1.  Fed And Watered

2.  The Breezes And The Sunshine

3.  Soft, Refreshing Rain

Son 1 aged 5 and I arrived at School. It’s Harvest Festival Day.  His class, all dressed as scarecrows, is singing a song. Son 1 will pop up wearing a straw hat. I said I would try and get there. And was then told the time.  2pm.  No bloody chance.  “Are lots of parents coming?” I asked Mrs Smiley. She smiled, as she always does. “Oh yes. There’ll be a very good turn out.”  Outside the school, I rang Nanna, and Wonder Nanny. They can go. “Have we got to take something?” asked Nanna. “I’ve got strawberries.” Nope. I sent in a bag of groceries earlier in the week. I hunted high and low in the cupboards. I found two tins of Lite Evaporated Milk which were Best Before Apr 2005… and a tinned Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie so old it didn’t have a sellby date. I looked for things I wouldn’t use.  But deducing that someone getting a School food parcel would not feel too grateful for Chestnut Puree and Aubergine Pesto, I put tea, coffee, tuna, baked beans, soup and tinned tomatoes in a bag instead.  

Not the easiest day I’ve had at The Office, mainly because I did 16 hours yesterday and I’m knackered. Halfway through I remembed a snag in the Harvest Festival plan. I’d promised Son 1 an after-school trip to Tesco.  Last night Son 2 aged 2y 1m had done some blackbelt tantrumming because I wasn’t there… and Son 1 had behaved beautifully.  Plus he’s managed to get up for School for more than 6 weeks. I rang Wonder Nanny. Can they take him to Tesco as well if he wants to go.

When I got back home Son 1 was throwing small plastic balls which transform into aliens around. Son 2 was sitting in his highchair eating strawberries and sweets, giggling. ”I wan’ si’ on Mummy’s lap.”  It was late, so we rounded the up for Books And Bath And Bed.  Maybe The Man was making up the behaviour last night. Could this shiny-cheeked cherub with dancing eyes, sitting in the shower, laughing and splashing Mummy, possibly be the roaring banshee who was put to bed without a bath, without teeth cleaning, and without anything?  Teenaged Niece bought the boys new pyjamas. Son 1 was dashing in bright red Lightning McQueen, Son 2 in oversized bright green Buzz Lightyear. Another Good Thing: Son 2 seems to be getting a bit bigger.  If it carries on he may even get into 12- 18m trousers…

1.  Avoir Fatigue

2.  M’Aider

3.  The Couleurs King

I have been awake since 3am. Ellen MacArthur did five months on five minutes’ sleep every four hours.  Or something. I could so see her off.   I woke up, couldn’t get back to sleep, went downstairs, made a cup of tea, went back upstairs, got my Book Club book and went back down to the Double Bed for a peaceful middle-of-the-night readfest.  A little figure came padding down from the Big Bed. Wordlessly and glassy-eyed, Son 1 aged 5 plonked himself in the Double Bed.  Mrs Smiley’s voice echoed in my head: “How’s his sleeping?”  I switched off the light. “My head is still hurting.” I gave him a slug of Kalpol. He didn’t sleep; I didn’t sleep. He eyebrowed vigorously and clamped himself to me.  After a very very long time, Son 2 aged 2y 1m wailed.

After an hour at The Office, my voice had gone again.  “I’ll go home and work there,” I told a colleague. I didn’t make it. I found if I kept my head down, said nothing and drank lots of hot drinks, I could manage. I did a mad run round the shops at lunchtime.  I have… erm.. burnt Son 1’s tummy by putting neat tea tree oil on his molluscum. It’s made his eczema flare up.  I asked Teenaged Niece what she put on her eczema. “HE 45″ she said. I wasn’t going to take her word for it. I was going to ask the pharmacist. Only all pharmacists in the Big Town take their lunch between 1pm and 2pm.  “When can you guys make it?  OK.  That’s when we’ll shut up shop.”  So. HE 45 it was. And some allergy-for-children medicine.

Back late, and Son 2, the Cooler King, was shut up in his cot in a darkened room, having a raging tantrum.  ”He’s been horrible,” said The Man. ”He wouldn’t eat his tea, he wouldn’t have a bath, and I only just got his teeth done.” I got Son 2 out, and he sat on my knee, quietly panting, his head against me.  I took him into the other bedroom. Son 1 had a French lesson today, and was singing something about quelle couleurs.  The Man and I were baffled by the verse: Hoar, jaune, bleu, vert. We eventually worked out that the problem was our dodgy accents. Our rouge features the same sound as kangaroo.  Son 1’s has a throaty soft French “r” and a “g” that rolls into the “j” of “jaune.” I gave him the anti-allergy medicine. And then read the ingredients. Sugar and alcohol.  Nice.  I really want to give that to my five-year-old.

