1.   Noise

2.   Toys

3.   Boys

A quiet night from Son 2 aged 14m.  Fireworks this morning though.  The Man brought the boys up their snack - banana and apple pieces.  “I want grapes,” said Son 1 aged 4y 2m. “We haven’t got any grapes,” I said.  Son 1 grizzled a bit.  Son 2 grabbed his tub, peered in, tried throwing it on the floor… grabbed Son 1’s tub, flung the banana and apple on the floor, snatched his own again and succeeded in throwing the contents out… and then hurled his Doidy cup of milk across the chair and mirror.  It was a spectacular piece of tantruming, just because he didn’t have grapes in his tub.  He was dumped back in his cot and left to stew.  Well, boil would be a more accurate description.  Jaysus if he’s like this now what happens when he’s had time to practise?

Getting Son 1 to Nursery on time was a Good Thing.  We left late, the roads were awful, and I decided to try another route which was ok until we ended up in a long stationary queue.  I’m usually pretty patient in traffic, but we’d already been late twice and I really felt like Flinging My Tub. We got there on time though, and I even saw the teacher for the first time in a week.  I like the way Son 1 goes into Nursery now.  Eyes darting around to see what the others are doing, checking out all the different toys out in all the different places… his brain really switches instantly to What-Am-I-Playing-With, rather than I-Want-My-Mum.

Back home after The Office Son 2 reached and shrieked for me as soon as I walked in, and then, once he’d clamped himself to my shoulder started looking round for the next bit of action.  I did some books with him and got him in his bath.  Son 1 went in the shower, Son 2 sat at the plug end playing with the bubbles, the Winnie The Pooh squirters and some plastic jugs.  Son 1 was cleaning toys and polishing the shower screen.  They were both enchantingly engrossed in their own games.  For two minutes, till Son 1 “accidentally” poured soapy water in Son 2’s eyes.  Waaaaaaaaaaahhhhh.  It was hard settling him again, but we made it.  Six weeks since I stopped feeding him, and I think he’s now happy with milk from a cup and water from a glass.

1.  Toothache

2.  Begrudging Beijing

3.  Driven

Son 2 aged 1 has four whopping great canines coming through at once, plus one odd front tooth on the bottom.  He’s sleeping badly, he’s cross when he wakes up, he doesn’t want to be put down, he doesn’t want to play with Son 1 aged 4.  All he wants to do is be carried around with his head on my shoulder.  We are now at the end of our two-week Birthday Fest, and we are all knackered, so today was Toys, Telly and Tidying.  Poor old Son 2 wrote off the first part of the morning - I could do nothing because he would not be put down.  So I put him to bed.  I lay down with him to soothe him to sleep… and he snapped awake whenever I moved.  In the end I had to leave him in the cot to cry.

One Wednesday Mother is on a Business Trip to Beijing.  Earlier this year she had a Business Trip to Borneo. We remaining Mothers are very pleased for her.  The other Wednesday Mum came round with her 2 year old (the 4 year old is at school.)  Aged 2 fell down the stairs, hollered and woke Son 2.  Son 1 and Aged 2 dressed up, Son 1 in his new Fireman Sam outfit and Aged 2 as Sportacus. The boys had cartons of smoothie.  Son 2 instantly demanded a share.   The visitors didn’t stay long, and I got the boys lunch and put Son 2 down.  He slept for three hours.

Son 1 and I watched his new Sinbad DVD, played with his new airport, played with Son 2’s toy ambulance and did some colouring.  Son 1 was tired, lying down a lot, sitting on me to watch telly, sitting on the floor.  We didn’t get any tidying done. Son 2 woke up, I started tea and The Man came home.  And Son 1 transformed into Wild Child, getting up from his tea constantly, sword-fighting and hitting both of us with a balloon left over from the party.  So I popped it and threw it out. “Oh bother,” said Son 1. I think the problem was me playing with Son 2 during tea - with a balloon.  I was pleased to see Son 2 smiling again and showing an interest in life… Son 1 couldn’t handle the sight.  He clung to me during Son 2’s reading time too.  Their need for me is simple, over-powering and incredible.  I’m sure I was never like that with Nanna. Hadn’t I been shoved out into the snow with a broom at their age?         

1.  Consternation

2.  Preparation

3.  Celebration

The last day of The Festival, with a big Celebration out on the water.  The Man being away, I arranged with last night’s friends that we’d go out on The Boat - he is also a sailor, and more relevantly, he had the key.  So, we got up, Son 2 aged 1 squawking chattily at about 0630… I ended up in a comedy hour of trying to get my second cup of coffee, but being thwarted by Son 1 demanding his new duck archer toy, Son 2 bolting for the stairs every five minutes, my control freaky need to read 5 stories to Son 2 without the telly on the background, and Son 1 aiming his plastic duck archers, loaded with arrows at Son 2’s head.  I lined up the Scooby Doo monsters on the window seat for him to blast at instead.  Unfortunately, Son 2, in the middle of the double bed, saw them, thought they looked very interesting and pelted off to investigate.  Forgetting again, that the bed ends and the floor is hard. Especially hit head first with a twisted neck because your legs haven’t fallen clean to the ground because the cot’s in the way.     

