1.  Reveille

2.  Rendezvous

3.  Muster

Hooray hooray. Both boys stayed in their own beds all night.  Son 1 aged 4y 4m lost a few points for waking up screaming at 11pm, but he’s still not well.  A croupy cough.  Severe nasal congestion.  And a temperature that shoots up suddenly and can barely be tent-pegged down again by big slugs of calpol and ibuprofen.  Son 2 aged 17m lost points for waking up when I tiptoed down at 5am for coffee, and then refusing to go back to sleep.  I put the light on to give him some calpol, and his eyes were wide open, his pupils huge and spookily darting back and forward in REM.  And at the same time he was gripping me so I couldn’t go.  He was instantly awake and alert.   I thought REM meant deep deep sleep.  Clearly Son 2 represents Man’s Next Evolutionary Leap.  Humans Who Need No Sleep. 

We decided on the Peacock Playground, and it was a Good Thing when I found the paperwork for the family membership after half an hour’s hunting. (Son 1, booted and coated and crunching on the gravel outside: “Are we giving up yet?” Me: “Of course not darling, it’ll turn up in a minute.”)  Recycling pile.  We arrived and played.  Weather fabulous.  Bright sunshine, spring garden.  Son 1 climbed and slid and rocked and rode.  Son 2 rode and tottered and crawled and swung.  Wonder Nanny had packed pitta, pepper and hummous, and the boys dived in.  A  beautiful peacock sauntered up looking for food.  We fed it pitta. Son 2 gave it pepper.  It was amazing in the sunlight.  Iridescent, shimmering blue, greeny golds, goldy greens, and on its back a fantastic vivid deep lime green. It wandered off, and our two slipped down from the table to follow it. Then a pack of eight year old boys chased it into the bushes.

We collected feathers.  Not the great big Event ones… but little ones, dotted and speckled in browns, greys and blacks, fluffy and white, very small with just a hint of brilliant blue.  We even have a couple of red-tipped ones from some Golden Pheasants/Lady Amhersts. Son 1 is going to make a peacock picture with them.  We have in fact collected enough for a New Hat for Mummy.  The peacocks were out in force. At one point there were nearly 20, mostly female, mostly young, on the lawn and moving like grazing animals.  “What’s the collective noun for a group of peacocks?” asked Wonder Nanny.  “A herd?”  A male suddenly spread his tail.  With his back turned to the girls.  “Mummy mummy!” Son 1 was jumping in excitement.  Son 2 ignored it all and watched a tractor and trailer.  He walked miles today.  Both boys slept deeply on the way home.  And as soon as we got in, Son 1’s temperature rocketed…

1.  Sleeping Through

2.  Sock Triumph

3.  Soft Touch

Son 2 aged 14m went down in his cot last night and stayed there until 0620 this morning.  Which last night gave me the tortured choice of check him and wake him up vs what if he’s dead?    I have never, ever, heard of or encountered anyone who sleeps as lightly as Son 2.  I swear the ting of a radiator, the click of a knee or the sound of a contact lens falling on the floor can wake him.   But we’re getting there.  A month ago I could only get him to sleep by lying on the bed next to him, and had to go to him each time he awoke in case he rolled off.  And he needed a grown up to sleep with him.  And now he’s doing ok on his own.  Unless your tummy rumbles…

I found the sock, hooray hooray.  A woman in a pinny, smoking a fag, watched me carefully as I scoured the Quay.  “I’m looking for a little boy sock,” I said. “We lost it in the dark last night.” “There’s a sock over there,” she said. “But it’s not a little boy’s.”  Yes it was.  Squodged, soaking, muddy and run over several times.   Yes I know it’s only a sock.  But inconvenience/annoyance of having to go back and look for it < inconvenience/annoyance of having five Nursery socks.  Forever.

The boys went to a play park with Wonder Nanny, and her Nanny Friend and her two charges… and then had them round this afternoon with the Thomas Wooden Railway boxes out.   A nightmare getting home from The Office.  A broken down bus on a single lane stretch and no escape from the stationary traffic.  Late late late.  Late for Wonder Nanny going home, late putting the boys to bed.  Son 2 is always first out of the bath, and then Son 1 aged 4 y 1m.  He wraps himself up in a big towel, and Son 2 helps me pat him dry.  Many, many giggles.