1.  Who Disturbs My Slumber?

2.  The Little Mermaid

3.  Chicken Run

Tired, tired, tired.  Son 1 aged 5 was trying to get into the Big Bed before midnight last night, so I took him back to his bed, got back in with him, got him back to sleep, woke up in the wee hours and headed off to the Double Bed to try and sleep. “Mummmeee!” called Son 1.  I put him back in his bed, explained I had to sleep alone or I’d be grumpy, and went off again. Not a creature was stirring and everything was still dark when Son 2 aged  2y 1m hollered for me. The Man went in. Son 2 had hysterics in disappointment. “NO! MUMMMEEEE!” The Man brought him in to me. He snugged. Son 1 padded in after. The line-up was Son 2, me, Son 1, The Man. Son 2 span round like a drill bit.  Son 1’s arms snaked out,  insistent fingers seeking my eyebrows. The Man gave up and went back to The Big Bed. In the end, I asked Son 1 to go back to his own bed. And begged Son 2 to go to sleep.  We were wakened well after 9am by the phone. Nanna ringing to find out today’s plans.  The Man and Son 1 were upstairs in the Big Bed watching Sponge Bob.  Son 1 wanted to make a spoon pirate.  “After swimming,” I said. He ignored me, and made one while he was eating his pancake.

We went to the Town Pool. Nanna sat at the side and watched. Teenaged Niece is 18 and a champion swimmer, with a Sharon Davies figure, natural blonde hair, huge baby-blue eyes,  Californian-style braces on gleaming white teeth and an unstoppable laugh.  She was dazzling.   Into the pool, laughing and splashing, came Best Friend and Best Friend’s Little Brother.  Wednesday Mum followed behind. She took one look at Teenaged Niece and said “What did you bring her for?” “Because now I know no-one will be looking at my skanky swimsuit,” I said.  Son 1 and Best Friend were overjoyed to see each other, inseparable, and high with happiness.  Son 1 hasn’t seen Best Friend since his birthday.  The fact that they’re in different schools is a secret source of regret. But they live 200 yards from the Outstanding Village School with the 16-place reception class. And we don’t.   I spent all the time with Son 2… Teenaged Niece played with the older boys, diving in, popping up and swimming under, sleek as a seal. Son 2 is also a natural swimmer, doing two widths - each time because he wanted to go somewhere else.  Plenty of jumping, playing in the bubble baths and splashing in the warm water coming out of the jets.

Back home Nanna, Teenaged Niece and the boys went upstairs to watch telly.  I made cups of tea and started on lunch. After a coffee and a little read of the paper. I went upstairs and announced I was going to sit down for five minutes. Son 2 dropped his frog bottle on the carpet and, because he’d loosened the top, it burst open, spilling what seemed like several gallons of pineapple juice. Oh I wish I’d taken it better. I made dinner, roast chicken, roast potatoes, sweetcorn, spinach, carrots and leeks. The Man came in and made onion gravy. Son 1 came down with Teenaged Niece and made another spoon pirate.  By the time the meal was ready, Son 2 could hardly stand. He managed a bit of food, but just wanted to flop on me.  Son 1 did better. After TN and Nanna had gone we rubbed our latest anti-lice goo - which we think is neat petrol - into the boys’ hair and combed through. When they were asleep  The Man and I put the petrol on our heads and checked each other.  Love is…

1.  Souvenirs

2.  Keepsakes

3.  A Lovesome Thing

Thank Heavens and Stars we didn’t have to get up for school.  Son 1 aged 5 was already in the Double Bed with us, Son 2 aged 2 roared: “I WANT MY MUMMY!” We brought him in with us, and tried to settle them both back to sleep.  “Big Poo.” Ah.  I switched the light on to change him. Son 1 reached over and switched it off again.  I took Son 2 into the bathroom.  I’d picked up two lollies on my Office trip, and had stuffed them in my vanity case.  He found them instantly. “I wan’ lollipop! I wan’ lollipop!” “No,” I said. “You can have one later.” “I wan’ lollipop!” He burst into tears. “Son 1 will go back to sleep if you keep the noise down,” called The Man. I took Son 2 downstairs. 

