1.  Words

2.  Pictures

3.  Action

I woke at 4am and couldn’t go back to sleep.  At 5am I went downstairs with Vikram Seth’s Two Lives.  A Wednesday Mother is running her book club this month and we are all reading it so we can go along.  A Suitable Boy defeated me.  I can’t remember why, especially as I’m really enjoying this one.  And I’m usually good at persevering.  I think the only other one I abandoned, bored, baffled and bewildered, was Ulysses.  One miserable summer when I decided I would only read mind-enriching work.  I escaped into  Harlan Coben and wouldn’t come out for months afterwards.   The Man came down at 0530, and then decided he’d have another go at going back to sleep.  And next thing I heard from upstairs was the shower running. 

Son 1 aged 4y 6m wet the bed and Son 2 aged 18m did a mighty poo that went through his pyjamas.  The Man showered Son 1 and stripped the bed while I pressure-washed Son 2.  Into the bath together.  Two shiny wet faces, looking up smiling. They’re grrrreat.  Our morning routine destroyed, we ended up in the lounge.  Son 1 was pulling out the train track; Son 2 was pressing the button to make the DVD drawer come out and go back in again.  And removing the Sky card.  And taking the DVDs out and putting them somewhere.  Poor Cars.  We’ve only had it five days and it has been posted somewhere that only Son 2 knows about.

We went to a Family Fun Day at the local secondary school.  Loads of activities, all free.  Son 1 loved it. He skateboarded and ran round with Best Friend.  Son 2 was harder.  I spent a lot of time trying to catch up the others with the Big Pram in a school riddled with stairs. And then packed it up in the car and carried him.  Son 1 was playing on the skateboards, but Son 2 just wanted to run around.  In an area where 10 year olds on BMXs were swooping back and forth between ramps.  He was tired, strong-willed, deeply interested, not old enough and more than I could manage.  We went inside.  Son 1 waited for half an hour for a dinosaur balloon from the Balloon Man. And then we went outside and Son 2 ran around, picking daisies and crunching up fallen leaves.  The sun blazed down.  Son 1 stripped to his pants and played with Best Friend.  His Mother and I finally got to sit on the grass.  Until Son 2 spotted a gap between some classrooms and started his usual bid for freedom.  

I put Son 1 to bed, lying next to him.  And fell asleep.  The Man woke me when he went to bed at 11pm.  I still needed to work… and stopped at 1am.

1.  Red Eye

2.   Red Nose

3.  Red Letter Day

Son 1 aged 4y 5m is the night waker now.  We’ve drilled him out of coming into our bed, so he just lies awake shouting until I turn up or he dozes off again.  0130 this morning, and then I couldn’t get back to sleep.   Son 2 aged 18m was perfect.  Not a peep from pillowdown to sun up.  The Office was in Eighties clothes For Charity today.  I can’t remember when it last took me so long to decide what to wear.  There was a real risk I would turn up in 80s wear and no-one would realise.  I settled on a Fun Boy 83 tee shirt and white mules.

I also put the Captain Hook outfit in the car in case we got to Nursery, and once again, everyone was wearing something funny for money except Son 1.  All in uniform.  One little girl walked in clutching two red noses.  The Office was very Red Nose.  The Big Town was very Red Nose.  I made a hair appointment and they were all Red Nosing.  I went to TK Maxx at lunchtime and they were all at it.  People were walking round with their faces made up, jangling buckets.  When I picked Son 1 up, he wanted a Red Nose.  “Mrs Nursery Teacher says you can get them anywhere.”  ”You can, I’ve seen heaps today, we’ll get one on the way home,” I said.  Tesco.  Nope.  Shell garage. Nope. Co-op. Nope.  MacDonald’s.  Nope.  “Red noses, red noses, red noses,” sang Son 1 annoyingly in the back.  “We’ll get one from Oxfam tomorrow,” I said.  He wailed.

The Wednesday Mums and I went out for a drink when I’d finished work this evening.  This is a Good Thing as we are rubbish at getting out.  Topics of conversation… children… Northern Ireland, the state of the economy, fitness, families, Doing Everything.  It is Good To Get Out.

1.  Capitulation

2.  Corruption

3.  Celebration

A New Family Rule.  If Little Children Want To Sleep With Their Parents They Can.  Son 1 aged 4y 4m thinks this is good idea.  “Is this because of me?”  “Yes,” I said.  No.  It’s because we had the most wretched night with Son 2 aged 16m.  Plot summary:  he wanted to lie in the big bed with a grown up;  I wanted him to sleep in his cot.    Neither The Man nor I sleep particularly well when we have a child with us.  And we both get grumpy when we don’t sleep.  So when Son 2 stood up and bayed at 2315, I tried to get him back to sleep.  He roared.  He shouted till his voice went hoarse.  He screamed and screeched and shrieked.  He woke Son 1.  He finally stopped at 1am.  i put Son 1 back in his bed.  Made hot chocolate.  And was then worried that something might be wrong with Son 2 so went into his room.  In the early hours he awoke again, and I just popped him into bed with me.  He went straight back to sleep.

