1.   Froggies

2.   Buggies

3.   Huggies

Really good, thank you, great weather, good journeys, no complaints, no complaints. Want some pictures? You’ll like this one: I dressed the boys for a 3am start in the UK, and we arrived at 12 noon our time and 25C, picked up the gleaming hire car and headed for the villa… Son 2 aged 2y 1m cried in the back, red spots burning in his cheeks, clearly overheated and distressed. “It’s ok, Son 2,” I kept saying. “We’re nearly there.” We stopped outside our destination. Vomit jetted out of him in pitiful spurts, swilling down his front and pooling in the car seat.  “I’s sick,” he said, hair plastered to his forehead.   Oh, but the swimming pool was lovely, the waiters loved children, the sun shone and the Bloody Marys racked up.  The Elegant Aunt and Golfmad Uncle had given us their timeshare, where we’ve stayed before, but had booked themselves another villa a few miles away to see the boys. “You’ll think it’s a bit Footballers’ Wives,” laughed the Elegant Aunt as she showed me around their new find.  Oh dear. I didn’t. I thought it was lovely.  Really lovely.  I didn’t dare tell her.  So we swam and went to the playground and the beach, and then this morning we trailed along the paths towards the hire car, and the boys spotted frogs in the water through the gardens. And I had a massive Pang, because we Just Don’t Get Enough Time Together As A Family.  And then I was Positive, because I know how lucky we are. And I am full of Holiday Resolutions which will Improve Our Lives.

Son 2, sitting in the back,  sang a song about his Ollday. Each verse finished on “Orl day long,” and Son 1 aged 5y 1m and I clapped each time.  Then he started to cry. “I’s sick,” he said.  “We’re nearly there, Son 2,” I said, mentally risk assessing. Garbage In = Garbage Out. He hadn’t had enough breakfast for anything untoward to happen.  The Man piled the trolley high with two suitcases, a sailbag, a hand-luggage-on-wheels-case, two car seats and assorted bits of carry-on stuff, including a Thomas The Tank Engine wheeled suitcase and an Early Learning Centre farm.  He zoomed off to return the hire car.   We paused in Departures. Son 2 threw up. Magnificently.  Great quantities of milk and bits which even I could smell.  I blotted him madly with muslins from the nappy bag, failing to notice that he was sitting in puddles of it in the buggy.  Son 1 had Euros from Golfmad Uncle in his pocket, and whined for the Sweetie Stall.     The Man returned, I broke open a case and found clean clothes. We checked in, sent the stinky buggy into the hold and sprayed ourselves in Wall-E scent from the toy bit of Duty Free.

The flight was a Total Nightmare.  Son 2 is a psychotic flyer and I Refuse To Go On A Plane With Him Again Ever.  It was worse than this: http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/05/17/the-land-of-the-sand/  But it was only two and half hours in a 12 hour trip, there was a sachet of Calpol they didn’t spot in the nappy bag and we dosed him with that. But next time it’s Medised.  On the way we gave Son 1 his first trip to McDonald’s. A Happy Meal. Doesn’t like burgers, doesn’t really do stringy chips, but liked the tomato sauce and the toy.  Son 2 kept up the jeopardy with “I’s sick! I’s sick!” but we put Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on the portable DVD and he seemed to forget. Back home we unpacked. And I have a Triumph. We bought too much wine out there and couldn’t drink it all. So I brought it back.  I am a Member Of Mumsnet.  We can Solve Problems.  In the suitcase, in the hold, and it didn’t break.  Wrapped in clingfilm, a carrier bag each, two of The Man’s tee-shirts which I hate so wouldn’t care if we had to throw them out… and the particular stroke of genius of which I am very proud: Son 2’s swimnappies.  One at each end of the bottles. And one turned inside out on either side in case the worse happened.  6 Euros Over There will be Very Nice Over Here.  And Kim, who is keen on the brand, and has been kind enough to comment, at last I can give you your heading…

1.  Ingedients

2.  Processing Food

3.  Sweet And Sour

7am.  Son 1 aged 4y 11m got into the Big Bed.  He was freezing.  And doing his mock-crying/mock whining thing. “What’s the matter?” “I don’t want to give our ingredients to Wednesday Mum.”  I was rabid about the loss of the sandals. And told Son 1 there would be no fairy cake making, and that all the ingredients we bought would be given to our Friends.  “We’re not going to. Mummy was probably a bit too cross yesterday. I’m sorry.” ”I’m sorry I lost my shoes.”  “I’m sorry I was so cross. But your feet are very long and thin and it took me a long time and a lot of shops to find some that fit.” “Can we still make our cakes?” “Yes we can.” “I’ll go and get the ingredients.” “From the cupboard?” “No. I hided them.” “Where?” “Behind the toilet.” Son 1 and I went downstairs.  Bicarb, sprinkles, jelly sweets, sugar letters, caster sugar, icing sugar, cake wrappers… all wedged on the floor in the cobwebs behind the U bend.    It must have taken him three or four trips. No wonder he was freezing.

