1.  Fed And Watered

2.  The Breezes And The Sunshine

3.  Soft, Refreshing Rain

Son 1 aged 5 and I arrived at School. It’s Harvest Festival Day.  His class, all dressed as scarecrows, is singing a song. Son 1 will pop up wearing a straw hat. I said I would try and get there. And was then told the time.  2pm.  No bloody chance.  “Are lots of parents coming?” I asked Mrs Smiley. She smiled, as she always does. “Oh yes. There’ll be a very good turn out.”  Outside the school, I rang Nanna, and Wonder Nanny. They can go. “Have we got to take something?” asked Nanna. “I’ve got strawberries.” Nope. I sent in a bag of groceries earlier in the week. I hunted high and low in the cupboards. I found two tins of Lite Evaporated Milk which were Best Before Apr 2005… and a tinned Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie so old it didn’t have a sellby date. I looked for things I wouldn’t use.  But deducing that someone getting a School food parcel would not feel too grateful for Chestnut Puree and Aubergine Pesto, I put tea, coffee, tuna, baked beans, soup and tinned tomatoes in a bag instead.  

Not the easiest day I’ve had at The Office, mainly because I did 16 hours yesterday and I’m knackered. Halfway through I remembed a snag in the Harvest Festival plan. I’d promised Son 1 an after-school trip to Tesco.  Last night Son 2 aged 2y 1m had done some blackbelt tantrumming because I wasn’t there… and Son 1 had behaved beautifully.  Plus he’s managed to get up for School for more than 6 weeks. I rang Wonder Nanny. Can they take him to Tesco as well if he wants to go.

When I got back home Son 1 was throwing small plastic balls which transform into aliens around. Son 2 was sitting in his highchair eating strawberries and sweets, giggling. ”I wan’ si’ on Mummy’s lap.”  It was late, so we rounded the up for Books And Bath And Bed.  Maybe The Man was making up the behaviour last night. Could this shiny-cheeked cherub with dancing eyes, sitting in the shower, laughing and splashing Mummy, possibly be the roaring banshee who was put to bed without a bath, without teeth cleaning, and without anything?  Teenaged Niece bought the boys new pyjamas. Son 1 was dashing in bright red Lightning McQueen, Son 2 in oversized bright green Buzz Lightyear. Another Good Thing: Son 2 seems to be getting a bit bigger.  If it carries on he may even get into 12- 18m trousers…

1.  Harvesting

2.  Irrigation

3.  Threshing

Nanna’s garden is blue-marbled with slug pellets. Son 2 aged 23m picks up big handfuls and puts them in his mouth, along with the melted-insides of dead snails.  So we can’t use slug pellets in our garden.  We have six sunflowers, getting bigger, The Man’s now so tall that we can only look at the flowerhead from the upstairs window. We have two tubs planted with peas.  We have some organic slug repellent gel. You pour it around the plants and it’s supposed to make barrier. It looks like dying slug trail, which is probably how it works.  We put it round the pea plants when they first sprouted, and then we couldn’t find it any more.  The slugs ate all the peas in one tub. And Son 1 aged 4y 11m, and Son 2 and I caught a snail laying eggs in our other one.  But this morning Son 1 yelled “Mummy, mummy, come and see! We’ve got peas!” We did indeed. Little pea cases.  Son 1 gobbled one, Son 2 gobbled one. We had six altogether, which they ate instantly.  Son 1 found the case of one a bit fibrous and spat it into the ice cream tub in which we’d put three tiny snails we’d caught on the plants. “They can eat it.”  We were so excited we thought we’d plant some more. And then decided to plant a pumpkin for Hallowe’en instead.  Vegetarian depressive Mummy always has pumpkin seeds. We hunted through the cupboards. Mummy had pine kernels, sunflower seeds and sesame seeds. ”Shall we grow a sesame?” I asked Wonder Nanny.

