1.  Pampering

2.  Partying

3.  Parading

Son 2 aged 22m lies on his nappy mat, stinking.  I clear him up.  “Wipe,” he commands.  I can’t let him have one until he is Clean. Otherwise he will start wiping himself.  I give his nose a kiss. He pulls me down towards him. I rub noses back and forth, telling him “Eskimoses Rub Their Noses.” He hoots with laughter. “Again. Again. Again. “ 

We went to a Summer Party, at the home of some friends in The Country.   Parking in their field, a massive Bouncy Castle, and another newly-mown field for the children to play on, including a goal with loads of footballs, a water slide, a playhouse and a rocket launcher.   The friend, someone I worked with years ago, carried her six-month-old around. Gorgeous. And about the size of Son 2. I do hope he’s out of the 9 - 12 month clothing before he’s two. The Man was hungover, and felt better after many burgers and sausages.  Son 1 aged 4 y 10m ate one sausage and a piece of lettuce. Son 2 said “Cake!  Cake!” Father Jack-like. Son 1 sped in, along and up the Bouncy Castle a zillion times. Son 2 made it on his own.  Although when he got to the top of the climbing wall, he sat, waiting for me to climb through and up to help him.  I made it, several times, but was inelegant scrabbling down in my black linen frock. It took me back to the days when I slid down marquee roofs wearing fancy dress…

We came home, I dashed into town shopping, taking Son 2 with me, hoping he’d have a snooze in The Big Pram. Nope.  Then we were in The Carnival.  A friend gave us a lift, his partner had made the costumers. Marlin for Son 1, Dory for her son and Nemo for Son 2. We joined our partners in the parade, secondary schoolchildren also in costume, hauling a huge whale on a boat trailer.  We watched and waited while Vikings, Pirates, penguins, fairies and cyclists gathered.  The Town Band had dressed up like the Welsh Guards in Rourke’s Drift.  We set off. Son 2 refused to walk, but just stood, peering and everyone and everything.  We walked down a steep hill towards The Town.  I was worried our whale was going to break loose, ten-pin bowl its way through the carnival procession and leap over the buildings at the bottom and into the sea like Free Willy. Son 1 held hands with his 3 year old friend all the way round, and collected a fortune in their buckets for looking cute.    Ye Olde Sweetshoppe was open, so I bought 2 Childcatcher lollipops for the boys at the end. They all crunched up. Son 2 had green food colouring all round his mouth. High as kites and off their heads with tiredness and sugar, they zinged around. 

When we got home, I showed Son 2 his reflection in the hall mirror. “Who’s that?” I asked. “Son 2!” he said.  The little lamb can say his name. Sigh.

1.    Graffiti

2.    White Noise

3.    Performance

Son 2 aged 22m has scribbled in biro on my lovely leather chair again. See here for previous episode. http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/04/27/wheres-spot/  He was in the lounge with Son 1 aged 4y 10m, watching telly while I did my hair and make up.  A Wednesday Mum rang, Son 1 answered and brought the phone upstairs. I chatted - her car’s broken down so they couldn’t come on today’s planned outing - and went downstairs with the phone and Son 1.  “Dor!” said Son 2, happily, pointed at his artwork.  Black. Circles. He’s pressed hard, And he’s done crosses on the arms as well. I was livid. I held him at arm’s length, yelling at him for being naughty, took him upstairs, dumped him in his cot and closed the door.  I went downstairs, out of breath from stomping up too quickly.   I sorted the washing out. I put the washing on.  I heard a high-pitched wail from upstairs. I cleared up a bit in the kitchen.  After 5 full minutes (I never leave him more than two in case he climbs out. But I was cross) I went back upstairs and opened the door.  He was standing in the corner of the cot, his arms folded.  He smiled. “Dat! Up Dere!”  He pointed out of the window.  If you’re bored, standing in the corner of the cot you can see the squatters’ bungalow up the cliff behind us (see here for previous episode http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/07/25/cliffhanger/) On the doorstep, in front of their red door, sat a black cat.  He says he won’t draw on Mummy’s chair again.  And Mummy says she won’t leave a 22m old alone in a room with a leather chair and a biro.

We were going out to a Play Day in the Big Town.   I packed up the car, including the boys, and remembered my phone. On my way back I saw a neighbour, someone we see to talk to about twice a week. She had some time off last week, and she and her long-term partner had a low-key wedding. I was thrilled , and told Son 1 as soon as I got back in “I just saw Neighbour!  She and Partner have got married!” “I knew that already,” said Son matter-of-factly. “How did you know that?” “I saw her with Wonder Nanny and she told us then.” “But it’s really exciting! Why didn’t you tell me?” “I forgot.”  Oh God.  He’s such a bloke already.

All the Play Day parking was gone by the time we got there, and men in yellow jackets were telling people to drive three miles out of Town and get the Park And Ride.  I parked at The Office, well over half a mile away.  Son 2 wanted to get out of the Big Pram, Son 1 wanted to get in. But we were seeing some friends we hadn’t seen for ages http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2008/12/03/the-christmas-tree/ so I wanted to hurry.  The Play Day was in the Town Park.  Or the Town Paddy Field, as it should now be known after countless days of rain.  The ground was sodden and sopping. We found our friends. The big boys were shy of each other at first, Son 2 just wanted to get out of the Pram, the 2 year old wasn’t really up for a play.   We found some bouncy castles and they bounced. They ran off to the playground area and played on balances and slides. Son loved the sea saw. We had lunch and headed to the Marquee to see acrobats we’d last seen at The Freezing Fiesta http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/05/26/the-freezing-fiesta/.  They were very good.  Handstands, acrobatics, diablos, girls with sashes doing aerial ballet up in the roof.  A band, a clown, and fire-jugglers.  The fire-jugglers let great balls of flame roar upwards. The clown, casually juggling three burning sticks on the stage where the band were playing yelled: “No! Not in the tent!” at the fire-eaters.  Last time we saw them, he cleared children from underneath the aerial ballerinas half way through their act.  I do like their Health And Safety style.   We went to the playground, the Big Boys played on the roundabout. “And me! And me!” cried Son 2.  There was a posse of bigger children on the roundabout. “Can he go in the middle?” I asked them. “Slowly, slowly, spin it slowly” they hissed to each other.  “Jack! Mind that baby!” barked a father from the bus shelter. “It’s ok,” I called back. “They’re being very good.”  Son 2 was spun slowly.  I took him out. He cried and reached back for it.  “Can we sit on the outside and I’ll spin it?” I asked the posse.  They assented.  I span us round and round. I took him off when I was dizzy.  The posse piled back on and whizzed it round like a drill bit.  We bought cold drinks, and went back to the tents. There was a circus workshop on. Son 1 and his friend span sticks round and round like majorettes. Son 2 was fascinated by a diablo.  He held the sticks, I helped him get it on the string… he tried to throw it off.  Guess what I used to call him in his reflux days.