We had to take Granny back to the Airport, and decided we would stop off in the Big Town. Granny gave Son 1 a ten pound note, and it was smouldering in his pocket.  I needed to take back part of Son 1’s uniform - the shop had given me an aged 8 size instead of aged 5. Son 1 wanted to go to the Early Learning Centre to look at the toys.  The Man and Granny said they’d go and swap the clothes, and I could stay with the boys. “You can all go,” said Son 1. “I will look at toys and  wait for you.” “No,” said The Man. “We need someone with you to supervise.” “I have super eyes!” Son 1said. “I will look at all the toys and make sure I see everyone. I have the best eyes, don’t I Mummy?”  Son 1 chose a PIrates and Baddies spoons set, and Son 2 wanted a little farm.   How do people keep on top of toys?  We have so many we can barely all fit in The House, and The Man and I have Deep and Earnest (= Somewhat  Shouty) conversations about how The House is full of tat.   

We waved Granny off and went to Nanna’s. No-one in. I’d left my mobile at home. We climbed over various plants, spread out the car rug, got out the boys’ tuck box and a ball from the car, and settled down to read the Early Learning Centre catalogue.  Bees buzzed and big Red Admirals settled on the Michaelmas daisies. The sun shone.  The boys played with Son 2’s farm, and Son 1 whined that he wanted to make his pirates.  Son 1 needed a poo.  It was a difficult moment. All we could do was aim him at an open nappy and fold everything up into a nappy bag.  Son 2 announced he’d done a poo. We’d just used the last nappy. We’d waited an hour, but we had to go. Back home there was a message on the mobile.  Nanna and Teenaged Niece had been delayed.  I rang them and we agreed to meet tomorrow. It was good to be back in the Big Bed.

1.   Hoarse

2.   Croaking

3.   Rasping

I’ve got a throat infection from somewhere. Voice has gone, feeling hot and bothered and sleepy. Hey ho. I spent today travelling back after a night away because of an Office Thing yesterday.  I was with three colleagues, so I didn’t have to drive. We spent hundreds of miles talking, eating sherbert lemons and ringing our mates. I was aiming at a 3.15pm appointment at Son 1 aged 5’s School - the replacement appointment for the Parents’ evening I can’t make.  I got to the School in time, and then got stuck in the queue of cars waiting to go in. Another advantage to being  a Working Mother. You have genuinuely no idea what happens at the end of the school day.

Mrs Smiley the Teacher was lovely. Happy with Son 1’s reading, maths, communication, It, arts and crafts and PE.  He is Popular And Has Lots Of Friends. A bit of a discussion about how sometimes he seems dreamy, unresponsive and slow to respond. Not as smiley on some days.  How’s his sleeping? Does he share a room with Son 2?  Ah, I croaked. We have had rather a mad Birthday Fest September.  He could be… er.. knackered. “Well I wouldn’t of course say that…” she said. Subtext: That’s Exactly What I Mean.   Poor old Son 1. And then of course I forgot to mention the midnight bed-hopping. “What is the first thing in your head when you wake up at night?” I asked once, wondering if he was having bad dreams. “I think: ‘I’ll go and find Mummy,’” he said. 

Son 1 was excited because he’s completed his third sticker chart. As we drove back I asked him how he’d  got on that morning with Granny and Daddy when I was away. “Don’t know.”  “Was it brilliant, all right, or Truly Terrible.” “Truly Terrible.” “What about last night?”  “That was Truly Terrible too.” Son 2 aged 2 was delighted to see me, and then wouldn’t let go.  Neither he nor Son 1 like my creature-from-the-black-lagoon voice.  Granny had made them individual cottage pies for tea, and they did all right.    Nanna rang. Teenaged Niece is staying for a College Open Day. Can we see them tomorrow. We are taking Granny back to the Airport, but we will try, I said.

1.  Rising

2.  Shining

3.  Sinking

The Man slept with Son 2 aged 18m last night.  Son 2 started crying at 5.30am. “Mama.” I went downstairs. “Watch out,” hissed The Man. “Son 1’s in here as well.  I’ll take him upstairs.”  Son 1 aged 4y 5m was staying with Son 2 and Mummy.  I lay in the double bed, with one of them on each arm. They dozed.  A quiet moment of loveliness. The Man shifted position.  Son 2 woke up.  Son 2 was getting up. And so were we.  We made it out of the house on time, leaving The Man with the responsibility of posting the cards for Teenaged Niece’s 18th birthday tomorrow.