We planned to go for a swim, then come back and make fairy cakes after lunch.  Wonder Nanny’s mobile went. It was a Wednesday Mum, ringing her to arrange to meet with the children, so Son 1 could play with Best Friend. Wonderful Moments For Working Mothers, #149: When Your Friend Rings Your Nanny Because They’ve Both Forgotten You’d Be There.  We changed the plans. We would meet at The Beach Near The Garden.  It was sunny, warm-ish with a gusty wind and some clouds.  Son 2 and I walked down to the water’s edge, filled a bucket with water, walked back, and he emptied it. Many times.  Son 1 was over-excited and horrible.  The new fishing net was broken.  I left Wonder Nanny in charge and went Swimming In The Sea.  I have a new way of getting in. I walk a hundred paces without stopping.  Shoulders down, swim forward and cold, cold, cold.  I felt my rings loosen on my fingers.  The sea was flat, the beach was sandy, the water was turquoise and every now and then the sun broke through and warmed my face.  Son 1 stood on the shoreline, staring out after me.  I went back. Another family arrived to sit with us, Mother, Father and their three children.  Lunch, more play, splashing and digging in the low tide.  The Navy helicoptered by, low and loud. Play stopped, while the children waved. They waved back. ”Mummy, we got a wave!” bounced Son 1.   

Best Friend, Little Brother and Wednesday Mum left. I went for another swim.  The children made sandcastles.  Son 2 was hanging with tiredness when i got back. “Ah wanna bik bik.” The other mother was handing out iced rings.  ”Would you like one, Son 2?” “Es please.” Beautiful manners.  Gets them from his mother.  We packed up. “Son 1, where are your shoes?”  He looked blank. Wonder Nanny hadn’t seen them.  “Did you take them off in the jungle?” In the Garden, where he’d run off playing with Best Friend when we first arrived.  Yes he did.  In  vast mounds of elephant grass, the dried straw had poked his feet through his sandals. So he’d taken them off. I hunted through every bloody clump.  Gone.  There was no fairy cake making when we got home, although Son 2 got an ice pop.

1.  Lies

2.  Damn Lies

3.  Statistics

Last night I worked late and went to bed very late.   Well towards 1am, I tiptoed upstairs, weightless, soundless, I did not breathe.  The Man rolled over, grumbled and switched off the telly.   I took out my contact lenses.  I peered behind me.  Son 1 had teleported in,  lurching round like a drunk. The Man was in the Big Bed, he wanted to lie down, but “Where’s Mummy?” “In the bathroom.”  Son 1 was still bothered by The Man in the Big Bed.  “When you’re not here, if I wake him up when I come to bed, he settles down in your side watching me while I take off my make up and do my teeth, and then I have a little read in bed, and then we both go to sleep.”  The Man harrumphed and  trogged off to the Blue Room.  Yes yes I know that Son 1 will one day be off with She Who Will Never Be Good Enough For Him and I should be Putting My Eggs In The Man’s Basket (this is going badly wrong) but what the hell. It was the way Son 1 just stood patiently at the bedside waiting for his space to become available… 

So this morning I was matchsticks-under-the-eyelids. Another oh God look at the state of the boys, never mind, Wonder Nanny can do it when she gets here, bye, sesh.  I am doing better though on reading to Son 2.  We did our five books.  Pinocchio, for God’s sake. He insisted.  This is Son 1’s library book, the Disney series that everyone has at least 1 of, somewhere.  I should be reading stuff that is Rooted In Reality.  About washing machines and buggies and looking at leaves.  So. Son 2. Gepetto makes this toy, and the only woman in the story, winged, badly drawn, wearing a pillow case,  makes it come alive, and it goes shopping and gets mugged - twice -  and then gets caged, whereupon Gepetto rescues it and they all live happily ever after.  Son 2 couldn’t give a hoot, and wanted it twice. He’s only really looking at the pictures of the nose getting bigger. “Wee wee,” he said, at the end.  I went all the way downstairs to get his potty. He rejected it, sat on Son 1’s old booster seat, and wee-d in the loo. PSB. “Bye bye Mummy,” he said, as I went off to The Office. 

