1.  Dreaming

2.  Dream Come True

3.  Nightmare

4am.  A shape by the side of the bed. Little fingers on my eyebrows.  I lifted Son 1 aged 4y 4 m over into the middle of the Big Bed.  Later, unable to get back to sleep, I got up to go downstairs.  “Mummy?” The little shape followed me down and we got into his bed.  Later, a terrified banshee scream from next door. I pelted in. Son 2 aged 16m was standing up in the corner of the cot.  I whipped him into bed and he went back to sleep.  On holiday in Portugal, I was in an Office suit, but no bra and no shoes.  I was carrying a small red ball.  I’d got on a bus and got off again, but I wasn’t sure where I was.   I needed to get back to get Son 1.  But I had no money and I couldn’t speak Portuguese.  I woke up.   Son 1 was standing on the landing. I went to him.  ”Let’s go downstairs,” I whispered. “Don’t wake Son 2.” He ignored me, clambered into the space I’d just vacated and cuddled Son 2.  Who giggled.

4.30pm. Heavy grey clouds hung low across the sky, thick snow whirled.  Son 1’s Nursery teacher rang.  “Can you come and get him?  We’re worried about the roads.”  By the time I got there the snow was thick on the ground, and there were only two other children left.  Outside, Son 1 was enchanted.  “I’ve always wanted snow haven’t I?” He tried throwing snowballs at me… but as he’s never made one he hasn’t quite got the knack.  He wanted to laugh and play.  I couldn’t see how we were going to get back.  I finally got him in the car and decided to try for home.  It was slow, it was horrible, snow fell continuously.  Before Son 1 was born I would have just gone back to The Office and stayed somewhere overnight.  I wouldn’t have been worried about making the trip with no snacks, blankets or water.  But That Was Then.

The main roads were worrying, but passable.  The Terrace was a snow sheet in the dark.  Son 1 was asleep.  I parked at the end, scuffed the snow away and realised I was on a double yellow line.  I rang The Man.  “There’s a space outside the house, just bring it up.”  I drove up the hill.  I double parked by the space and went to get The Man, thinking he’d be better at parking it than me.  I turned round and the car was rolling away from me backwards down the hill.  A young girl ran into the road to try to stop it.  “My son’s in there!” I shrieked.  “Jump in and put the handbrake on!” she said. “It is on!” I yelled.  I got to the door, leapt in, stood on the brake and yanked the handbrake up as hard as I could. The car stopped.  I looked back.  The girl and a man were standing behind the car.  I thanked them. “Are you all right?”  “No,” I was shaking.  Son 1 woke up and started to cry.   I drove a bit further up the hill and abandoned the car on the side of the road.  The Man opened the front door, holding Son 2 in his cotton pyjamas.  “What have you put it up there for?”  He’d looked out the window, seen me in the car outside, come downstairs and seen me take it up the hill.  Missing a teeny part of the story.

1.  Clapped Out

2.  A Big Clap

3.  Clapping Song

Fireworks, flags and fanfares, Son 2 aged 13m slept in his cot all night.  Possibly unconscious with exhaustion after an evening from hell.  I had to leave him in his cot to cry himself hoarse while I put Son 1 aged 4y 1m to bed. Then I finally got him to sleep on the double bed.  He woke up again, by the time I got up there to pick him up he was frantic.  No voice left, heart beating so hard it felt like it would burst through his little chest, face soaked with tears.  I gave him the rest of his (bottled) milk, and again, I got him to sleep on the bed.  And when I went up I just popped him in his cot. Where he stayed.

He can stand now, for longer and longer.  And looks round for attention when he does it and claps his hands. “Applause please, everyone. I did it again.”  He’s gorgeous.  We went to The Beach in the morning - had to keep ducking for cover in rain showers - and then, for various reasons, went over to our friends’ house afterwards.  Son 1 and Friend Aged 3y 11m played, Son 2 stood by the toy drumkit and rumba-d.  He pointed at the dog a lot.  And snap-snapped with the toy crocodile we got him from the Bird Park.

We’d just got back when Nanna came round.  Son 2 was in the Big Pram asleep.  Son 1’s school photos have arrived - they’re definitely worth giving his whole nursery class his tummy bug.   Son 1 watched CBeebies; Son 2 woke and grizzled and griped until I worked out he was hungry, and sat him in his highchair with breadsticks and hummous.  Then they all ate an M and S fish pie I’d efficiently remembered to take out of the freezer before we left in the morning.  I checked the bag to see how long to heat it: “For best results, cook from frozen.”  At bedtime Son 1 and Son 2 played together in the bath, charming and giggly.  Son 1 and I sang “If you’re happy and you know shout ‘we are’” and Son 2 clapped his hands and laughed in a definite “I know that one!”  Son 1 and Nanna went to his room for stories while I put Son 2 to bed. I gave him some milk, cuddled him and sang him a lullaby, and then put him down on the floor while I blacked out the window with a blanket.  As I finished there was a click.  He’d power-crawled across the bedroom  and was out the door looking for Son 1 and Nanna.  Again, a nightmare getting him off to sleep.  Day 5 without feeding him.