I managed to combine my trip to The City with Son 1’s Spring Play.  An hour and a half on the road,  a productive morning, and then haring back.  Within the speed limit of course.   A beautiful morning and afternoon, very pleasant walking down to the Nursery.  Loads of parents sitting near the front.  I picked a pair of chairs at the back, next to Year 4’s cubist collages on the wall.  The Man arrived.  The children filed in and Son 1’s face lit up when he saw us.  “Where’s my brother?” he asked.  Son 1 was of course Talented and Marvellous.  I waved.  He waved back.    All show long.  Even The Man was at it.  A tot of about 20m or so made friends with The Man.  Laid his head on his leg.  patted his tummy, played with his watch and chatted up at him.  The Man was petrified and kept hissing: “Go to your mummy.” Little One wandered off, but tottered back, again and again.  On stage, Son 1 asked “Mummy where’s Son 2?” .The children sang the song about Mummy doing the shopping and the washing and the cooking Because She Loves Us.  I asked Son 1 if he’d sung the verse I’d taught him, where Mummy works full-time and has two degrees.  ”Mummy has two deggees,” he obligingly warbled.  

Son 2 was back home with Wonder Nanny.  We arrived home and he laughed and laughed. This morning he did bah for bath (and ball,) and di di di for Diggers are good at dig dig digging.  Wonder Nanny said he’d been playing with his ambulance, and then stood up and patted his bottom. “Have you done a poo?” she’d asked.  Mad nodding. I think the mad nodding also now comes with an “issss.”  He was tired, and clingy and fretful.  He’s got a horrible cough and a cold.  Just when we’ve got a big weekend planned.  And I’ve got a horrible feeling that Teenaged Niece’s 18th birthday may have been today.

1.   Dawn Presence

2.   Perfect Presents

3.   Present Tense

The Man was away overnight.  I woke at 0615, aware of a presence, a pitter-patter of footsteps, the light touch of hands feeling for me in the dark and a whispered: “Mummy I want a wee.”  “Ok-don’t-worry-I’ll-put-a-light-on.” “It’s coming. Now.”  “Okay-okay-okay.”  We sorted him out, and then Son 1 aged 4y 2m climbed into bed. The idea was that we would cuddle in the cold and have a little snooze.  He didn’t stop talking.  We went downstairs for snacks and drinks, and then heard Son 2 aged 15 m wailing.  “Go upstairs and look after him while I bring the tray up.” Up he went.  Son 2 stopped crying.  When I got up Son 1 had put the lights on, put a balloon in his brother’s cot and was bouncing on the bed to entertain him.  A natural.  I might get him to babysit.

I Christmas-ed shopped at lunchtime.  Nanna is going to see The Family on Saturday, so my meagre pile of presents needed boosting.  And Nanna is going on the train, so the presents must be no weight.  She wanted make-up, which I think is quite cool as she is a lady of a certain age.  I only really managed to get hers, but I was pleased with it.  I looked everywhere for light presents suitable for The Brother and The Godfather.  Socks. Belts. Hankies.  Stuff it we’ll have to pay for lunch next time they visit. Teenaged Niece and Nephew are going to have money, which is all they want anyway.  And then I bought two more books for Son 1.  I had a long, long look for stocking fillers for Son 2.  I really am finding him very hard.  He’s got an ambulance Son 1 picked for his birthday that he likes, but other than it’s remote controls, computers, wires, phones and stairs.  And books. He likes books.  His latest trick is climbing up on the piles in Son 1’s room and surfing down on the top book, but he does like looking at them as well.

The Man came back from his Business Trip, which was a third Good Thing.   He had the shower on for Son 1 when I came up the stairs, which meant he didn’t hear Son 2 screaming because he’d caught his little baby fingers in a cupboard door.  I keep thinking I should just let Son 2 learn the hard way not to play with doors … but then I flash forward to the interview in the Guardian: “I lost the use of my right hand when I was a year old and my fingers got flower-pressed in the door hinge.”  We did the whole of Son 1’s babyhood with just two stair gates, so we still don’t quite believe the way Son 2 climbs on the the things we put down to stop him climbing.  We’re sure that his accepting, biddable side will emerge in a few more weeks.