At bedtime, Son 1 gets the book time. We took out 17 from the library, some for Son 2, but most chosen by him. ”Improving your fishing,” has been a bit of a challenge.  I always put at least one book about another country or culture in the pile. ”And the liberal, with a small ‘l’, cries in front of the TV,” sang Billy Bragg when I was Young. ”Coming Home” went in on the strength of a cover drawing of a black woman in a hijab with a small boy. Oh-Good-Islam-Portrayal-Not-Arab-We’ll-Have-It was the quarter second attention it got as I tossed it in.  Hassan is a Somalian refugee.  Son 1 and I have done Somalia, in answer to the “Mummy, are there any pirates now?” question. “There are some very poor people from a very poor country run by bullies and they steal other people’s boats and ships because they Have Nothing.” “What happens to them?” “President Obama (Most Powerful Man In The World.  In answer to: “Who’s that man on your book?”) sent a big ship and told them to stop. Now darling, let’s clear out Son 2’s old toys and take them to Oxfam.”   Hassan’s Uncle is killed by soldiers who burn his house down. Son 1 wanted it twice. ”Is his Uncle dead?” “What happened to the animals?” “Where are his cousins?” “Will it happen here?”  At this point my inner Nanna broke through and I couldn’t resist. “No. Because we are one of the richest countries in the world, and you are such a lucky little boy, and that is why Daddy and I get cross when you don’t realise - ” Son 1 burst into tears. “I’m scared of the soldiers.”  Gepetto was a woodcarver, I said, and one day he made a puppet. 

1.  A Thousand Cuts

2.  Thanks A Thousand

3.  A Thousand Times

Son 2 aged 22m didn’t wake up screaming till 0615.  This is a Good Thing. Lately it’s been unremitting before 0530.  The Man has tried.  I’ve just left him, his screams not quite drowned out by the klaxon of my guilt. I wonder what’s wrong. Wonder Nanny says he’s the same when he wakes up from his daytime naps. I wouldn’t know. He never sleeps in the daytime when he’s with me. Which all leads me to the Pang Pang Pang conclusion that he needs to see me more. Oh Lord.   At least we have Wonder Nanny so he doesn’t have to go to Nursery.  He stood at the door and cried after she left tonight. Pang Pang Pang.    

Cheer Up, Said George.  (Son 2 and I are doing The Smartest Giant In Town at the moment.)  The Man has taken some time off.  This is cause for the firing of cannons and a public holiday.  I have tried pointing out that even Junior Doctors are barred by law from working more than 48 hours a week but for some reason he thinks he’s exempt from the Working Time Directive.   And the boys’ Elegant Aunt has offered us her timeshare week. Hoorah hoorah.

I tried to get home from work a bit early to see a little more of Son 1 aged 4y 10m and Son 2.  Didn’t work.  When I cuddled Son 2, Son 1 went mad with jealousy, and relentlessly tried to bash him off me or force his way between us. When I cuddled Son 1, Son 2 let out intolerable ear-splitting shrieks and I ended up dumping him in his cot.  I left him there for five minutes, and then went back up. He was standing, in his dungarees, cute as a kitten, in the corner of his cot.   A big smile. “Mummeeeee!” “Are you going to stop shrieking?” “Yesssssssssssssss.”  And he made it till bedtime without a single screech.  And then, after I’d laid Son 1 down in his bed and closed their bedroom door, their day ended as it began. “MUMMMMEEEEEEE! MUMMMMEEEEE!!!!”

1.  ”A” Roads

2.  Ring Roads

3.  Country Roads

 I didn’t see the boys today. Left for the Great Big City at 6am, just got back.  Lordy lordy.  So. Being positive. I got out of the house without waking either Son 1 aged 4y 10m or Son 2 aged 22m.  The Great Big City is a place I spent a lot of time BC. But The Office’s er… office…  has moved since those days, and I had no idea where I was going.  Enter The Man’s Sat Nav.  I put up with the cloying female voice telling me directing me along roads I know upside down and back to front. I stopped for coffee after three hours on the road. I switched it back on for directions into The Great Big City.  She had stopped talking. 

I’d put the postcode of the new Office in… and round and round I went.  Baffled, bored and a bit intimidated - don’t box junctions mean the same in Big Cities as they do in The Country? - I stopped and asked a post lady.  ”Just double back on yourself and you can’t miss it,” she said.  Oh yes I could. The Sat Nav kept re-calculating every time I took a turn it didn’t like.  And then, half an hour later, I found it, and trailed in, triumphant.

Six hours later, I set off for the drive back.  Jaysus we really do live miles from the rest of you.  It was a long haul, but at least it didn’t rain - big skies though, with big grey Turner-like clouds billowing up and up into the heavens.  I listened to the radio, and admired the glowing green of the countryside.  A sure sign it’s been p***ing it down for days.  the Parking Fairy gave me a space outside the house. The Man poured me a large glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Wonder Nanny’s notebook says Son 2 wasn’t feeling well today.  Missing his Mummy, I bet.