We had Horrid Henry again on the way to Nursery.  I am going to retire him.  Too many: “Bor-ring”s and raspberries from Son 1.  I like to think a “You’re terrible parents” was rooted in Horrid Henry, rather than any seriously thought-through conclusion.  So at Ottakars I began the re-education programme.  We now have Peter Pan, Roald Dahl, and Stories For Five Year Olds.   Back from The Office, I walked in as Son 1 had just hit Son 2.  Oh somehow he got his new CDs.  “I hope you choose Peter Pan for us to listen to tomorrow,” I said.  “Which one do you want to hear?”  “Peter Pan,” said Son 1.  Hooray hooray.  We may yet get him back from Horrid Henry.

Reading to Son 1 after bathtime, I tried to get any information at all from him about his day at Nursery.  “Who did you sit with at lunch?”  “Can’t remember.”  “What did you do that was fun?” “Nothing.” ”What was your favourite bit of the day?”  “When Mummy came home.”  He deserved every one of those new CDs.

1. Early Bird

2. Mocking Bird

3. Homing Pigeon

Son 2 aged 14m woke at 0425am, calling for me. The insistent, foghorn: waaaah waaaah waaaah. I’d gone to bed at midnight, so decided to give him 10 minutes. He realised I wasn’t coming straightaway, and lost his temper, arpeggio cries getting angrier. And then he went back to sleep. I think the sleeping has been better since he started walking. I got up at 0530, so we wouldn’t have a mad rush for Nursery. We still had a mad rush for Nursery.

I drove to the Whacking Great City (population 125x The Town’s) for The Office. 3 Hours + A fine, cold morning, but wet roads. The car I’ve only just taken through the car wash was covered in crud. Windscreen washers all the way. BC I went to WGC a lot. But I haven’t been since long before Son 2 was born. I parked the car, and instantly noticed better-trained classical buskers. Ours are a bit folky. And surely in the old days there were never as many women with pushchairs. Wherever I looked, mothers were pushing sleeping moppets, alert pre-schoolers or fat swaddled babies in buggies and prams. While mine were 200 miles from my side. Ladybird, Ladybird Fly Away Home. She was definitely a Working Mother.

And then I had to get back for Wonder Nanny, who had already agreed to start early and leave late. I left the meeting later than I thought. Then I had to stop for some Office phone calls. Then there was a crash on the Motorway. The the fuel light came on. I cruised along ignoring it, knowing where I was going to stop. I pulled in. The garage was shut, coned off, three police cars parked on the forecourt, bright fluorescent jackets visible inside. There’d been a police incident, said a staff member. “Where’s the next garage?” I asked. 12 miles Thataway, or 3 miles back the way I’d just come. When I got home, Son 2 was asleep but Wonder Nanny had let Son 1 stay up. I put him to bed, and went downstairs. There was a card from the police on the mat. Next door but two was burgled today. Ring if we know anything.

1.  Nightmare

2.  Rescue

3.  Reinforcementsj

Yet another godawful night.  Son 2 aged 1 woke when I went to bed - which was late because I had to work after my friends had gone.  And didn’t go back to sleep till 2am.  I’d been up since 6.  And was up again at 6 today.  But Son 2 listened to The Man on the phone and said “Hiya, hiya, hiya” with a great goofy grin on his face.  And then had an overtired meltdown during breakfast.  I am starting to get a bit vague.  I looked at the  page “Tuesday October 7″ in my open diary at The Office today and took quite a long time to realise the relevance of the date. 

However. Wonder Nanny is back.  Ta da.  She reacted very well to  my telling her that our domestic life has disintegrated in the nearly three weeks since she was last here.  And when I got back from The Office, Son 2 was smiling and Son 1 aged 4 had obviously had a great day.  Son 2 wobbled up and down on his trolley.  She’d had all the musical instruments out upstairs, with Son 2’s animal songs CD and Son 1’s drumkit.  

And The Man came back.  With two Where’s Wally  books for Son 1 - he wasn’t sure about that.  Books don’t count as presents when you’re four.  He’s been looking after Son 2 this evening while I got on with Office work.  Son 2 has woken up about six times.    I am looking forward to a night’s sleep.