1.  Big Boys

2.  New Boys

3.  Hello Boys

The Rat Man says we can ring him if we find any more bodies, and he will come and clear them up.  This is a Good Thing, as The Man has left on another Business Trip. Unfortunately, The Man cannot remember which Rat Man we are using.  He found him in the Yellow Pages, he’s very nice, and he’s been back in his discreet, unmarked van to check his boxes and put more toxic waste in them.  But frankly I’d tolerate a van saying THIS HOUSE HAS RATS with a big arrow pointing at us if  it meant his mobile number was stencilled on the side as well.   The Man left at 3am, so yet again I am wandering around like a zombie.  Son 1 aged 5y 1m ended up in the Big Bed, and came down shortly after I got up.  He used to flit around like a little wraith.  He now sounds like a team of rugby players coming down the stairs. It was slightly spooky listening to him… knowing there was no other adult in the house and yet hearing great clunking footsteps powering down. And then a little figure in Lightning McQueen pyjamas pads in, holding his willy and rubbing his eyes. 

I had to go to The City, which is the best part of a two-hour drive away. When I’d finished, I went into The Shopping Centre, because I’d promised Son 1 I’d go to the Disney Shop to look for squirty toys to take on holiday.  And then… Hold The Front Page, Don’t Faint, Shoot Me Down In Flames… they had a set of Peter Pan figures.  Including The Children and The Dog.  This is an Excellent Thing.  I have spent hours on the internet, trying to find the children for Son 1. I have trailed around Disney Shops (Oxford Street: “Yes we’ve got them upstairs because they’re not very popular.” 20 mins later: “Sorry we’ve sold out.”)  We have plastic Peters in several sizes, a finger puppet Peter and Wendy, three or four Captain Hooks, a fair few crocodiles, several handfuls of  Indians and Lost Boys and pirates, pirates everywhere.   Son 1’s Peter Pan obsession began with a charity shop Disney book I bought for 49p in Feb 2007. He got his first Peter Pan things the following Christmas, and he has longed for John and Michael ever since.  So what I’m saying is, yes I bought him yet another toy.  No, I haven’t thrown out/sorted out any of his old ones. And yes, Son 2 aged 2y 1m had to have a Nemo squirty toy bath set to be fair. 

There were comments about more presents from Granny and Grandad, who were waiting with the boys because I was way too late for Wonder Nanny.  Never mind. The Best Thing today was The New Swimming Costume. Not the one I wanted, not one I would have picked out… but it’s slimming, it fits nicely and it was in the sale.  I was excited for a few minutes because the label said 14E.  In better light, I realised that was the Australian sizing. I’d been worried I was stuck with the skanky baggy swimsuit for the holiday. I got put off the Bravissimo website because I needed to think of a password. (Really sorry, can’t. Got a pile of passwords to remember anyway, and a head so full of Other Stuff that not one more fact can be jemmied in. )  I tried another website. Ordered a beautiful costume on Wednesday. Ticked the box for faster postage to beat the strikes. And got an email saying they’re not expecting them in till next week. Today really was my Last Chance.  I don’t think I’ve worn a halter neck in my life but Granny thinks it’s great.

1.   The Elephant’s Spout

2.   Never Land

3.   Happy Feet

Son 1, aged 4y 5m, having stung us for a Power Ranger outfit, has lost interest in his sticker chart and getting stars for staying in his own bed.  I woke up Whenever, and he was on my side while I was squodged up in the middle.  Son 2 aged 17m woke yelling at 4am, so I went down and helped him back to sleep, and then slept in Son 1’s bed.  Son 1 came climbing in early… and then went into Son 2 when he heard him waking up and crying.  The Man went to him, and I stayed in bed, grimly clinging on till I HAD to get up.  Son 2 cried.  ”I’m taking Son 2 downstairs; he’s hungry,” The Man proclaimed.  Son 1 stood at the top of the landing and bellowed down:  “He’s not hungry - he just wants his Mummy!”  In the shower, Son 2 has completely perfected the art of tipping the water in the top of the Winnie The Pooh tower so it spouts out of the elephant’s trunk at the bottom.  A Christmas Present I picked up in TK MAxx.  18m+.  He has mastered it a week early.  Clearly a Gifted Child.

