1.  The Very Busy Spider

2.   Peter Pan

3.   Bob The Builder

Son 1 aged 4y 5m and Son 2 aged 18m both slept through.   Three Reasonable Nights’ sleep out of four.  With cat-like tread I tiptoed downstairs.  0615.  Son 2 woke.  Son 1 woke.  We went downstairs in search of The Man, who’d gallantly slept on the lounge floor so he didn’t wake me up after a night in the pub. They invaded his makeshift bed.    We gathered snacks and drinks.  The Man and Son 1 vanished upstairs, and Son 2 and I started his books.  He had The Very Busy Spider three times.  The first library book I may have to go out and buy.   He can’t do the names of any of the animals, but he can neigh like a horse, moo like a cow, baa like a sheep and a goat, woof like a dog, miaow like a cat, quack like a duck and crow like a cockeral.  It really made him have a go at speaking. He loved it.

Son 1 didn’t squawk about going to Nursery.  He dressed himself, ate all his tub, and tumbled out of the house in plenty of time.  We listened to the end of Peter Pan on the way: “Oh Peter, Is There Anything You Can’t Do?”  I’m getting quite fond of Peter Pan.  For a 100 year old story, it’s not bad. A great plot, some raw mother-child bonding stuff,  three fairly strong female characters and a disabled anti-hero.  Son 1 went straight in without a whimper.

A grim Office Day.  I didn’t get breakfast or lunch, and wanted to snack as soon as I got back.  The boys wanted me.  I left them upstairs and went down for soup.  Before it was even in the bowl, I could hear Son 2 screaming and sobbing.  I went back up.  Blood and snot was pouring out of his nose and he was loud and hysterical.  “What happened?”  I asked Son 1. “I put a muslin on the floor and he fell over.”  In the bath, four little fingermarks were clearly visible on Son 2’s back.  “What happened?” I asked again.  “I put a muslin on his back and he fell over.” After Son 2 had gone to sleep, and Son 1 was in his bed I asked him again. “I’m not lying,” he said.  “Show me what happened on Bob Bob.”  Son 1 punched his soft toy Bob the Builder on the back so hard he flew across the bed.  Son 2’s lip has split open again.  I am going to take him back to the doctor tomorrow and give a little bit of helpful feedback on the caring hospital doctor who told me it was a superficial graze which wouldn’t scar.

1.   Noise

2.   Toys

3.   Boys

A quiet night from Son 2 aged 14m.  Fireworks this morning though.  The Man brought the boys up their snack - banana and apple pieces.  “I want grapes,” said Son 1 aged 4y 2m. “We haven’t got any grapes,” I said.  Son 1 grizzled a bit.  Son 2 grabbed his tub, peered in, tried throwing it on the floor… grabbed Son 1’s tub, flung the banana and apple on the floor, snatched his own again and succeeded in throwing the contents out… and then hurled his Doidy cup of milk across the chair and mirror.  It was a spectacular piece of tantruming, just because he didn’t have grapes in his tub.  He was dumped back in his cot and left to stew.  Well, boil would be a more accurate description.  Jaysus if he’s like this now what happens when he’s had time to practise?

Getting Son 1 to Nursery on time was a Good Thing.  We left late, the roads were awful, and I decided to try another route which was ok until we ended up in a long stationary queue.  I’m usually pretty patient in traffic, but we’d already been late twice and I really felt like Flinging My Tub. We got there on time though, and I even saw the teacher for the first time in a week.  I like the way Son 1 goes into Nursery now.  Eyes darting around to see what the others are doing, checking out all the different toys out in all the different places… his brain really switches instantly to What-Am-I-Playing-With, rather than I-Want-My-Mum.

