1.  Babs In The Buck-Buck

2.  You Shall Have A Fishy

3.  Sundowners

Out to the river wall at the end of The Terrace, crabbing again.  The Man baiting two lines with bacon, Son 1 aged 4y 10m happily scooting up and down, me trying to keep Son 2 aged 23 m out of the water.   Eleven crabs.  We all caught them, including Son 2. “Bab! Bab!”  Son 2 is of course still obsessed with fish, and while crabs were ok, yearned for “Fish!  Fish!”  And he also wanted to bait the hooks. “Babon! More Babon!”  We persuaded him to feed bits of babon to the babs in the buck-bucks instead. Son 1 is going to fall in the river.  He is always right on the edge, he has no concept of the incoming tide “Son 1 you really do have to MOVE!” and he doesn’t understand that the green slimy stuff is very very slippery.   Oh well. There is one sure way of his learning…

Still on our fishy theme, we drove to the Garden Centre so Son 1 and Son 2 could have another look at the Fish Shop.  Son 1 is still keen to get a fish tank for his birthday, so we wanted him to have a good look at all the fish for sale to get an idea of what he wants.  Nemo.  Who needs warm, salt water, a tank full of difficult, expensive swaying corals and assorted sci-fi prawnie things to keep the water and the tank clean.  Main diet of prawnie things = expensive corals.   The lad behind the Fish Shop counter recommends tropical fish for a beginner. Easier than goldfish, who are too messy.  The starter tank kit was eye-wateringly expensive. “Son 2, do you want to share Son 1’s fish tank for your birthday present?”  “Yesssss.” Sorted.  They can have toys for Christmas.

They fell asleep in the car on the way back, so The Man and I drove up to the Headland for sneaky whirly whippy ice creams with chocolate flakes in.  We scoffed them guilty while they slept. Back home I went shopping with Son 2 while Son 1 and The Man watched telly.  I got tea, amid protests from Son 2, who couldn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to wash the potatoes. Because we’re having stir fry darling.  Nanna babysat while The Man and I went out to the Hotel With The River View. We sat outside while the sky darkened and the lights across the river came on.

1.  Then And Now

2.  Now

3.  Now And Then

There was a problem at The Office and I needed to ring an out-of-hours helpline to get it sorted.  My mobile rang.  It was The Boy Who Broke My Heart. http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/06/17/fluffy-and-coupon-and-walbert/ ”Serenedays?” he said, gruffly. “It’s TBWBYH” “What, as in TBYBMH, TBYBMH?”  ”Yes. I’m the Duty Manager for The Office supplier. ” “That’s hilarious,” I said. “Is it?” he said.  It was extremely strange. Son 2 aged 22m chattered around at my feet. “Is that your little one?” he asked, as we tried to sort the problem.  “Yes, and there’s another one rattling around somewhere,” I said.  Not a peep for 25 years, then an email exchange, and now here we are, in each other’s mobiles.  Serve me right for not writing back the second time.   And imagine if we hadn’t already pinged emails…   

Back in 2009,  Granny and Granddad turned up and we walked the boys to The Square for pizza.  Son 2 walked nearly all the way, and then fell asleep in The Big Pram. I didn’t take the Buggy for Son 1 aged 4y 9m - feeling, from my Mumsnet-gained knowledge of what everyone else does, that he probably is Too Big For Pushchairs.  We had lunch, Son 1 ate well, Son 2, who woke up half way through, didn’t.  I had a glass of wine and a coffee, an achievement which always counts as a Good Thing.  Getting Son 1 back was tortuous. We should have taken the Buggy.

Granny and Granddad went back to The Hotel, we watched telly. Then Son 1 decided he wanted to cycle down to see them on his trike.  “And me, And me!” cried Son 2.  So Son 1 pedalled down, and I pushed Son 2 on his plastic scootalong car. Backbreaking. Son 2 loved it though. He scooted and steered, and smiled, smiled, smiled. At the hotel we had wine and they had pineapple juice.  We flopped in plastic chairs on the smokers’ terrace; they zinged about leaving toys for the waiters to fall over.  BC, The Man and I used to go and sit in the smoking sections of pubs and cafes to get away from other people’s children.  And now we have all been moved outside.

1.  A Big Day

2.  A Day Off

3.  A Long Day

Nanna’s Birthday.  She is A Grand Old Age.  Son 1 aged 4y 8m, Son 2 aged 21m and I picked her up and drove over to The City to watch the Wiggles.   We arrived at the same time as hoards of other under-fives. ”Food!” said Son 2, trying to rip his way into the tuck bag as soon as we got through the sliding doors. “Food! Food! Food!”  I tried to give him a sandwich. “Cips!”  “Cips!”   I wasn’t sure about the Wiggles.  A Mumsnet talkboard raved about them, they were on Nanna’s Big Day, and we needed an outing.  But I am now enslaved.   Just go. You deserve it. Don’t, whatever you do, ruin it by taking children.  Son 1 bellowed out the names as they bounded on, and I was oh-how-sweet, he knows who they are.  Afterwards, Son 1 asked: “Who’s your favourite Wiggle Mummy?” “Anthony,” I said. “Guess why.” “Because he likes to run around and have lots of fun, doesn’t he?” “Yes, yes,” said I.  Mmmm. WLTM. Abs of rock. Does Handstands. Drums. Likes children. Filthy rich.  I can now, for the first time in my life, compose a lonely hearts ad.  

On the way back, Son 1 said: “Where’s Daddy?” “Having a day off,” I said. A Father’s Day present.  I left it a few beats. “Do you think Daddy has too many days off?” I asked.  “Yes.” “Do you think it might be someone else’s turn to have a day off?”  “Yes I do. When we get back, I will say, Daddy, we will have the next day off.  It’s our turn. It’s your turn to do all the tidying.”  Oh lambo.  You are the centre of your universe and you cannot conceive of a world where grown ups long for time without you.   Oh all right, I don’t.  From every quarter I am urged to take time off from them.  But I can’t spend a minute without them when I’m not at work. 

The Man bought balloons and did an al fresco strawberries and cream tea for Nanna. We made the boys have hummous and dips, and then brought out plate upon plate of  scones, strawberries, jam and a victoria sponge.     Nanna’s mother always gave her strawberries on her birthday.  We put candles on the Victoria Sponge, and Son 1 bossily shoved Son 2 out of the way so that he could blow them out. We are out of matches, so I went downstairs to light one from the cooker. I doughtily carried it upstairs and the wind blew it out.  Eventually Son 2 followed me down the kitchen, and I let him blow out candles there. “More. More.”  We took Nanna out for dinner at The Hotel With The River View. She had chicken, I had butternut squash curry, The Man had steak.  After, we sat outside on the terrace enjoying the fine Long Evening Before The Solstice.  Nanna rang Elder Sister to tell her about her day.  “They were fantastic,” she said.  “They were on air for an hour and a half and they never stopped. They did everything, and they were so entertaining.”  Nanna knows her stuff. She has, in her time, seen  people like Judy Garland and Danny Kaye live.