We had a group trip into The Town after breakfast, and then came back and started cake-making. Son 1 and Son 2 aged 23m stood on the big chairs.  They were interested in three things: breaking eggs,  pressing the buttons on the food mixer and eating sweets.  Much disappointment when Son 1 realised the sweet stage doesn’t come till you ice them. We mixed. Son 1 broke his egg. “And me!” yelled Son 2. Ah. We only had one egg. Wonder Nanny went down the road in search of another box.   The cakes went in the oven.

We had lunch and then Son 2 and I went for a lie down. Luxury.  I think lying down for a snooze with a little child is one of the great free pleasures in life.  We slept for more than an hour - I’ve got a cold coming and am feeling pretty wrecked. When we went downstairs, Wonder Nanny and Son 1 were peeling crayons. “I’ve been meaning to do this job for ages,” said Wonder Nanny.  I didn’t even realise it needed doing. We went swimming.  The pool was almost empty. Son 1 piled up surf boards to make a surf shop.  Son 2 delighted in the surf boards. He clung baby-like in the deep end, but as soon as he had solid ground under his feet his confidence soared.  He was great.  At bedtime they slept instantly.  Wonder Nanny babysat, and The Man and I went out to the local Thai restaurant. We sat in the window. Some Eastern European men set upon a man walking up the hill directly outside. My view was bloked by the menu in the window, but The Man saw the whole thing. The police arrived. Someone came in and asked if the staff had seen anything. “No no,” said the waiter. “All in kitchen.”  No they weren’t. They watched it all.   I was a Juror.  I made The Man go and see the police to make up.

1.  Puppets

2.  Helter Skelter

3.  Waterfalls

Wonder Nanny arriving at 0830 was a Good Thing.  I love my boys and I want to be with them, but after three long hard days in sole charge I was very glad to have help. Son 2 aged 20m and I did puppet books this morning.  We have a monkey finger puppet in a jungle book, nursery rhyme finger puppets which give me the excuse to read an ELC book to him, a Finger Circus book for us to draw faces on our fingers and wiggle through the pages… and three pirate finger puppets which are Son 2’s favourite and gave me a great lead into Peter Pan. We are going to see the show in Kensington Gardens at the weekend, so I am trying to teach Son 2 the story to stop us getting slung out at the first cannonshot. “Hook!” he can say, pointing a stubby finger at Our Hero.  He has been well-trained by Son 1 aged 4y 8m.

I wasn’t needed in court this afternoon, so Wonder Nanny and I took the boys swimming.  Wonder Nanny goes with Son 2 while I’m at work, so he was very happy to swim with her while Son 1 and I played. We went round the River Run, we played on surf boards. We went up on the Flume.  Son 1 still goes down on his own, and I, like the Gruffalo,  follow after.  On our fourth time down, I decided to stuff the sedate, responsible Mother bit and see how fast I could go.  I pushed off, lay flat and shot down like a missile. Near the bottom, I blasted into Son 1, an elephant propelled into a little monkey. He screamed and we corkscrewed into the splashpool.  He was unhurt, but Very Cross. Back at the top of the ladder, the Lifeguard was sheepish.  “He just stopped near the bottom!” “Oh he’s all right,” I said. ”It’s my fault. I always sit up and go slowly, but just that once I thought ’sod it, how fast does this thing go.’  I’ll go back to being slow,”  “No you go for it,” said the Lifeguard. “He’s all the way down now so you won’t hit him.”  I went for it. Wheeeeeeeeeee.

Wonder Nanny and I swapped boys.  Son 2 can float in his armbands, and can kick himself along.  But he doesn’t see why he should.  Every time I prised him off me, finger by finger, he just hung in the water till I was near enough to grab.  He does though like playing in fountains and bubbles, so he was interested in that.  He kept pointing at the changing rooms. “There.”  “Do you want to get out?” Mad nodding.  Return home, tea, books, bath, bed. And the internet light on the computer is working too.  Hooray hooray,  A Very Good Thing.

