1.  Never Land

2.  Creative Conflict

3.  A Whole New World

Son 2 aged 15m woke when The Man went up last night.  I couldn’t get him back to sleep.  Son 2 went in with The Man.  Son 1 aged 4y 3m woke screaming in the small hours I went downstairs and got in with him.  He still soothes himself by stroking my eyebrows and/or eyelashes when he’s tired, and I have to lie on my right side with my face towards him so he can reach them.    He slept, I dozed, until a whispered: “Mummy.  I need a poo.”  We read his new pop-up Peter Pan book till next door woke up.  The Man and I competed over who had had the worst night’s sleep.

The Man went shopping, I put Son 2 down for his nap and went up to where Son 1 was watching telly.  “Shall we paint your Power Rangers now?”  “No, I want to watch this.”  I got my paper.  “No.  No newspapers.  Watch telly with me.”  “Your telly is your fun, my paper is my fun.”  “Reading papers isn’t fun.  It’s stupid.”  We went downstairs and started to paint the Power Rangers.  Every time I mixed a colour for Son 1, he painted the plate we were using with it, rather than putting it on the Power Ranger.  After the third or fourth time of telling him, I started to get annoyed.  “Stop doing that. You’re wasting your paint and I just have to mix even more colour.”  He got cross with me for getting cross.  “Stop it.  You’re a grown up and I’m only a little boy and I don’t know.”  I was forgiven very soon.  “Mummy I don’t want to grow up.”  “Why not?”  “I want to stay with you forever.”   After our artistic differences and deep meaningful exchanges about our relationship, Son 2 woke up.  We had painted one Power Ranger blue, and the other… er… red.

I gave the boys lunch and let them have chocolate cake for pudding.  Hell unleashed.  Every atom in Son 1’s body zinged up and down, back and forth and round and round.  Son 2 juddered about shouting and falling down.  And they fought.  Stepping over the contents of the recycling box - Son 2 is enjoying putting lids on and taking them off milk bottles - the crayon pack from the bottom of the pram, and the bits of washing they’d dragged away from the laundry pile, I packed them up and took them out in the freezing Easterly.     Later we went down The Terrace to see some friends.  The Ones With Girls.  The house was tidy.  The toys were wooden.  Son 2 dived into the olives thinking they were grapes, spat one out, picked another, spat it out, picked another and then gave up and started stuffing them into my mouth.

1.  Just before the dawn

2.  Sunday morning party

3.  Lunch at Nanna’s

We did better this morning.  Both boys in their own beds at 0615, when Son 2 aged 1 called, and Son 1 aged 3y 11m up appeared instantly as soon as he heard us next door.  It’s the light of course.  We spent the summer with a tatty old blanket wedged into the top of the blind in Son 2’s room, asking ourselves, baffled, why he was waking at 5am.  And now it’s not dawn till 0630, guess what.  Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.     

Slightly more sedate getting out the house today.  We had a party, then over to Nanna’s for lunch.  It made a huge difference not having to pack a picnic, although I did put in milk, fromage frais, water, a jar and raisins for Son 2.  I have had now had the picnic bag out five days in a row, which has, oddly, pleased me.  I like to feel we’ve been gadding  about instead of dusting and straightening ornaments.  (And lordy lordy does it show.)  The party was great.  Son 1 charged around, chivvying, running, calling… playing with four or five of the friends from his Old Nursery.  Son 2 played on the slide, played with the swing ball, played in the sand pit, played with the bubbles, gazed at the balloons, balanced and wobbled on his feet - to admiring applause from the other mums, and had a blast.  Son 1 wore his Captain Hook outfit for face painting, with me thinking he would emerge with an eyepatch and a beard.  No.  A blue face with a black mask.   The Blue Power Ranger, apparently.  Maybe this is the week we move on from pirates.  

Then over to Nanna’s.  Very late.  Younger Sister had started warming up the food to start without us.  Son 1 said he wasn’t hungry.  Son 2 had eaten half a jar, strawberries, banana and various other nibbles.  So it was just the three of us.  “That’s everything except the sausages,” said Younger Sister.  “Sausages?” said Son 1. “Are they veggie sausages?”  “No,” said Nanna.  “They’re for you and me.”  Son 1 pulled up a chair.  Then Son 2 decided he wanted more lunch too, and ate the rest of his jar.    The two of them trashed Nanna’s lounge.  Son 1 got blue face paint on the front of  her sofa, Son 2 smeared vegetable noodles on the back.  Son 1 tried on all her glasses.  Son 2 tried biting the bulbs and the birdfood.  Son 1 went in the garden, Son 2 went up the stairs.  Son 1 threw the loo roll in the bath. Back home they had dips for tea.  Son 1 said “This pepper is really sweet, thank you mummy.” Son 2 got hummous everywhere, but enjoyed it.  I tried rinsing blue face paint out of Captain Hook’s lace and collar.