Back home after The Office Son 2 reached and shrieked for me as soon as I walked in, and then, once he’d clamped himself to my shoulder started looking round for the next bit of action.  I did some books with him and got him in his bath.  Son 1 went in the shower, Son 2 sat at the plug end playing with the bubbles, the Winnie The Pooh squirters and some plastic jugs.  Son 1 was cleaning toys and polishing the shower screen.  They were both enchantingly engrossed in their own games.  For two minutes, till Son 1 “accidentally” poured soapy water in Son 2’s eyes.  Waaaaaaaaaaahhhhh.  It was hard settling him again, but we made it.  Six weeks since I stopped feeding him, and I think he’s now happy with milk from a cup and water from a glass.

1.  Three Good Things Before Breakfast

2.  Hand Holding

3.  Best Foot Forward

Son 1aged 4y 2m doesn’t got to Nursery on Tuesdays so we have a slightly slower start.  A Good Thing already.  Son 2 aged 14m stayed asleep till 0640.  Another Good Thing.  Son 2 went downstairs with The Man without hollering for me.  Three Good Things before 7am.  A cheer for each, Hooray Hooray Hooray.  I had to go into The Office earlier than usual so it felt like I didn’t see the boys very long. Pang Pang Pang.

A Hard Day At The Office - just long, no breaks and a bit of an endurance event.  A few new people to meet, which was interesting.  Note-taking for seven hours + and unsurprisingly I’ve wrecked my hand and arm.  But looking on the bright side it means this will be short tonight.

And I got out for a run. Inspired by Sunday and the scarey fit club runners.  I went on the website.  I came in the lower three-hundredths in the Road Race.   Ten and a half minute miles.  I used to run whole marathons faster.

1.  Hours

2.  Minutes

3.  Days

Son 2 aged 14m made it through the night again, hooray hooray.  We had a slow but busy start.  Son 2 went back to bed at about 9.  I spoke to the Wednesday Friends, down to the Museum.  The Booming Business Mother is in the Southern Hemisphere on Glamorous Work Assignment, but will be represented by her children and husband.  Son 1 aged 4y 1m and I waited till Son 2 woke up.  He watched telly, I tidied and cleaned.  We all trailed out with the Big Pram at about 11am.  A traffic warden was writing down details of my car, parked in the one hour spaces, restricted after 9am.  What idiot left it there without moving it?  Ar.  Traumatic trip home last night.  Gridlock… didn’t ring Wonder Nanny because phone in boot… raced in to send her home, late late late.  Forgot where I’d dumped car.  The traffic warden was on his first pass only… so we dismantled the Big Pram, put it in the boot and drove to the Museum.

I unloaded and reassembled the Big Pram in the car park by the Museum.  The ticket machine wasn’t working.  Didn’t want to leave car without a ticket; didn’t want to unpick Pram again.  Put  Son 1 in museum with Wednesday Friends and moved car to a different car park with Son 2.  On the way we found a new pair of child’s mittens left abandoned on the pavement.  Son 2’s.  We are indeed having a Lucky Day.    

The Museum was great, Son 1 played everywhere, Son 2 joined in at every level with a single-minded determination, and a confidence in me as a resource that got everything he wanted.  Back home I put Son 2 to bed while Son 1 watched telly.  Nanna came round.  After bedtime another Friend came round, and we had a couple of glasses of wine and discussed children non-stop for two hours.  The Man says he may not be back till Saturday.   When I was half-planning to go Swimming In The Sea.

1.  Sleeping Through

2.  Sock Triumph

3.  Soft Touch

Son 2 aged 14m went down in his cot last night and stayed there until 0620 this morning.  Which last night gave me the tortured choice of check him and wake him up vs what if he’s dead?    I have never, ever, heard of or encountered anyone who sleeps as lightly as Son 2.  I swear the ting of a radiator, the click of a knee or the sound of a contact lens falling on the floor can wake him.   But we’re getting there.  A month ago I could only get him to sleep by lying on the bed next to him, and had to go to him each time he awoke in case he rolled off.  And he needed a grown up to sleep with him.  And now he’s doing ok on his own.  Unless your tummy rumbles…

I found the sock, hooray hooray.  A woman in a pinny, smoking a fag, watched me carefully as I scoured the Quay.  “I’m looking for a little boy sock,” I said. “We lost it in the dark last night.” “There’s a sock over there,” she said. “But it’s not a little boy’s.”  Yes it was.  Squodged, soaking, muddy and run over several times.   Yes I know it’s only a sock.  But inconvenience/annoyance of having to go back and look for it < inconvenience/annoyance of having five Nursery socks.  Forever.

