1.   True Love

2.   Little One

3.   A Swell Party

Son 2 aged 23m has a hacking cough. Son 1 aged 4y 11m is sneezing and coughing.  I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.  It’s the end of August, and because The Man has spent the summer re-fitting and painting and sanding we’ve only been out on The Boat twice. The forecast was so-so, and worse for tomorrow.  The Boat it was.  Son 1 and The Man went off to get the dinghy ready. Son 2 ran after them, a sandal in each hand, “and me!” and sobbed when they left without him.  I put him outside in the yard on the astroturf, naked,  with a bowl of warm soapy water, some washing powder jugs and two beach buckets.  I started on the sandwiches.  Son 2 toddled back in carrying the empty bowl.  “More wah wah!”  “Who tipped out the last bowl?” I asked. “Me!”  Off he went.  I carried on.  He came back in twice more for water.  I chopped vegetables. Then he came back in and pawed at his clothes. “Dest.” “You want to get dressed?”  “Yes peez.” And then “Pooo.” He pointed to the yard. There, on the sodden, soap-soaked astroturf, was a damp, squashed poo. 

Son 2 was hard work. Clingy, insistent, tearful.  He also kept falling over.  The Man and Son 1 came back and we went down to the Yacht Club.  Son 1 and Son 2 played races on the lawn. “Ready… Steady… Go!” yelled Son 1 as they pelted across it. Son 2 was still falling over.  “Try ‘Ready, Steady, Lie Down.’” I said.  “Ready, Steady, Sleep!” called Son 1, and they both fell down. In lifejackets. Stuck on their backs like upended tortoises. 

So we took the baby with his fluey cold and balance problems and put him on a motor boat in a heavy swell.  He fell over. In the cabin. Bump on the forehead. He fell over on the deck.  Bump on the forehead.  We had lunch, and then bribed the boys. If they went to sleep they could have a sweet when they woke up. They both slept.  I read the paper, The Man and I drank coffee.  When they woke up we caught crabs. The world-record for Biggest One Yet.  Barely fit in the bucket.  Son 1 was a stroppy, screeching pain all the way back. I did not cope well.  I think that’s Three Down, and The Man in charge.

1.  The Gates Of Dawn

2.  Dulce Domum

3.  Wayfarers All

I am really not well.  Weak as a kitten, hurting head full of snot, racking cough, sore chest, sore throat and ears that crack horribly everytime I swallow. I could prove it was swine flu if I could be bothered to look for our thermometer.   In the meantime I’ll assume it’s just the cold I get every time I take any leave. It’s not helped by a lack of sleep. I went out last night to our book club, and got to bed about midnight. Then I woke at 5am, my head thumping. Son 1 aged 4y 11m arrived.  I tried to get him back to sleep, and at 6am crept downstairs to make a vast pot of coffee - I’m a keen believer in caffeine for colds.  It wasn’t quite dawn, so I took my coffee to sit in the bay window and watch the sun come up over the river.  A shadow flitted in. Son 1.  We put cushions on the window seat, and hauled one of Nanna’s big blankets over ourselves to keep warm.  Camping. Son 1 loved it and snuggled up to me. We watched vans and cars drive by.  We watched the sky lighten.  “I’m bored with camping,” said Son 1 after 15 minutes.

The Man’s sunflower is now the largest, and Son 1 and I have claimed it as Ours. A yellow flower has today started to appear.  Son 1 and Wonder Nanny played pirates. Son 2 aged 23m and I went outside. He wanted to play with Wah Wah, so I put him in his swimsuit, boiled a kettle, squeezed in some washing up liquid and warmed up the rainwater for him.  I went and got myself a garden cushion so I could sit and watch him. “More,” said Son 2, trotting off to bring out all the others, one by one.  As soon as Son 1 saw the bubbles he was out there too.  Adding compost to make a potion.  The parcel for the Scooby party arrived, and Son 1 was almost sick with excitement. Wonder Nanny made minestrone soup.  We had lunch. Son 2 and I went for a sleep. 