1.  Roast Beef

2.  Short Sharp Shock

3.  Red Red Wine

One of my mad, over-scheduled days. Son 1 aged 4y 9m, Son 2 aged 21m, Wonder Nanny and I were heading up to the Fun Park… and then we were having six friends round for dinner.  Tra la la.  I went for a run while the boys had breakfast.  We left before 11, stopping off at The Farm Shop to get the meat - a sirloin joint. ( I am an idle vegetarian cook.  Take one slab of good meat, put in oven for one hour plus, bingo, guests grateful and impressed.)  Son 2 was asleep, Son 1 wanted to get out. A peacock was parading its tail, so we let him. 

We got to the Fun Park in time for lunch. Both boys picked, but ate mighty pieces of cake. Soft Play Zone, then Scooby Doo house. Then a horse show in the rain.  The Fun Park train stood waiting in front of us as it finished, with the rain lashing down. We got in it. In the seats behind us was a family - very young dad, three year old ish boy, seven year old ish boy, young mum, very new (13 weeks) baby.  We chatted. Son 1 and Son 2 blagged cake from them.  Then the three year old boy bit the dad and the dad slapped him, hard and loud. The boy wailed.  ”Don’t bite me. Give us a kiss. I love you,” said the dad. ”What did he just do to that boy?” asked Son 1.  It was sudden, it was shocking, it was sickening.  I don’t think it was legal.  And the only thing I did was Stop Talking To Them.

We got back home at about 5, and The Man had manoeuvred a whopping sheet of plywood out of his shed and down into the kitchen-diner.  Son 1 looked at it. “Will there be crackers?” Which tells you when we last did a dinner party. http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2008/12/30/whales-and-snails/  We got the boys to bed “You can come down once.  If you come down once, you get a pirate book tomorrow. If you come down more than once, there will be no book. That’s the deal.”  Couple One arrived while I was down at the shops getting horse radish.  It has been so long since we did dinner that I timed the main course and the starter to be ready at the same time. Ar.  Didn’t matter. Clever menu.  Prawns, then Beef, new potatoes  and salads.  I had sun dried tomatoes and salads.  Couple Two arrived, then Couple Three, bringing an iPod with an Eighties Mix on it. We spent a happy evening guessing the songs.  We had a great time. Apart from me putting two bottles of red wine in the freezer.

1.  Fish Food

2.  Swimming Like Fish

3.  Schools

Son 1 aged 4y 9m can never pass a leaflet stand without helping himself.  He has been studying a favourite for weeks; a flyer for a holiday park near The Happening Town with a mega swimming pool. The forecast today was ropey, so I decided we’d go. We stopped off at Wonder Nanny’s new house to pick up her bikini.  The boys have been, I haven’t.  “Fish,” said Son 2 aged 21m. “Darling we’re not going in the garden, we’re just having a quick look round and then we’re going swimming,” I said. “Fish,” said Son 2. “Not today, Son 2,” said Wonder Nanny. “I’m just showing Mummy the house.”  Son 2 picked up a tub of fish food and headed for the back door.  “Fish.” We went out to look at the fishpond.  There are about 10 small goldfish, and one larger lighter one.  The boys sprinkled fish food.  “Where’s the Mighty One?” said Son 1. “I can’t see it,” said Wonder Nanny. “Fiance must have fed the fish, they’re not hungry, are they?” “That leaf on the bottom at the back looks like a dead frog,” I said. ”Where’s the big one?” said Son 1. “I don’t know,” said Wonder Nanny. “I suppose a cat could have got it.” Pause. “You know that does look like a bit like a frog.” I peered. “Ah.  I think that might be the remnants of the Mighty One.”  No wonder they weren’t hungry.  

I’ve taken this week off thinking it wouldn’t too busy because most schools haven’t broken up.  But the Holiday Park Swimming Pool was elbow-bumpingly busy. The boys loved it - there was a great baby/toddler area and Son 2 loved the little slide… there were bubbles.. there were three huge slides.  Son 1 was only allowed on one, with me, and we had to queue for ages each of the three times we went down.  A gent in front of us had his late father’s face and birth and death dates tattoo-ed on his shoulder blade. The pool was well worth it, but the rest of it was like being whizzed back in time. Vauxhall Holiday Park, Great Yarmouth, 1973. Shamba Holiday Camp, Dorset, even earlier. If Sugar Baby Love had belted out of the speakers I would have suspected a head injury.   I felt strangely comfortable.  “Was that great, or what?” said Son 1, swinging his noodle as we left.     

