1.  Fungus

2.  Fertiliser

3.  Photos

A ridiculously long, complicated day, involving a drive over to The City which meant I wasn’t home till 8pm… then a quick night night to Son 1 aged 4y 10m and Son 2 aged 23 m, who’d been kept up specially, and then zooming out again for an Office Thing. We were up daftly early though, so I did have time to read to Son 2 this morning.  He pointed at a mushroom in a picture book. “Mush mush.”  Hmmm.  I spend hours each week patiently going through piles of children’s books with Son 2. They are very heavily centred on cartoon cats and dogs, jungles and farm animals, vehicles and babies. Mushrooms don’t really come into it.  I’ve told him what they are a couple of times - on the odd occasion he’s been through the veg box before I’ve had chance to put it away. Clearly a genius. Or possibly something to do with Wonder Nanny. 

I fetched the hairbrush to brush Son 2’s hair. “Me do,”  he said firmly.  And for the poppers on his sleepsuit.  He also wants to wee in the loo. Won’t use his potty. Doesn’t want to use the booster seat.  Just wants to stand up on the plastic step and point.  I went into the bathroom to see Son 1 and Son 2, starkers, Son 2 on the step and  Son 1 beside him gently holding Son 2’s willy while he weed in the loo.  Both with beaming smiles.  Sorry, but I’m leaving that one.  I’m very happy for Son 2 to toilet train himself, and skip all the extra bits of plastic Son 1 used. I still remember having to take the Big Chair Potty to the beach under the Big Pram, because he wouldn’t go in anything else. And I can remember packing a booster seat in the suitcases to take to Portugal.   But if he wants to wee standing up he can hold his own willy. You Do. 

The Man has had some holiday pictures sent to him by the Elegant Aunt. A lovely picture of all four of us sitting on a sofa in the bar area of the holiday village, and others taken in the cafe/pool area. The Man flipped back and forth between them. “Son 2 looks different in this one.  His hair’s longer…”  “No darling, ” I said as gently as I could. “This one - ” the family shot ” - was taken last year, in May 2008. This one -  ” - Son 2 and I, on the terrace, “was taken on this year’s holiday. He’s eight months old in that one, and 20  months old in this one.”

1. The Mushroom

2. A New Country

3. Strawberries

“Mummy wake up. I want to paint Nanna’s present.” 0600.  I ignored Son 1 aged 4y 8m. “I want to paint Nanna’s present.  Now.” I didn’t open my eyes. “You’renotsupposedtopaintit,” I mumbled. Itjuststandsinthegardenandchangescolourwiththeweather.” He dropped his full weight on my stomach. “Pack it in! Go away and find Daddy!  Now!”  Nanna’s present is an enormous faux-stone mushroom.  It weighs a tonne, and a colleague carried it from the Trade Show to the car last night. Only when I heaved it into the house did I realise it must have nearly killed him.  The mushroom is in two parts. The stalk, and the cap, which is shaped like a squashed cartoon fireman’s helmet and face.  Son 1 chose it.  It is Very Him.

We kind of planned to take The Boat out on its 2009 maiden voyage, but we didn’t like the forecast. Again. So we drove to the Peacock Playground to meet some Wednesday Friends.  ”And why have we got Nelson in the back?”  asked The Man. He has been away too long.  Son 1, in full Captain Hook.  He chased the Brothers around the playground, and they chased him.  Son 2 aged 20m was Very Tired and very clingy.  A peacock came up to peck for picnic leftovers and Son 2 was terrified.  I crawled through the Big Tunnel with him, three times.  I liked crawling through The Tunnel, just like on Swimming Pool days I like whizzing down the Flume, and at Fairs I like going on Merry-Go-Rounds.  All part of exploring and enjoying this Kiddie Country place that I never even registered for 30 years.

We traipsed round the garden, with Son 2 howling in plank-boy outrage every time we tried to put him in the Big Pram. Son 1 and The Brothers played Pooh Sticks where the path crossed the stream.  Only I don’t remember Pooh and Piglet ripping up the riverbank plants to play.  We moved them on.  We left at 3, and then hared over to see Son 2’s Godmother, who was having Bubbles and Strawberry Scones. Son 1, Son 2 and The Man headed out into the garden, where Son 2 sat on the drainguards and posted pebbles through the grids.   Son 2 gathered fans; Son 1 couldn’t keep away from Son 2’s teenage Godbrother and Godsister.  Back home they ate salmon and new potatoes and carrots.  We were late for teatime again, and the boys were late for bed.  “I love you, darling, I’ll come and see you before I go to bed,” I said, as usual, to Son 1 as I was leaving him.  “I love you Mummy. I’ll come and see you when you’re in bed,” he smiled. “Well make sure you don’t wake me up,” I said.