1.  Night 2

2.  School homework

3.  Moment captured

4.  Swimming

Son 2 aged 13m stayed in the cot overnight again, Wa-hay.  He struggled going to sleep, I moved him into it when I went to bed… he woke at 0430.  I woke, looked at the clock, decided he’d done well and I’d go down to him, and then he was crying again and it was 0630. 

The tiny school 3 miles away that I like for Son 1 has just had an Outstanding Ofsted.   Disaster.  I found it when it was only Good, hands off.  So I went for a coffee with a friend’s friend, an expert in schools admissions.  Take The Man to see it, make sure the Head knows it’s your first choice and then just keep in touch so you find out before close of submissions if it’s oversubscribed and you’d be wasting your time trying.  She sold me on the one her children go to as our second choice, and we could get Son 1 in there. We’re lucky, because we can choose any school in The Town and Son 1’s is a low birthrate year.  He can go anywhere.  If I just can get that little village school out of my system…

Son 2 is getting good at standing.  He’s got a bit of control, and can balance and look at something he’s doing at the same time.  And then, after lunch… he stood, he looked, and he wobbled forward.  And his little feet stumbled forward, left right left right, until he sat down on his big fat nappy bottom.  The crowd (me, Wonder Nanny, Son 1) went wild and clapped and cheered.  “Well done Son 2!” “Do it again, do it again!”  Son 2 looked as if he’d like to oblige, but hadn’t the faintest idea what he’d done to get such a reaction.  And now I know why I blog diligently.  I’ve no idea of the exact moment Son 1 took his first steps - he was probably at nursery.

A Four Good Things day.  We took the boys swimming, and it was lovely.  Son 1 was mad with excitement, playing pirates the whole time, forcing himself between me and Son 2 whenever he thought we were enjoying ourselves without  him.  Son 2 loves the water.  We came back and they were both exhausted.  Tea was early, getting them to bed was early… Son 2 passed out within minutes and hasn’t stirred this evening.  I was downstairs at 1815… and Wonder Nanny had done all the clearing up.  Wa-hay.

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. Cleaning the car

2. The cot

3. The beach to ourselves

The Man and I are barely lucid.  Son 2 aged 8m continues his “WHERE ARE YOU ALL?” starting just before 5.  I cracked at 0530 and went downstairs and fed him.  The Man has hung an old blanket over the window because I think the problem’s the light.  He thinks the problem is Son 2’s teeth.  Today Son 1 aged 3 and a half slept in despite the noise.  So before 8am I  put  Son 2 in his pram, walked him up and down the terrace and he fell asleep.  And then The Man got the extension lead out and I… vaccuumed the car out.   It now looks like other peoples’ before they clean them… but it’s a start.

Son 1 got up at gone 8 and said that as he’d slept through, he had enough energy to go to the Trade Show today.  Very disappointed that it’s not on yet, and went off next door for breakfast.  I put Son 2 in his cot so he could hang on to the side and stand up.  He loved it.  Screams blue murder if he has to lie down, but a smile as big as his face for standing up.  He’s twice done a very funny baby leg-stomp when he’s fallen over or his legs have buckled.  Sheer temper, and hilarious now at 8 months old, but I do wonder whether we are in for stormy times as he gets bigger.

Down to the beach to see our friends.  The tide going out, and no-one else there.  Son 1 clunked instantly in to playing with the others.  Son 2 slept for a few minutes and then was very happy playing on the sand and having his lunch.  Our friends said how much they’d enjoyed the christening.  The couple who run the beach cafe are selling up.  Can’t help thinking that it’ll be £3 lattes in its next incarnation, instead of 40p mini-milks.  The wind was onshore and very cold.  I had to retrieve Son 1’s beach ball, and left Son 2 with one of the other mums.  “If you just feed him Cheerios, he’ll be your best friend.”  When I came back her 22-month-old was feeding him the Cheerios.  So sweet.