Best Friend came round when we got back, armed with a sword, a handgun and a pistol. “Sorry,” said his mother. He had his taster session at his new school this afternoon. Pang.  Best Friend lives on the doorstep of the Tiny Outstanding Village School I had my eye on for Son 1.  I didn’t apply in the end, thinking we wouldn’t have a chance of getting him in.  So Son 1’s staying on for Reception at his current place 12 miles away.  It’s a fantastic place.  But they’re so good together. As soon as Best Friend came round, they piled into the dressing up box and emerged as pirates.  They played, utterly absorbed, with Son 1’s huge pirate toy collection till tea, then piled down, giggling, snorting, making farting noises, calling each other Poo Poo Head and having sword fights with the dipping vegetables.  Best Friend ate great piles, Son 1 picked like a supermodel. After tea they went out in the garden with bows and arrows. After a great many threats they got the hang of not firing at Son 2.

1. Lazybones

2.  Young Bones

3.  Old Bones

A lie in till 8am… mainly because I worked so late last night I couldn’t get up. Not even for Son 2 aged 21m’s “Mummeeee!”  “Mummmeee!”s.  A Day Off.  The Man vanished off to Work. Son 2 posted blueberries in the funnel of his Postman Pat steam train.  We plodded around.  Son 1 aged 4y 9m had the Moon Sand out before Wonder Nanny arrived.  Son 2 wanted to play with the Moon Sand (banished, for throwing it,) write with a pen (mainly left handed but still swapping to the right to keep us guessing) watch the Bin Men (”Up me! Up me!”) and play outside.  Son 1 watched Cars.

We took The Boat out. As soon as we got aboard, Son 1 scoffed all his cheese and marmite sandwiches while Son 2 ate hummous and pepper.  Wonder Nanny and I hovered around him all the way so he didn’t hurt himself. We had our first chat and took our eyes off him. He went running to find Son 1, fell over and cut his chin.  We anchored at Two Pirate Cave Bay. The tide was so high the caves were full.  I got in the dinghy with the boys.  Wonder Nanny, in her bikini and belly button stud, dived off The Boat and swam to the shore. The beach was shingle, with sheer cliffs heading 200 yards up, covered in greens and white flowers.  There was boat debris on the highest water marks.   We coaxed Son 1 and Son 2 down from the rocks. “Cave!” said Son 2.  

I swam in the sea, taking forever to get in, but invigorated once I was in and moving. The water was dark green today, with patches of turquoise near the shore.  I swam to The Boat just to prove I could, and then across to a big rock near the entrance to the Two Caves.  I went in one, and then went back for Son 1 and carried him round. He was in Pirate Captain heaven. “Dig for treasure, me hearties!” “Dig till you find it!”  Son 2 cried “Cold! Cold” and we put the tent up to give him a bit of warmth. He ate more.  Wonder Nanny had us all looking for Sea Glass - bits of broken glass polished round and smooth. We found greens and browns and blues.  Son 1 wasn’t that interested, but I could see PIrate Treasure potential in a good collection.    Son 1 found a twisted, dessicated tree root. “A dinosaur bone!” “Yes, it’s just like a dinosaur bone, like a foot, but it’s a tree branch that looks like  a dinosaur bone.” “No, it’s a dinosaur bone, look, it doesn’t break when I smash it.”  A great shoal of shrimp was feeding near the rocks at the water’s edge. I netted 12, and Son 2 sat, fascinated, staring at them in our yellow plastic bucket.  BAck on the boat, we had everything. “Where’s my dinosaur bone?”  The dinghy went back to get it.

