1.  Reception

2.  Remembrance

3.  Remedies

“Thankyou Mummy for waking me up when Daddy got back.”  In the middle of the night.  Son 1 aged 4y 5m, climbing into the bed. Being sarcastic.  No memory of my carrying him down two flights of stairs for Daddy cuddles.   The Man being back is a Good Thing.  Yesterday marked 22 years of us Being Together.  One day Son 2 aged 17m will feel special because his parents were together for well over 20 years before he was born….  Two pairs of hands, so things were easier, although kick off was still 0615.   Son 1 was excited, Son 2 was happy but clingy.  Now both parents were around, he wasn’t going to get fobbed off with the Second Best one.  

We went to a Garden with a friend and her 3 year old.  There were nature trails for the children with treasure hunts, and we needed seaweed from the beach, so we trailed down the long steep woodland.  Son 2 walked a bit, was carried a bit, picked up gravel a bit.  Son 1 and 3 year old friend found sticks and fought, and looked in ponds for fish and frogs, and trampled through bamboo clumps.  Son 1 fell over and smashed his nose and forehead on the path.  The sky was blue, the sun was warm, there were few other visitors.  The big pond at the bottom of the valley was filled with foot-long rainbow trout, clamouring underneath a viewing platform, suggesting many packed lunches have headed their way.  Last time I’d stood there I was miscarrying Son 1 and a half.  The memories were vivid. Who we were with.  Son 1 aged 2y 2m in wellies, saying “I’m stuck!” when his foot was jammed between two rocks.   Holding his sticks all the way down.  The bleak, hopeless, misery.  We didn’t get onto the beach that time, so the vivid flashback vanished as we walked up and down the steps. All three boys loved the seashore.  Son 1 and his friend charged around, climbed rocks and balanced on walls.  Son 2 scrunched on the shingle and headed, time and time again, for the sea.   

Back home again and we were all exhausted.  Son 1 and I watched Madagascar.  Son 2 played “beds,” laughing, giggling, cuddling Mummy, and finally pulled out the Thomas Wooden Railway.  Son 1 joined us and we built a track and Son 2 put electric trains on it and added carriages.  He pushed the engines up the bridge and watched intently as they rolled down the other side.  At tea time I made pizza while they both went out into our miniscule yard with The Man, who was trying to put an artificial grass playsurface down across the lethal concrete.  Son 1 rushed for his toy tool set,  hammmered walls and tried to fit pieces of astroturf together.  He was in raptures, helping Daddy, playing with his tools, knowing what the job was.   Son 2 tottered about and fell over a lot.  They were both asleep in minutes of us getting them in their beds.

1.   Shorter Nights

2.   Lovely Morning

3.   Precious Days

Son 2 aged 17m woke at 1130 last night, just after I’d gone to bed.  He screamed and I let him.  I hated it. It went on forever.  But I’ve been so tired, and I couldn’t help thinking that he had gone to sleep without a whimper for Wonder Nanny.    It was all for my benefit.  He roared.  He hollered himself hoarse.  He sobbed.  He shouted.  He woke Son 1 aged 4y 4m in the next room, who cried a bit for “Mummy” and then went back to sleep.  And then, finally, he stopped, and slept till morning.  So it was a Good Thing, especially in view of the amount of times recently either of us has slept with him.  But when I finally get some rest, I still may crack again.  Because I know he won’t Want His Mummy forever.

Blue skies, crisp winter sunshine, little or no wind. We went to a new beach.  The Town’s are sandy shingle/stoney sand.  We wanted wide expanses of golden sand.  We took: the beach bag (beach toys, sun suits, beach shoes, beach mat,) the beach tent, Son 1’s inflatable surf board, two changes of clothing, two towels, two pairs of wellies, jumpers, a massive packed lunch and the Big Pram.   Son 1 checked my packing.  Son 2 fell over and split his lip open again, for the third time. (Minor Injuries again.  They said they can’t do anything now; put Vaseline on it.)  We drove for 25 miles and the boys slept.   On arrival the car park was empty.  We loaded up the Big Pram like a sherpa’s mule and trundled over a bridge across a rushing stream.  Pooh Sticks.  We all got our sticks, we got ready for “Ready Steady Go” and Son 2 chucked his stick in.  Every time.  Basic Human Instinct.  Lean over fence, look down, get given a stick, throw it in the water.   Laugh.  

Son 2 had his lunch with Wonder Nanny, Son 1 and I climbed rocks.  He pushed my hand away, he said: “I can do it!” as I reached for him.  He slipped and said “Don’t worry Mummy” before I could hoik him up again.  He wanted to walk all round the edge of a tidal pool as the tide came in.  Next time, I said.  I wanted to help him down; he jumped without me.  Pang. Slipping Through My Fingers.   We put the Beach Tent up and had our lunch.  Son 1 decided he wanted his sun suit on so he could play in the sea.  I blew up his surf board and rolled up my trousers.  In he went.  Splashing, wading, kicking, lying down, falling off, getting soaked from chin to toe in water which was so cold it hurt my feet.   Son 2, also in his sun suit,  came for a splash with Wonder Nanny.  The boys played and played.  Son 2 started crying with cold, so back in the tent I dressed him.  Son 1 came out, also crying, also blue with teeth chattering.   We made a massive sandcastle.  Son 2 kept sitting in the moat, Son 1 did all the work patting the sides down.  We took pictures.  Son 1 kicked it flat.  17 days ago he was making snowmen.   We used everything we took, which is an extra bonus point for me.