1.  Pirates

2.  Lunch a deux

3.  The Cot

Back in with Son 2 aged 21m as I’m still not sleeping. Wakened by “Mummmeeee.” I peered round the pile of pillows I’d put between me and the cot to stop him seeing me. He peered back. “Boo,” he said.  I picked him up. “Wa-wa,” he said, pointing to the  glass on the bedside table.  I gave him a gulp, and laid him down beside me in the double bed. “Up,” he said.  Son 1 aged 4y 9m was already downstairs watching telly with The Man.  Son 1 has been busting for me to play pirates with him.  Pang.  I played it with him on Sunday but cannot remember the last time we played together before then.  He had the treasure, the monsters and the Tower Of Doom. My pirates were going to attack the castle. I put together an airforce of four Peter Pans and Tinkerbell, ready to attack his three-headed dragon. I took my eye off the Playmobil pirates for an instant and they’d been scalped, their earrings stolen. “Earrings are treasure,” I was told. Son 1 is Very Particular about how the Playmobil pirates are dressed - they can never vary from how they came out of their boxes. I’d put them together any old how.  Every now and then, during the battle, Son 1 stopped and looked at my efforts, shaking his head. “That is just so wrong.”  Afterwards, he and Wonder Nanny dressed them properly. She of course knows every set of cuffs and kerchiefs.

The Man and I left the boys with Wonder Nanny and went for lunch.  For us, a Good Thing.  We decided to move Son 2 into Son 1’s bedroom so I can read in bed if I can’t sleep.   We want them in together, and this week is a good time because I’m off and can sort/get up if things don’t work out.  

When we got back Wonder Nanny left for a doctor’s appointment.  The boys and I watched Ice Age.     ”Son 1, would you like to have Son 2 ’s cot in with you?” “Yes! Yes! Let’s move it now!” “Son 2, would you like us to put your cot in Son 1’s room so you can sleep with him?” “No.”  Wails from Son 1. Clearly, Son 2 hadn’t understood.  “Would you like to sleep with Son 1?” “No.”   I gave it one more shot. “Shall we put your cot next to Son 1’s bed?” “No.”  And yet it moved.  I really don’t think Son 2 was happy, but Son 1 was delighted.   I lay Son 2 down in the cot.  In the same position, in the same place Son 1 used to sleep, till he was about 2y 9m, when we moved him into his bed to get the cot clear for the arrival of Son 2.  Another Pang, and I don’t think it was back trouble.

1.  Tower

2.  Towel

3.  Trowel

I ended up in the Double Bed in Son 2 aged 21m’s room last night. With Son 2 and Son 1 aged 4y 9m. Didn’t work. Son 1 kept trying to reach across Son 2 to eyebrow me. Son 2 didn’t want him anywhere near him. Son 2 kept snaking off under the pillows, crying when he went too fast and bumped the top of his head on the wall.  Son 1 didn’t want him in the middle. In the end I put Son 2 back in the cot and passed out.   We stuck a Wiggles DVD on when they woke, but that didn’t work either.  Son 1 wanted to play with his Tower Of Doom.  I tugged it out from the corner of the room. Son 1 presented me with a dead fly he’d found on it.  We decided to clean it out.  Son 1 pelted off to get the duster.  A four year old in Bob The Builder pyjamas dusting off the battlements with a green feather tickling-stick was weirdly camp.  Son 2 earnestly rubbed with baby wipes.  Imagine. If I’d had girls there’d be a dolls house with matching pink furniture instead of a castle whose residents include a dragon with three heads and a lion with two. 

Son 1 was shrieking loud enough to peel the wallpaper off so I took both boys swimming. The only place that’ll have us is a Hotel Pool - we need more adults everywhere else - too deep for either child to stand.  Which makes it tricky. We had a good time, but Son 1 craves attention and a partner in his games, and Son 2, butch, bullish, braveheart that he is,  isn’t as confident as Son 1 was at the same age.  He can float along on his armbands but sees no reason why he should, and always sends a little fat hand out for my swimming costume.  He got tired, quickly, and pointed at his Tigger robe, draped over a handrail. “Towel. Towel.”  We span it out another 20 minutes.

After lunch we planted out our sunflower plants into big pots ready for our race. Nightmare. Son 2 took out handfuls of compost out of pots and spreading it over our astroturf. http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2008/06/11/boiling/ The Man got precious about the astroturf. “Weeds will grow in it.” Son 1 tried fending off Son 2, with predictable results.   It rained. Hard. We eventually got six pots, one each, one for Wonder Nanny and a sparee.  Son 2 looked longingly at the compost in the finished pots and went for a fistful.  I fended him off. With predictable results.  We have new pots, we have six foot 17p bamboo canes, we have our only sunny spot. We are off.