I ended up with a mad hour, Granny Murray fashion, cleaning, washing, wiping, changing, slicing, sandwich-making, packing, tea-defrosting, filling, stacking, grabbing, stuffing, zipping…  The Man friend came up to carry the bags down, and the boys and I set off.  On to the launch, on to The Boat.. start on lunch.  Son 2 wanted to eat everything.  Son 1 didn’t want anything in our lunch box, and only cared about the things emerging from our friends’.  Son 2 was enjoying pulling up and shifting round.  Then a wake wave rocked the boat and toppled him back, his head hitting the deck with a thunk.   Twice in one morning. Mummy must be more careful.

The Celebration was just fantastic.  There were hundreds, if not a thousand boats out there, everything from bathtub-sized dinghies under sail to ribs and race yachts and ferries and tugs and monster-rich motor cruisers.  The boys waved and waved at everyone passing… at the peak it all got close enough to shake hands.    We saw loads of people we know… and just had a great time chugging up and down enjoying the spectacle.  We pushed it a bit as far as the children were concerned.  Son 1 and his Friend went into overtired overdrive and sought attention with little cry-for-help activities like removing the scuppers and chucking them in the rope locker… “there isn’t anything to play, Mummy.”  But we got away with it with bribery (again) and got back at about 4pm.  And I got both boys to bed and asleep at 7pm.

1.  That is My Penguin

2.  Wooden sword 1

3.  Wooden sword 2

The children slept all night.  So it rained so hard, so often, that I woke up again and again.  Son 2 aged 11m is so mobile now.  He still sits on the bathroom floor playing with his toys while I have a shower, but now he crawls over to the interesting-looking bleach bottles, or Son 1 aged 3y 10m’s loo seat.  We did some stories… his touch and feel animal skins book… and all three That’s Not Mys.  Son 1 said “Let’s do That’s Not My Penguin,” and Son 2 put his sticky little hand out at the right one…

Two lots of shopping today.  One during my break, one after work.  I went to TK Maxx to look for birthday presents for the boys, unsuccessfully.  Then I went to the posh wooden toy shop which is full of bee-yoo-ti-ful things.  The sort of toys I would have bought for children before we had any of our own.  If I had known any children.  If I had known what children like.  I bought Son 1 a wooden sword, like the ones John and Michael play with in his Peter Pan book.  And I bought Son 2 a set of nursery rhyme finger puppets, which I thought Son 1 and I could use to sing him songs.  And a great tom-tom rattle.    After work I ran round Tesco, worrying that every minute I spent there was a minute less before bedtime.  But hopefully I’ve saved some time for tomorrow when I’m off.  I need to simplify our eating, so I’ve bought more jars and short cut food.  If I mix it with the contents of the large organic veg box we may yet stave off rickets and scurvy.

Son 1 and Son 2 have been up to The Castle with Wonder Nanny for Pirate Day.  There was a puppet show and pirates.  Son 2 slept for 10 minutes.  Because there was also a cannon.  “Did you have a good time at the Pirate Day?” I asked Son 1. “It was brilliant,” he said. “But I missed you very much.”  Pa-ang.  He was allowed to choose one toy from the shop, costing less than £5.  He chose… a wooden sword.  He is chest-swellingly proud of it.  “I am Big (Son 1),” he said, looking in the mirror.  “Take that.”   He started sword-fighting with the huge shadow cast on the wall and ceiling by the small spotlight in Son 2’s bedroom.  It was art, and it was great.  But I wanted to get Son 2 to sleep so I slung him out into his own room.  

1.  The snooze

2.  Swimming

3.  The new train

Son 2 aged 9m just about made it to 6am this morning.  And Son 1 aged 3 and a half trailed blearily round the door while I was feeding him.  The Man is almost comatose.  A week away and the pace is beating him by length after length.  I sent him upstairs to watch Power Rangers with Son 1.  By 9am Son 2 was ready to collapse, so I lay down on the bed in his room with him, he cried a bit, arched his back a bit, and then off he went to sleep.   Lying beside a sleeping baby is just very nice.  Even now writing this I think I should have just stayed by him for longer, instead of going downstairs to play with Son 1 (= Working Mother “I must play with the other one while the baby is asleep so he has some quality one-to-one time.”)  We divided his jungle animals into meat-eaters and vegetarians.  The vegetarians are the goodies, the meat-eaters are the baddies.  Son 1 is a baddie, and I am a goodie.  Then he steals animals from my line.

Took the boys swimming in the hotel - which lets you go in with two children if there’s only one adult.  I was very keen to take Son 2, who loves it, and Son 1, despite all our efforts, wanted to go again, even though he was exhausted and had his swimming class yesterday.  The Man decided against going.  The hotel pool is ok, a bit cold, but there were plenty of families there, and both Son 1 and Son 2 seemed to have a good time.      It’s harder for me doing both… seeing me with Son 2 just drives Son 1 mad, so I tried very hard to do games that all three of us can play.  I’m getting there though.

Back home The Man was pottering and put a worn out Son 1 in front of a DVD.  I had Son 2 downstairs, playing with the new train we got him yesterday.  Fisher Price, multi-coloured plastic.  Son 2 loves it.  He loves pressing the button, sticking his fingers in the holes in the cubes, eating the cubes, shaking the cubes and making the music play.  Yes we know he’ll be out of it in three months’ time  … but even though we have Chinese container shiploads of toys, we haven’t really got many that are the right age for Son 2.  First time round we borrowed everything, gave them all back as Son 1 outgrew them, and they’ve all been loaned out again to someone else.  Son 2 plays with Son 1’s toys, and he’s got some presents from when he was born… but we seem to have arrived at a little gap in stocks at the moment.    The new train is 6m+ and brings Son 1 in to play with him.  Which is certainly helpful for Mummy… if less so for Son 2.