1. Excuse Me

2.  And Me

3.  Not Just Me

I give the boys a tub of fruit as soon as they get up, the Childcare With Serenedays principle being that I’ve always funnelled in at least one of their 5-A-Day before 7am.  So, while I was washing grapes and blueberries for Son 2 aged 21m, a little figure was pushing a green ELC chair across the kitchen. He likes to stand on a chair at the worksurfaces so he can see what Mummy is doing.  I like him standing on the chair, because at least I don’t have to carry him around. This morning, I wasn’t fast enough shutting up the dishwasher so he could get in. “Coos Me.  Coos Me,” he said, smacking the chair into my ankles.  He just is the cutest child in the world.

Son 1 aged 4y 9m doesn’t go to Nursery on Tuesday, so a sane start to a beautiful morning. The house is east-facing, so we had bright early sunshine streaming in to every room. “I wonder why Son 2 is waking up so early,” said The Man.  Both boys were lounging around in pyjamas, colouring, as I got ready.   Son 1 is great at colouring, does some amazing designs and spends ages choosing which colours and patterns to use. There are, of course, very many “Oh well done, Son 1, what a beautiful picture, I really like the way you’ve drawn that/colours you used/shapes you’ve made.   This morning, when Son 2, eyes shining,  held up his scraggy, holes gouged in it, scribbly biro-d yellow chick mask from the Environment Day, I realised the poor child has been trying to get the same response from me for ages.  Maybe when I’m less tired I’ll be smarter. 

I got back before Wonder Nanny left, which was a Good Thing. The boys were high as kites. They’d been to Nanna’s, who’d plied them with sweets and chocolate, and then to the playground in Nanna’s Village.  They were dirty and behaving badly, as they’d apparently done all day.  Son 1 tormented Son 2, and for the first time I witnessed Wonder Nanny snapping at him.  Thank God for that.  I have agonised over the quiet, reasoned, loving control she has over them.  Usually, when I come home from work, they are quiet, sedate little angels minding their ps and qs.  And then they go off like fireworks.  Because they were being so awful when I came in, there wasn’t the usual annoying disintegration for my benefit.  Son 2 sat still through his books; Son 1 was still pretty hyped but tolerable.  He gulped his bedtime milk. “Shall we ask the servant to bring us some more?” he asked. “Better not call him that,” I said.

1.  Cold Remedy

2.  Cold Symptoms

3.  Cold Water

Feeling very rough today, so I didn’t go into The Office. I had a pile of work to do at home, and planned to get a kip in the afternoon while Wonder Nanny took the boys out.   Son 2 aged 21m woke, and we did his books session. Son 1 aged 4y 8m joined us. i put the boys in front of the telly a few minutes before Wonder Nanny was due, and went upstairs for a Tea Tree bath. Not enough hot water.  Strange, because we usually only have hot water problems if we’ve had a set of back-to-back showers. 

Wonder Nanny had arranged to go to a playground to see her Nanny friend with the two little boys she looks after. She made a picnic and off the three of them went. For the first time ever, I was glad to see them go. I worked through the morning, and then walked into The Town for a break. Big mistake. I wasn’t up to it and didn’t really  recover. I had lunch and went to bed. I was woken at 3.45pm by a little face beside me: “Hello sweetie, are you all right?”

Wonder Nanny gave the boys their tea and left. And again, they went loopy.  I couldn’t really cope. I tried washing a beaker for Son 2’s bedtime milk. No hot water.  This meant Completely No Hot Water. I rang The Man, who, as this is a Positive Blog, I shall described as Not Very Much Help. i rang a plumber who can’t come till Thursday morning.  I boiled a kettle.  In my 70s childhood our council house had no central heating and no hot water. Boiling a kettle always marked the start of wash time.  Mind you, even then we had an immersion heater.  I have no idea where ours is, and The Man can’t remember.  I washed the boys one at a time in the bathroom sink, Son 2 first.  By the time I came to dry Son 1, I’d had enough.  No hot water, flu-stricken, single mother, and two rowdy, noisy, out-of-control boys.  Son 1 bounced and swirled as I tried to dry him. “Son 1 will you - ” “- Bugger off!” he said, laughing madly, his eyes dancing. He detected my I think I’ll ignore this thought. “Bugger off, bugger off, bugger off!”  “I don’t know where you’ve got that disgusting language,” I said. “Bugger off, bugger off, bugger off,” he said, pointing both fingers at me.  ”Mummy, do you want me to Bugger Off?”  he giggled.  No. But I do want you to shut the f*** up.  I think that thought stayed in my head. I suppose I will find out at bath time tomorrow.