The boys went to a play park with Wonder Nanny, and her Nanny Friend and her two charges… and then had them round this afternoon with the Thomas Wooden Railway boxes out.   A nightmare getting home from The Office.  A broken down bus on a single lane stretch and no escape from the stationary traffic.  Late late late.  Late for Wonder Nanny going home, late putting the boys to bed.  Son 2 is always first out of the bath, and then Son 1 aged 4 y 1m.  He wraps himself up in a big towel, and Son 2 helps me pat him dry.  Many, many giggles.

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.  

1.  Silent night

2.  Twang

3.  Silent day

Hoorah, hooray, Son 2 aged 10m slept through.  I do love him but he has a yell that can fuse atoms.  My left ear feels like it’s got crackling tracing paper inside.   I had Son 1 aged 3 y 10m in bed with me overnight.  I’ll leave him there, I thought, when Son 2 wakes up he can have a lie in.  Son 2 woke up at 6am and Son 1 just trailed after me where’er I went.  The Man was away on his overnight trip, so we zoom, zoom, zoomed. 

In the days before our lives were enriched by our offspring, The Man used to enjoy DIY.  He did a great job on our already-converted loft, putting in eaves cupboards, and a new washroom.  Behind the door in the washroom, on the skirting board is a stopper.  It always did its job - which was to stop the door banging back.  Son 1 has, since he was extremely small, loved twanging it.  He has only just thought to ask what it is actually for, as he has long assumed it was just that, something to twang.  I always picture The Man, wandering round B and Q with a trolley, buying stuff for upstairs, choosing the door stopper, with no idea how it would be used in future.    Today Son 2, aged 10m, was having a bit of a crawl around in the washroom.  Twang.  Twang.  Twang.  Twang.    Twang.  

So.  Dressed them, dressed me, fed them.  (I didn’t get fed.) Got Son 2’s lunch.  Got briefcase.  Boys in car.  To nursery.  Gave Son 2 to the nursery nurse.  Kissed Son 1.  Kissed Son 2. Waved goodbye to Son 2.  Left Son 2.  And he didn’t cry.  First time ever.  Hmmm. Didn’t cry in the night.  Didn’t cry at nursery.  He must be ill.   

1. Breakfast time

2. Nap time

3. Bathtime

Son 2 aged 9m had another good night - he woke at 2am crying, and then went back to sleep, and then woke just before six, and just lay in his cot chatting until I got up at 0630.  Son 1 aged 3 and a half stayed in his bed and waited till we came to him - just like he used to in the pre-Son 2 days.  “Is Daddy here today?” “No.” “Wail.” ”Would you like me to ring Daddy so you can hear his voice?” “Yes.”  So I rang The Man, and passed the phone over to Son 1.  Who hurled it out of the bed and on to the floor. 

Just about made it back from The Office in time for Wonder Nanny’s finishing time.  She was thrilled with Son 1, who had been a little paragon for her all day.  Son 2 had slept for two hours, during which Son 1 had slept for an hour.  Son 1 had eaten all his meals sitting on his chair without running around and had asked to get down.  Son 1 had eaten an enormous tea of pizza, a whole can of tuna, pasta, sweetcorn and yoghurt. And then two home made biscuits.     Oh how I praised Son 1.  I told him I was very proud of him, that it made me feel very happy to hear Wonder Nanny talking like that, that it was lovely to come home to find out how good he’d been.   Son 1 beamed from ear to ear and waved Wonder Nanny off.