Son 2 and I snugged up on the double bed to get him to sleep for his morning nap - big treat - while Son 1 watched a DVD.  He chose Peter Pan, and got out the big Pirate Ship, the Lost Boys’ raft and the Indian Camp.  When he chose to wear his Power Ranger outfit to his party on Saturday, I had a mild Pang, feeling we were At Last waving bye bye to the pirates.   Here they are, back already.  We went round to Best Friend’s house for lunch and a play.  Best Friend decided he and Son 1 weren’t friends any more.  Because Son 1 never lets him be the Captain.  After lunch they finally make up and normal service was resumed.  And then Best Friend’s Little Brother put on a film.  Return to Neverland.

Back home Son 1 played pirates, Son 2 played with him.  We bought all Son 1’s pirate stuff when Son 2 was about 3 or 4 m old.  We didn’t know he’d grow up wanting to chew it or pull it to pieces or break bits off.  Nanna came round.  Son 2 played with the Thomas Wooden Railway.  I tried to watch the end of Happy Feet, but failed, and so finally watched it all the way through after the boys had gone to bed.  One of the penguins has a Couch Of Permanent Indulgence.  So do I.  This is Blog 300.  I started it as a bit of CBT - the idea being if you write down the good things that happen, you’ll train your brain off the thinking that makes you ill.  It works.  I look for moments that I like each day… and I’m also much better at dealing with other Life and Office stuff.  And, if I ever backed this up,  I’d have  nearly a year’s worth of little snapshots of the boys’ life.  I’m sure they’ll thank me for it later.

1.  The Flight

2.  The Pirate Ship

3.  Do You Believe In Fairies? 

The Man is not coming back today.  “The aeroplanes are full,” as I told Son 1 aged 4yr 3m this morning.  Howl.  “I want his body!” Wail. ”I want his T-shirt!” Curl up on the floor.  At that moment, The Man rang.  Son 1 gave him both barrels, fired straight at the guilto-plexus. Until Son 2 aged 16m snatched the phone from him, and waddled back and forth, chattering gibberish while Son 1 ululated in the corner.  Son 1’s day bumped along the bottom.  His Best Friend couldn’t come round because his Mother is ill.  Howl. Wail.  Curl.  His longed-for Scooby Do and the Pirates DVD didn’t come, despite a Royal Mail van parking outside and my calling “Son 1! Your parcel’s here!”  The driver smoked a fag, picked up a postman in the rain and pulled away.  Howl. Wail. Curl.

On The Bright Side.  A little 3 year old Friend and his Mother came round, and the boys played.   The Captain Hook Ship and The Lost Boys’ Raft stayed out - they can’t survive the wildebeest stampede that is 5 small boys at play… but three is manageable, so I didn’t hide them.    After they left Son 2 had a nap and a colleague from The Office came round, bringing biscuits and a chocolate cake for Son 1.  The colleague wanted to see the new dress and shoes I bought in The Sales.  I left her with Son 1, dashed to the bedroom, dressed up and tottered down in my finery.  The colleague coo-ed.  Son 1 sprang from his chair and gave me a huge hug.  “Do I look like a Princess?” I asked.  He just laughed.  But he made me feel like one.

Nanna came.  Son 2 played with the electric James and Percy engines.  Son 1 lay on the window seat  spearing a Tinkerbell finger puppet with 2 Woolies Ghost Pirates.  Nanna parked close to the house. I’ve been thanking the Parking Fairy when I get a space near.   “Is the Parking Fairy real?” asked Son 1.  “No,” I said. “It’s just Mummy’s bit of fun.”  Although, oddly, since I’ve been thanking the Parking Fairy, I’ve been able to park a lot closer to the house.  I was telling Nanna this when Son 1said “I don’t believe in fairies.”  “Oh no!” I said.  “Quick, clap.  Otherwise a fairy will…”  Son 1 made a spiral motion with his finger and pointed to the floor.  We clapped.  Son 2 joined in. Son 1 lay on his back giggling.  “I don’t believe in fairies”  Mad clapping, mad laughing.  “I don’t believe in fairies.” Mad clapping. Mad laughing.  Repeated many times.  Until: “Son 1 will you pack it in. What am I going to do if the fairy who - ” spiral motion, point to the floor ” - is the Parking Fairy?”