1.  Daring To Kiss

2.  Spring Animals

3.  Dinner With A Friend

I spent the night with Son 1 aged 4y 4m.  He’s still hot and bothered. I got up just before 5am, and decided I Do Not Drink Coffee till 6am.  I cracked at 0520.  Did some admin/paperwork.  The Man got up.  Off on a Business Trip.  Very pleased to see me Downstairs.  He’d thought, as I wasn’t with Son 1, that I must be behind closed doors with Son 2 aged 17m.  The Man dares not go into The Lightest Sleeper In The World’s bedroom, and thought it would be bad luck to leave without kissing goodbye.  After all these years I think that counts as a Good Thing.

A text from a Wednesday Mum.  Little Three Year Old Friend fell off the new bunk bed ladder last night and has broken his arm. Overnight in The Hospital, in theatre this morning.  I rang.  Tib and fib.  Carried off in an ambulance.  Five weeks in plaster ahead.   We went off to the Bird Park.  It was indescribably busy.  Every table packed, buggies everywhere, people standing round the edges.  The Other Wednesday Mum went for coffees while Son 2 and I played in the toddler area.  A table became free right next to it.  I stepped over and plonk.  Camp struck, Good Thing bagged.  Son 1 played, but as his calpol wore off his mood crashed.  We went outside. Down to the Farm.  The goats weren’t hungry - half term, they ‘d eaten hundreds of bags of pellets.  they just wanted grass.  There was a great fat black pig with ten gorgeous tiny piglets.  As a vegetarian, I can enjoy the cuteness of piglets guilt-free.  The quails had chicks.  The Big Fat Hens had laid eggs in the hen houses.  We went up to the Penguin Pond.  Son 1 climbed up on the wall and sat, in a “W,” which meant he takes up three times as much room as a child sitting cross-legged.   About sixty children were crammed round the wall.  Buckets of fish arrived with two keepers.  “We need about 12 volunteers!”  Every had shot up.  Son 1 has learned from previous disappointments, and is now much better at getting picked.  He was the best penguin-feeder by far.  Coat off, shoes off, dive into bucket.  Fling Those Fish.

Only. We’d forgotten Nanna was coming at 4pm.  I tried ringing, and off we sped.   Her car was parked near the house, no sign of her.  My mobile went.  She was waiting with our neighbours.  We drove down to The Square and went into Pizza Express for tea.  The boys were worn out and loudly fractious.  And then in came Son 1’s nearly six-year-old friend with his Mother, just back from the panto.  They sat on the other side of the restaurant, and Son 1 spent the entire meal with them.  I sent over a glass of Pinot Grigio as a babysitting fee.   So. Rude to Nanna, but he wate nearly every scrap of pizza, and Nanna and I got our food. Son 2 went for a walk round the restaurant with Nanna, fell over, hit his nose and split his lip open again.

After a long, late, exhausting bedtime, I rang 3 year old’s father at home, and then his mum in the hospital. They were both within 1m of him when it happened.  Second rung from the bottom of the ladder, foot slipped in, child fell and they heard the “snap.”  He has two greensticks and one proper fracture.  He was X-Ray Of The Day.  He’s on calpol.  He seems fine.   In the next bed is a little girl still recovering from the car crash in which her brother died.  It’s really only a scratch on Son 2’s lip.

1.  Food

2.  Heart

3.  Laughter

We went for lunch with Brother and Nanna.   Because we got up late, we didn’t get Son 2 aged 15m down for a sleep.  Pizza again, because it worked so well with Granny and Granddad.  Both boys were thoroughly up.  Worn out, hungry and flying.  The restaurant was packed with families, but only one baby was making shrill screeches, and only one child was lying on the floor pushing his brother’s highchair away from the table.   A colleague from The Office arrived with spouse and two small children and sat on a table nearby.  Ah.  Now I couldn’t make shrill screeches at the boys.  The food arrived and they calmed down.

Nanna is breathless, and has been investigated for about three years.  The Lung Expert said it might be angina, and the Heart Expert said it might be asthma.  Nanna has had tests, wires, ops, and everything has come back clear.  She stayed with The Family for Christmas and returned to a letter from her GP.   She has a Heart Thing.  Hereditary.  Her children should go for scans.  The good news is Nanna is a Grand Old Age.  The bad news is I googled the Heart Thing.  It can cause teenagers to drop dead.  I decided I’d ring the Doctor.   He’ll book me in, but I need an ECG and an X-ray.  Appointments today.  The NHS is a Good Thing.  I sat in the waiting room, making the most of the chance to catch up on November’s Country Life.  Storage Solutions.  Apparently I should have only Well Chosen And Beautiful Essentials on surfaces and visible shelves.  It didn’t tell me how to fit the WCBEs on the surfaces and visible shelves when every inch is already covered in clutter. 

I made the Big Bed while The Man bathed the boys.   I could hear Son 2 laughing his little head off… deep, loud chortles from his soul.  Son 1 was also in uncontrolled fits.  There were soft barks back from The Man, and louder and louder Little Boy Laughter.  It was such a lovely sound that I went down to look.  They were splashing him; he was soaked, Son 2 was ringleading and wouldn’t stop… Son 1 ha-ha-ha-d. I went back up.  The Man got cross.  The children laughed louder.  The Man had enough and started snapping at them.  They loved that, and splashed-and-laughed-and-splashed-and-laughed.  The Man got them out.  They came upstairs and lay under the quilt while The Man shook it.  Son 2 sobbed, bereft, when I took him away to bed. It took me 45 minutes and both eardrums to get him to sleep.