1.  Start A Revolution

2.  Summertime’s In Bloom

3.  A Better Place To Play

The Man has my cold. He is Very Ill Indeed.  All he could manage this morning was getting himself to work, so  I did breakfastanddressingandtidyingupandcleaningupandwashingandteethandmakingpackedlunches.  Poor old him.  Imagine getting it this bad after only one day.  I really am very lucky that I’ve been able to keep going through the whole week I’ve had it. The dentist rang. I have an appointment tomorrow morning, and so does Son 1 aged 4y 11m.  I made this appointment in February.  When I was in pre-school world. Tomorrow is Son 1’s first day at school.  I rang them. “Bring him in when you’ve finished,” they said.

We’d arranged to meet The Wednesday Friends on the Beach By The Garden. MAcs and wellies, because the forecast was rain. But we just wanted to get outside. By the time I’d finished all my jobs though, we were very late. And it was raining very hard. The others had de-camped into the Beach Cafe.  We arrived, Son 1 in full Captain Hook, Son 2 aged 23m barely awake. Six five-and-under boys in a cafe. Didn’t work. We abandoned it.  Best Friend and Little Brother came here, the other Wednesday Family went home.  The boys played well.  It rained and rained. When it came for home time, Son 1 tried to persuade Best Friend to stay. ”This is the funnest house. We haven’t got all the toys out yet.”  He was the Child Catcher. He cried when they left.

And this evening I became The Terrifying Mother Who Invites The Whole Class To Parties. In my defence… these are September birthdays. Last year I invited one boy from Nursery who’d already invited Son 1 to something, and then spent the rest of the year feeling guilty every time another invitation appeared.  This year they can all come if they like, hospitality done and dusted, hooray hooray.  And Son 1 starts school tomorrow.  Herein endeth the pre-school years.  And our Wednesdays together.  Pang, Pang, Go Away.  I have done my best.     

1. The Big Sleep

2. The Party

3. The Bath

Son 2 aged 7m hasn’t slept for any decent amount of time in the day since Tuesday.  So this morning he woke up, fed, played with Son 1 aged 3 and a half, watched telly with Son 1 and The Man, read a book with me, and then went back to sleep.  For nearly 3 hours.  I went into weekend cook-ahead mode, and Widow Twankie mode and clear up mode while  The Man took Son 1 to his swimming lesson.   Son 2 was on the double bed, propped on a feeding pillow with the quilt on him in a darkened room. I really am going to have to take him to a cranial osteopath.  He presses his hand to his forehead when he’s tired and screams and screams.  

Son 1 wouldn’t go to sleep, so he ended up overtired at this afternoon’s party.  We managed to be 3/4 hour early because I got the time wrong.  Being early is definitely a Best Three Thing - I simply can’t manage it.  A little bit of my brain always knows there’s a little bit of time there that I could try and cram something else in.  Then Son 1 wanted the loo and, while he was weeing was distracted by Son 2 and weed over the floor, wall and in the Birthday Boy’s Older Brother’s doctor’s case.   (Because Son 1 took it in there.  And left it open next to the loo. And no, I didn’t spot the potential hazard.) Anyway, Son 1 was so tired he was climbing down from the party table and lying on the floor before the arrival of chocolate fingers and cake… Son 2 was grizzling and bawling, bawling and grizzling, and I was watching in envy as the hostess plonked herself on a chair outside her front door and lit up. 

Had a good run, and decided that after a week in which I’ve worked my rump off both at The Office and at home I would have a bubble bath.  It was lovely.  Till Son 2 woke up and would not not not settle for The Man.  Son 2 is phenomenal.  He’s nearly dead from tiredness and yet there is nothing that will make him sleep.  Apart from a breast feed - and quite often that doesn’t work either. So the Positive Note to end on is that on Monday I will find him a cranial osteopath.