1.  Life Of Mammals

2.  A New Best Friend

3.  Coming Out Of The Shell

Up a little later.  Linked to going to bed a little later.  At about 2am, after Turkey Casserole for 9.  All right then, for eight, because we had a no-show.  All right then, for six, because there were two vegetarians.    We’ve served up Turkey Casserole about now for years, and the fact we can still do it is a Good Thing.  BC we weren’t bad at having People Round.  And now we’re… still doing Turkey Casserole, hooray, what a positive blog this is.  So the pace was a little slower first thing.  Even Son 2 aged 15m slept in till 8am.  A telly morning.  Of course, we only watch Nature Documentaries,  so Son 1aged 4y 3m watched whales on Life of Mammals, spellbound.  Son 2 pointed at the screen and opened and closed his mouth like a fish.  He climbed into Son 1’s Tower of Doom, sat in it and then couldn’t get out.

Son 2 has an Elegant Aunt, who gave him a tasteful pullalong wooden snail for Christmas.  He mastered it today.   The telly watching allowed him to make many many laps of the lounge.  Son 1 unleashed hell, often,  by taking it off him.  The snail has been in the kitchen, in the lounge, and was finally taken upstairs at bathtime.  It was still being towed it back and forth while Son 1 was in the shower.  I had to thwart a conspiracy to put the snail in the bath.  Son 2 likes Monkey Puzzle and The Gruffalo.  Snail and The Whale day, I thought.  Touch and go.  Not that interested.  Liked the penguins, the bear, the stranded whale and the fire engine.  Then realised you’re allowed to drive your snail back and forth over the pages every time the word “snail” is mentioned.  Now you’re talking.

I went out for a run.  I’ve made lots of excuses to myself over the past week, too tired, too busy, Granny and Granddad here, too late.  The main reason has been the wind.  Too Cold.  So I wrapped up in big thick hat, gloves and gilet and overboiled.  To the Bridge Over The River and back.  The pace at the end of the day was also slow.  I thought about The Blog, and I thought about Mumsnet.  I parked my Blog here without asking, I lurk on the threads, I learn loads and offline I am often talking about the things I see here.  It makes a huge difference to me.  It is A Good Thing.

1.  Past

2.  Present

3.  Yet-To-Come

We are slowly but surely leaving babyhood behind.  I feel like I’m on the deck of a ship looking back at a land I won’t visit again.  Pang.  Walking is now the preferred mode of getting about.  There is still a lot of plonking down on the bottom, there is still some dropping down and crawling, there is still a lot of pushing child-size plastic chairs up and down the kitchen (being lapped by Son 1 aged 4y 2m doing the same thing.)  But 90% of the time Son 2 aged 14m is, without thinking,  choosing to walk.  It’s great.  Feet wide apart, eyes bright, and very often carrying something at the same time.  Being Son 2 there is of course a fair crack of pace already.

The new way to Son 1’s Nursery goes past the Old Nursery.  Son 1 always waves as we go by.  “Shall we take them a Christmas Card and a present?” I asked this morning.  So after I picked him up tonight we pulled over and I rang.  And we dropped in.  Four nursery nurses there to greet us, all of whom were there when Son 1 started aged < 6m.  They cooed over Son 1 in his uniform.  Haven’t-you-grown, they exclaimed.  How we miss Son 2.   Son 1 gripped my leg like a koala up a tree and buried his face in my coat.  He didn’t know any of the children, who were all under 3 years old.   It’s still loving, and it’s still lovely, but we were right to move him.

Today’s other Achievement was a pile of Christmas Shopping. Tower of Doom, various monsters, angler fish set and a Ben 10 Omnitrix for Son 1.  And a farm puzzle and a Winnie The Pooh bath set for Son 1.  Yes I know there’s a slight imbalance there.  What does everyone else do?  Son 2 is impossible.  He doesn’t play with any age-appropriate toys.  He likes Son 1’s toys.  The more chew-off-and-choke pieces, the better.  His Favourite Thing Ever is switching the telly off. Pressing the button to make the DVD drawer come out.  Playing with (adult) mobile phones.  Pressing the house phone buttons (so far no emergency services have been summoned, but it’s only a matter of time.)  Shape sorters and plastic talking toys simply won’t Shake His Pot.  He might have to have the Omnitrix.