1.  The Family

2.  The Garden

3. 1820

Teenaged niece has been sea-swimming again.  She, Teenaged Nephew, Brother and Sister In Law stayed with Mother over the weekend.  The competition finished too late each day to see us, so we met up late this morning for an early lunch.  TNc won a gold medal.  For a 1k run on the sand.  Brother and Mother like the Harbourside Brasserie.  Glamorous 22 year old graduate is working there as a waitress.  We had her hungover friend.  Son 1 aged 3 y 11m dealt with the wait for food in his usual way, and I picked him up, plonked him outside in The Big Pram and told him I’d come back when he was behaving.  “Go away,” he said when I went back.  “I’m having a nice peaceful rest here.”   Son 2 aged 11m dutifully chewed his egg, potato and cheese sauce, The chips came.   He nearly bounced out of his seat with excitement. I’d given him a couple of chips last Tuesday when we were out with Wonder Nanny.  Oh God. I didn’t realise that’s all it takes to create a junk food addict.

Son 1 had packed a deflated beach ball to play with his cousins in The Square.  They did this last summer, and he remembered.  Spooky memory.  Poor old TNp was red in the face and had really had enough.  We said our goodbyes and pushed the Pram and buggy back through the town.  Neither child slept.  Son 1 was borderline, but then we passed the last pub before home, and our Little Friend from The Big Zoo was there with his Dad.  So they came round for tea, smoothies and a play in the garden with the bubble gun.  I tried to do a bit more work on the bindweed.  It has superglued itself to a roll of Astro-turf like stuff we have outside, waiting for us to get around to putting it across some gravel to make another play area.  No point in worrying about Global Warming. While there is bindweed there will always be life.

The great, glad, glorious and grand thing about the boys not sleeping during the day was that they were faces in plates with fatigue by teatime.  Son 2 just sat in his highchair and sobbed.  Son 1 couldn’t sit down or still.  I was chopping up vegetables for minestrone soup… but gave up and slung an M and S cottage pie in the mike for them.   Poor old Son 2 was carried away howling.  Son 1 stayed up for ice cream.  But we had them both asleep at 1820.  It was fantastic.  Time to finish the minestrone soup, make salad for us, have a glass of wine, get ready for tomorrow… Wow.  We can have a life.   If we poke them awake all day and then feed them at four o’clock.

1.  Bath-time

2.  2 boys asleep 

3.  The Family

Holiday. The first week off we have together as a family, just us, since Christmas.  I had a bath instead of a shower, with my birthday bubble bath.  And 2 small boys.  Son 2 aged 11m was in first, fascinated by the bubbles, clenching and unclenching his hand, staring at them as they popped.  Son 1 came running in, stripped off and stepped in.  Son 2 instantly started splashing him and laughing. Great big baby hand splashes, and leaning back against me and kicking with his fat legs.  Then he started bouncing - enjoying the bouyancy of a bath far fuller than normal.  I lifted him each time, and he chortled and chortled, splashing Son 1.  Son 1 played with the bubbles.  Son 2 was getting cold, so The Man took him to get him dry.  HOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWLLLLLL.   I used to have baths with Son 1 every Saturday morning.  Today was the second time Son 2’s had a bath with me.  Pang.

We gave the boys an early lunch, and then headed into Town.  Son 1 was playing up, Son 2 was screeching - both with tiredness.    So.  Son 2 in the Big Pram.  Son 1 in the buggy.  We figured we could push them to The Square on the other side of Town and they’d be asleep, and then we could have a coffee.   By the time we got across Town, Son 1 was dozing.  Then something being loaded into a shop dropped with a loud clatter, and he nearly leapt out of the buggy.  I saw his hands flail out at the sides like a startled newborn, but he didn’t wake.  They were both asleep when we got to the cafe.  We ordered coffee. Workmen were dismantling the Festival marquee in The Square.  Even before the drinks arrived, a pole was dropped.  CLANG.    A loud wail from the Big Pram.  Son 2 didn’t go back to sleep.        

The family came down from Far Far Away.  Teenaged Niece has been competing in a sea swimming contest over the weekend, about an hour’s drive from us.  She, Sister In Law and Teenaged Nephew were coming over for a cup of tea before heading home this afternoon.  They’re back down again at the weekend.   It took us about half an hour to wake Son 1.  He’s always adored his cousins and he was delighted.  TNc and TNp were young and charming.  She’d won silver medals, and talked about drinking games while she was competing in Germany.  He had huge headphones on the whole time “Have you heard of Coldplay?” and was pestering SiL to get him the latest Artemis Fowl.   ”More sleep, but different challenges,” said Sister In Law.