wanted a Red Nose.  “Mrs Nursery Teacher says you can get them anywhere.”  ”You can, I’ve seen heaps today, we’ll get one on the way home,” I said.  Tesco.  Nope.  Shell garage. Nope. Co-op. Nope.  MacDonald’s.  Nope.  “Red noses, red noses, red noses,” sang Son 1 annoyingly in the back.  “We’ll get one from Oxfam tomorrow,” I said.  He wailed.

The Wednesday Mums and I went out for a drink when I’d finished work this evening.  This is a Good Thing as we are rubbish at getting out.  Topics of conversation… children… Northern Ireland, the state of the economy, fitness, families, Doing Everything.  It is Good To Get Out.

1.  Manoeuvres In The Dark

2.  Jumping

3.  Jamming

i slept badly, got up in the end and did about 2 hours’ Office work in the middle of the night.  Not a good sign.  I got back to sleep and then Son 1 aged 4y 1m appeared and clambered into my side of the bed.  “You’llhavetoclimbover,” I mumbled, unable to move.  He climbed over, The Man got out the other side.  Head on the pillow, next to our heads.  Legs pointing downwards.  That is how you get 3 in a bed, Son 1.  If you continually insist on sleeping with your head against Mummy and your feet against Daddy then one of your parents can’t stay.    

Son 2 aged 14m was up at 0630.  I am craving time with him at the moment, so it’s great it’s the weekend.  A Nursery Day for Son 1, so another brisk take-no-prisoners-zoom-out-the-house morning.  The journey was fine, we got there in plenty of time and parked near the mushrooms, with Son 1 skipping and jumping along the path, making fun noises, skidding on the mud, stopping to peer into tree trunks and trace out the letters on the road signs.  Smiling and laughing “Look at me, I can jump as high as that branch”  Jump.  About two inches.  Full of joy, he’s an absolute delight.

Late to get him again. In the car on the way home he sang: “I’m happy all day, happy all night.  Happy, happy happy happy.  Sometimes I’m sad, sometimes I’m cross, but I’m happy happy happy all day.”  “That’s a lovely song, did you learn it at Nursery?”  “No, I maked it up.  I’m happy all day, happy all night, sometimes there’s a frown on my face but it’s all right. I’m happy at my friends’ house, I’m happy in my house, I’m happy in my Nursery, I’m happy in boats, I’m happy in shops, I’m happy shopping.”  All the way home.  Jamming to himself.  We got back, I parked, he got out of the car and ran down The Terrace singing “I’m happy all day, I’m happy all night.” Went into the house, lay on the floor with his cheek on the lino and carried on singing.