1.  Greetings

2.   Vision

3.  Lights

I am trying to heave myself out of bed earlier, so when Son 2 aged 23m cried, I gave The Man just enough time to get to him first for the nappy change.  Son 2 called ”Mummy! Mummy!” at the sound of my tread on the stairs. The Man attended the business end on the changing mat… I had the little starfish hands reaching for me and giggles and smiles and shining eyes. 

The Man came into The Big Town, and we met for lunch. A Good Thing. He ordered for me before I got there.  There was me planning to have a green salad and mineral water, and he went and ordered hummous, ciabatta and a cappacino. Dang him.  Opposite the cafe is the optician, where weeks ago I ordered new contact lenses.  And week after week I’ve forgotten to pick them up. The Man marched me in to make sure.   I’ve been dangerously short-sighted all my life.  I knew vaguely that you get more long-sighted as you grow older, and I thought vaguely that meant I’d have perfect vision one day. Even if starting from my base line I’d need to live to be 900 to benefit. So it’s been a sad shock to realise that the near focus just… goes.  And, as you can probably tell, reading is my whole world.  Still. I travel hopefully.  My lenses are still in the bag. They will solve it all.

The Man worked very, very late last night, and I did books, bath and bed on my own. I  got back this evening and the boys were watching CBeebies.  Television After Tea!  Hell in a handcart.  They were, The Man said, sitting quietly watching it till I got in. Can’t think what made them leap up and down screaming.  No need to be that loud once the telly was off. There were fireworks at 10pm for the end of the Festival.  Son 1 insisted we wake him. “I’m a big boy! I can get up!” We woke him. He sprawled out on the window seat, his vision obscured by the window frame.  Lights and patterns exploded in the misty sky.  He drowsed. “Take me back to bed.” The Man obliged.

1.  Whiteout

2.  Green slime

3.  Red eyes

A murmer from Son 2 aged 15m this morning, and The Man was gone.  I passed out again.  And was woken when a wall of light exploded in my brain.  It burned my eyes and seared my skull like it was bleaching my roots from the inside.  TheMan, I thought fuggily. Itmustbelateandhewantsmeup.  A flutter beside me.  “Mummy here’s a present for you.  I found it. ” Son 1 aged 4y 3m.  I’d left a tub of eyecream under the tree yesterday, because I knew what it was, and because I was busy.  “I’m sorry I opened it.” “That’sallright.Turnthelightoff.”  “I can’t reach the light.”  “You can reach the light. You turned it on.” “I can only reach it to turn it on.  I can’t reach it to turn it off.”

Son 1 had several pirate things for Christmas, including a game in which you fill a plastic skull with slime and have to fish plastic coins out of it.  I checked the list written in haste on a Christmas card.  I didn’t write down who it was from.  That means we can’t thank them.  I put Son 2 to bed, we filled up  the skull and off we went.  Son 1 fished with relish while I checked his coins were the right ones.  I got good at flicking through the ones in the slime to see which ones they were.  The Man lost, but he was the only one with a clean hand at the end.  There was a lot of slime on the FT, and a lot down Son 1’s top.  He won.  Granny and Granddad arrived as I was washing the coins, and declined the offer of a game with our champion.

Son 2 ate leek and potato soup for lunch, which was a Good Thing because he’s eaten nothing but sausages and sweets for the last two days.  Granny stayed in, and Granddad, The Man and I walked the boys down to The Square.  Son 2 was swaddled up in the Big Pram, Son 1 was in his parkha and my big leather gloves.  Son 1 ran and chattered all the way down.  Unfortunately he misunderstood what The Man said we were doing, which was walk down to The Museum and have a coffee in The Square while the children ran about.  Son 1 thought that meant we were going in the Museum.  And it was shut.  He howled and real tears flooded his face.  He rode on The Man’s shoulders on the way back.  The walk did him good - he was asleep before we’d finished his stories tonight.  Son 2 went down well, but has just been up for ages, and The Man’s gone in to sleep with him.  Instant quiet.  It’s got to be teeth.  Those big ‘uns deep in his jaw bone.  The clue is in the way he stands up and gnaws the rail of the cot while he cries indefatigibly for rescue.