1.  First Night Self-Soothing

2.  First Day Back

3.  First Knights Kaput

The boys slept ok, I didn’t.  Son 2 aged 17m woke three times before midnight.  The first time I helped him back to sleep, and put his fan on.  The other two we left him, and he didn’t cry for very long before going back to sleep on his own.  That was a Fantastic Thing, from a child who has months and months of evidence that if he just STANDS IN HIS COT AND SHOUTS VERY LOUDLY FOR LONG ENOUGH HIS MOTHER WILL COME.  Son 1 aged 4y 5m woke crying after time 3, and I went into bed with him.  I did get back in the Big Bed with The Man eventually, but it felt like I was up a long time.

Back to School.  We left on time and had a relatively painless trip to Nursery.  Back to The Office, which was also ok.  The Colleague we saw at the Swimming Pool yesterday asked about Son 2’s lip.  And I confessed to something I left out of the blog yesterday.  In the Pool, after he’d fallen over and split his lip open for the fourth time since his accident, I was trying to stuff the blood back up Son 2’s nose so the lifeguards wouldn’t see I had a bleeding baby in the water.  I had already paid £2.80 and didn’t want to get out so soon. This parenting technique is apparently not yet in the manuals. 

The Man is off on another Business Trip.  I picked Son 1 up late, hey ho, and tried to make up the half an hour we needed to get back for Wonder Nanny’s leaving time.   Temporary traffic lights in Next Town.  No chance.  When we got in Son 1 had just woken and was crying… Son 2 demanded to be picked up.  Son 1 was clinging on one arm, so Wonder Nanny put Son 2 on the other.  He reached and cuddled Son 1.  Twice.  It was lovely.  Part of the reason Son 1 was crying was he’d lost his new Dragon Fly Gormiti at Nursery.  I gave him another one, A Lord Of The Air.  Situation sort of saved, although Son 1 did love the Dragon Fly.  He took them upstairs to play with at bathtime.  Son 2 picked up Magmion, Lord of the Lava,  ran with it and left it on the bathroom floor.  And I trod on it and broke the tail off.  Situation … er… AFU.

1.  Swimming Beauties

2.  Swimming Babies

3.  Swimming Boys

A Grim night.  Son 2 aged 17m woke hollering at 0030, and I went to him, switched his fan on (white noise) and helped him back to sleep.  I hadn’t got back to sleep when Son 1 aged 4y 5m woke up, and I went in with him.  When he went back to sleep I went in the double bed in Son 2’s room. I was so wrecked when he woke up that I tried to get him back to sleep.  He refused.  Needed new nappy.  Son 1 arrived.  No chance of getting back to bed.  Looking out at the river while I changed Son 2 I saw 10 swans, seven swimming in a long line, three stragglers bringing up the rear.   A record for the river. Son 1 said something about  seeing a long line of swans a few days ago.

Son 2 was again, uncontainable this morning.  Climbing, pulling things out of drawers, demanding mobile phones and the fancy ear thermometer.  He wriggled down from the bed while I was reading to him and marched off  to the bathroom, patting the taps, tugging at his pyjama top “A-ma.  A-ma.”  He always comes in the shower with me, but I’d already decided we were going to Baby swimming.  He was desperate to get in the pool, swam on the noodle with me, but really wanted to wander off on the tiles without me.  I let him the first time.  Skid. Bang.  Wah.  Huge bump on his head.  Split lip open again.  Blood everywhere.  I mopped him up and we went back in.  A bit more swimming, but then he wanted to get out.  He was asleep in the car seat when we got back to the house, and stayed asleep while I took his coat and shoes off, put him in his sleeping bag and put him in his cot.  

I went back to the Pool with Son 1. Best Friend and his brother were there with their parents.  And a colleague of mine from The Office with his three boys.  And the two boys nannied by Wonder Nanny’s friend.  And Lifestyle Guru Hairdresser and her two boys.  Son 1 played with Best Friend in the spa pools and the main pool.  He went down the Flume twice, me following behind him. Best Friend left. Son 1 played, I followed.  Lovely Chair (I sit on the noodle and he pulls it away; I pretend I don’t know who did it,) Terrible Weather (we sit under surf boards under the big fountain and the water hammers on top,) Killer Whales and Crocodiles.  Back at the house Son 2 had only just woken up and was having lunch.  Afterwards Son 1 made a picture of peacock with the feathers we found on Tuesday.  I was thinking eco-material collage.  Son 1 did his own thing and wouldn’t accept parental guidance.  It was roadkill.