We woke up at 3pm, and an old friend was downstairs with Wonder Nanny and Son 1.  Just on Wednesday i was looking back to Breastfeeding Group nearly five years ago, at the July baby, the September baby and the October baby. There was also an August baby, the little girl, just five, playing with Son 1, whom we haven’t seen for nearly a year.  The Man came back from The Boat and we went crabbing.  Son 2 demanded I take him to the riverside beach just as the others hauled in crab 14 to break our record. Another family joined the others, but Son 2 and I walked round to the low tide beach.  It’s covered in broken glass.  “Son 2 just pick up the shells or the stones NOT THE GLASS.”  Son 2 kept picking up the glass. The water’s edge was glass free, so I took him there,  me keeping his reins on, him with his dungarees rolled up. Son 1 joined us, but ran in the sea with his trousers on “Take them OFF! Look, you hold Son 2’s reins and I’ll help you.”  I pulled off his trousers. I turned round. He’d let go Son 2’s reins and Son 2 had strode out into the river, standing hip-high in the water,  looking back at me.   Son 1 danced in the water, naked from the waist down.  His five year old friend gazed longingly after him. “Son 1 come back! It’s not fair on Son 2 or Your Friend!”  I promised him we would come back in our swimming costumes one day and both go in. At bedtime he was so tired he lay in his bed while I was singing to Son 2. When I’d finished Son 2’s night-nights, Son 1 was fast asleep.

1.  Junior Showtime

2.  Long-Standing

3.  Learning To Talk

Days 1 and 2 of The Trade Show.  Son 1 aged 4y 8m and Son 2 aged 20m went with Wonder Nanny yesterday.  They apparently walked round, went on rides, looked at animals (pig and mooing noises from Son 2,) collected stickers, pencils and assorted oddments from stands, had lunch and then went in the Play Tent till I collected them.  Son 2 appeared to have also found a shirt-painting stand.  He was in white linen. I told Wonder Nanny not to worry about the shirt as You Can Get Anything Out Of Linen.  Son 2 was cheerfully testing the theory, with strips and splodges of paint, ice cream and pen all over him.  The children painting in the Play Tent were using washing up bowls to clean their paintbrushes, so there were large bowls of shallow, deeply coloured water perched on kiddies’ chairs.  Son 2 had borrowed a tea cup from a toy box and was using it to scoop out blue water and tip it on the floor in front of him.  Nice.

Son 2 was having a day with Wonder Nanny, and Son 1 was at Nursery today. We got him there on time, which was a Good Thing, and he plopped down, cross-legged, with the other children with nary a glance up at me.  I took a colleague into The Trade Show, and we had a Good Day.  Very busy, great people, saw loads of contacts, walked miles, worked hard, left late. As I was leaving I rang home to tell The Man to start putting the boys to bed without me.  Wonder Nanny answered.  Past her leaving time. ”Isn’t The Man back yet?” “No… I  know he was picking up Son 1, but we’ve not seen them here.”  I rang The Man.  Doing a Big Shop with Son 1. Hadn’t worried about Wonder Nanny and Son 2  because he’d assumed I’d be home.  Oh Dear. 

 Back home, Son 2 hung round my neck, Son 1 screamed and squealed.  “Do you want to go to the Trade Show again tomorrow?” I asked Son 2.  He nodded, made his pig noise, and moo-ed.  He really does understand everything.  His speech bounds onwards: “Up Up Up,” is a new favourite, said mostly with two arms wound round my leg as I try to shake him off so I can get things out the oven. He has recognisable words for bread, toast, butter, cheese, milk, juice, tea, shoes, chair, bath, bubble, bus, book, bear, boat, cat, dog, stop, spot, please, peas, ice cream, chocolate, toes… I must do a proper list one evening. His most used sentence is “And me!”  Which he uses indiscriminately every time I ask Son 1 if he wants something.

1.  Hair Brush

2.  Paint Brush

3.  Tooth Brush

Son 1 aged 4y 6m and Son 2 aged 19m slept in till 7am.  Eight hours’ sleep.  Unheard of.  Amazing.  Carved on stone tablets as A Good Thing.  Son 1 aged 4y 6m needed a wee and I had beaten him to it.  Sitting on the floor, his legs in his little “W” shape, he gazed up at me.  There is not another man alive who would look at me, sitting on the loo, in my pyjamas, no make up, mad professor hair, and say: “You’re so beautiful.”

I left The Office late, again.  Another phone call to Wonder Nanny.  Another “No Worries,” from her.   I got home to a silent house.  They were all outside.  Son 1 naked, painting the shed with water and a big brush.  Son 2 stripped down to his nappy, playing with a plastic toy box full of water.  Son 1 hopped around, whooping, excited.  Son 2 was beside himself at seeing me, and then burst into tears as a full paintbrush-load of cold water was flicked all over him by an out-of-control Son 1. 

Books, bath, bed.  Son 2 was in the bath, Son 1 and I were cleaning his teeth.  Two brushrounds downstairs, two brushrounds upstairs, One For Luck and A Good Old Spit in the sink between each one.  Son 1 has added another part to the ritual.  We press our faces together photo-fashion, look in the mirror and smile.   This evening he looked at our reflections and again, out of the blue said  ”You are beautiful, Mummy.”  I had them both in bed and asleep before 8pm, which considering the time I got back, was another Very Good Thing Indeed.