1.  Awakening

2.  Shopping

3.  Skating

6am. Son 2 aged 13m wailed; The Man went down; Son 1 aged 4y 1m joined them.  I dozed upstairs.  Son 1 came up.  “Son 2 is saying Ma Ma.  Come down.” “Iwillinaminute,” I mumbled.  The Man switched the light on and off and on and off.     Son 2 is lovely, toddling off to pull books down from the shelf, sitting still(ish) while we read them.  And then he wants our shower.   I get out first, and then ask him to pull out the plug so I can get him out.  Unfortunately he’s now started to pull the plug out in his evening bath as well.  Then he wants his breakfast.  Meanwhile Son 1 is lying upstairs on the big bed, watching CITV forever until we drag him down by his ankles.

Son 1 was incredibly tired today - we all were, but he cramped our style a bit.  The Man wanted to go to The Big Town to get some things for tomorrow’s Business Trip.  We all went, with a vague idea that The Man would be with the boys, we wouldn’t rush and we’d just have a low key family day.  Son 1 found a bike he liked in Halford’s… then asked to go the Early learning Centre, and then got in a strop over us not buying him anything.  We walked back to the car in the hammering rain.  By the time we got to the Big Supermarket, we’d decided only I would do the Big Shop.  The Man drove round to get them to sleep.  Son 1 slept. Son 2 didn’t.

At home Son 1 was keen to go down the street with his skates on.  We dressed him up and off we went.  He can balance on them, he can walk with them.  We didn’t go very far but he had a lot of laughs.  He wanted to knock on our neighbours’ house to show them his rig out.  They were admiring.  Although I think Son 1 was thinking more of Halloween when we Trick or Treated them, and she opened the door wearing orange lipstick in a towering witch’s hat.  Son 2 went down in the cot in minutes tonight.  He’s woken up about three times… but I really do think we’re getting there.

1.  Rahrr

2.  The Dietician

3. The Green chair

I went in the double bed in Son 2 aged 11m’s room in case he had another bad night.  He slept soundly, and so did I.  This morning I was wakened by him stirring. I froze because I thought he might go back to sleep.  Nope. This is Son 2 we’re talking about.  He lay in his cot going “Rahrr” which is his What-Do-You-Say-To-A-Lion noise.  And then patted his open mouth with his open palm, Apache-fashion, which he’s just learned and likes doing.  And then lay there in the dark going: Da-da-da-da-da-da.  It’s the first time I’ve known him wake and not cry instantly.

I had a vague memory that his dietician’s appointment was at the start of September, and a vague memory that the dietician clinic is on a Tuesday. So I rang the Hospital.  Yep.  Appointment at 1.30pm.  A Good Thing we didn’t miss it.  Anyway, she says not to worry that he’s small, he’s just small.  9th centile for weight, 25th for length and 9th for head.     The red book dots show the story of his reflux.  Born on the 50th, on the 25th for eight weeks while he was refluxing and not being sick, and then dropped to 9 and stayed there when the vomiting started.  With a little dip down to the 2nd when he was ill in July.  “He’s had a rough time,” she said. Put butter and oil on his pasta. Give him lots of cheese. ”He’ll catch up.”  Wonder Nanny brought the boys to the Hospital, and I met them there.  It was fantastic to see them in the middle of the day, but hard saying goodbye.  Especially as I’d hoped I’d get out early but ended up trapped in The Office…

Son 1 aged 3y 11m has, since he was barely 2, pushed his little green early learning centre chair across the kitchen floor to stand on when he wants to stand at the worktops. Cooking, stealing food or just general pestering, the little green chair is steered across.  Son 2 did it today, for the first time.  He knew how, and he knew where he was going with it - same place Son 1 goes.   How weird to think that he is sitting there watching us the whole time and everything is going into that little 9th centile head.