And sprouted horns, cloven feet and a tail.  He screeched so loudly he perforated my ear drum.  He snatched away whatever toy Son 2 was playing with.  He screamed and sobbed because I wouldn’t let him have another biscuit.   He kicked toys around the kitchen.  He put his arms around Son 2 and squeezed him till he cried.  He was a Grade A* little sh-I-try-not-to-use-bad-language-about-my-children.  “Why were you so nice for Wonder Nanny, and now you’re being so naughty?” “Because you don’t know what to do Mummy.”  Too right.  Surprised it’s taken you this long to notice. I got them both stripped and in the bath.  Whereupon Son 2 pulled the plug out.  Twice.

1.  7am

2.  Delicious

3.  The Run

Woke up at 7am to the sound of Son 2 aged 8m chatting away downstairs.  Another sticker for you my boy, for sleeping through again.  Three nights in a row.  Who knows if he’s settling now.  There are so many variables… we stopped standing him up after the Cranial Osteopath said he had a curve in his spine, although I think he needs that to be able to arch his head back to touch his heels every time he gets cross.  We changed his milk from the thickened anti-reflux stuff to Hipp organic in case he was suffering because he was bunged up inside.   And he is kind of back in the old routine after a month of holiday, christening and Mummy working her socks off on the Trade Show.

Son 1 aged 3 and a half went off to his swimming lesson with The Man.  Son 2 went back to sleep.  I had a choice of lying on the bed watching my sleeping angelic son or putting my make up on and doing my hair.  So I put a pillow either side of him and off to the mirror I went.  Made panfulls of food. I’ve run out of stuff for Son 2, so he had a shop-bought tub for lunch.  I did tricoloured pasta with red pepper, sweetcorn, peas and grated cheese for Son 1’s.  “Delicious” he said, several times.  “This is my favourite.”

Went for a run.  I couldn’t find my running bras so I used some from my pre-children days (I wear two together.)  A Good Thing for today is that I got into them.  So all was safely gathered in. I couldn’t breathe, but you can’t have everything.  Another Good Thing was coming back and not having two hours’ work ahead of me.  I’m not whingeing, I’m really lucky that  I can work in the evenings and have more time with the children, and I’m proud of getting back to work and still being alive two months later.  But this evening I could have had a bath, read the paper, read my book… so I had a look at the chat on Mumsnet instead. 

1.  Flat on the tummy

2.  Flat tummies

3.  In the tummy

Son 2 aged 8m slept through.  Started clucking at about 0630… neither of us could remember hearing him cry.   I’ve been leaving Son 2 on his tummy as often as I can.  Sometimes he tolerates it, sometimes he whinges.  He was on his tummy this morning during my shower, and seemed to be happy, wagging his legs, propping himself up on straightened arms, playing with toys and forgetting he wants to stand up.  If I have time next week I’ll try and get his back checked out by a doctor.    

After I’d finished at The Office I had my hair done, which is always a Good Thing.   A chance to sit and chat, drink coffee and read gossip magazines.   “I can reveal that Seraphina doesn’t have any eating issues, during our interview she tucked in to a hearty lunch of  egg-white omelette and salad.”   There is something deeply horrible about the intense focus on weight.  “Anastasia’s friends and family are begging her to put weight on - oh look at this series of photos showing Berenice’s pot belly… her friends and family are begging her to get back to the gym.”  Thank heaven for my little boys.   

I was at The Office early today, which meant The Man dropped the boys off and I picked them up.  Son 2 was being carried by a nursery nurse I’d never seen before, and burst into tears as soon as he saw me.  “He’s just been laughing,” they protested.  Son 1 aged 3 and a half jumped up and down next to some boxes of coloured bags.  Bookstart packages… one for Son 1 and one for Son 2.  Son 1 carried both to the car.  At home Son 1 spread the contents all over the kitchen floor.  Son 2 refused the Annabel Karmel minestrone soup, and instead enjoyed mini-cheese sandwiches enormously.  He crumbled them all into atoms, which were then diligently swept up by The Man.