1.  Lines

2.  Arcs

3.  Dots

Lordy lordy lordy. 3  x 250ml glasses of wine. Scissor Sisters on TV. I have told The Man how special I think he is and he says I can buy him the Scissor Sisters for his brithday.  Younger Sister and Son 2 aged 22m’s Pagan Godfather went to see the Scissor Sisters in 1999. Or something.  They have no children and are so much more fashionable and richer than us. I keep pressing things which make the screen get bigger and smaller. :Like Alice. Only with less punctuation. The Man says there are a lot women Out There who will regret their tattoos.  I wish I had a tattoo.  It’s not Too Late. 

Ahem.  Took Son 1 aged 4y 10m and Son 2 for haircuts. Consecutive, not concurrent. Like prison sentences. Son 2 played with the Noah’s Ark till Son 1’s haircut was finished; then Son 2 played with it till Son 1 was finished.  They both now have a bit of a “Joan Of Arc” look about them. Nanna and The MAn are not pleased with Son 2’s look.  However. In the  hairdresser’s defence. Son 2 never stopped swinging round to look at Things. 

Went to the Discount Store; filled up on conditioner/shampoo/cleanser etc.  Blew up New Pirate Ship Ball Pool.  Took Son2 to bed. He was very interested, till he heard the click of the back door and snaked himself off the bed, down a flight of stairs and outside.  Nanna came. I made tea. Shepherd’s pie, meat and veggie.  Son 2 tried to cling to my leg.  Tea Time. Everyone wolfed their food. The Man and I went out while Nanna babysat. Usually we only have 2. Today, a neighbour dropped by while we were sitting outside The Bar.  We had 3. He left. I went to the bar to talk to the male nursery nurse Son 1 wants as his party leader next month.   He is free, only  he already has a booking which isnt dependent on time.  We want the Afternoon.  He and his girlfriend left.  We sat outside, The Man and I on a bench.  Between us and The River was a three-storey block of flats. On the roof were eight seagulls. The Man and I had a discussion about it. Was there really a Young One on the chimney, far left?  We agreed there were Eight.  We chatted.  We realised several seagulls were flying, loudly, above us and in front of us.  There were none on the roof any more.

1.  Daddy Rings The Bell

2.  Show That All Is Well

3.  Rocking, Rolling, Raging

Man, what a week. It doesn’t feel like I’ve seen Son 1 aged 4y 10m and Son 2 aged 22m. Which is daft, because I had my half day on Tuesday and as usual had Wednesday.  I left early again, this time needing to go to The City for The Office.    Son 2 apparently had a really bad night and kept The Man up throughout.  I didn’t hear anything. This is Indeed A Good Thing.  Apart from they were both fairly fractious by the time I got up.  Son 2 was lovely for our morning reading time though.  Say Hello to The Animals, Full Of Love, The Boy On The Beach, Maisie’s Fire Engine and The Snail And The Whale.  I like to think I do 5 books in the morning with him and 5 books in the evening. So he has 70 books a week.  This will Help His Receptive Language and Ensure He Has A Large And Confident Vocabulary.  In Son 2’s Top 10 words are Burp, Bart (for fart) and Bum Bum, when he bends over and waggles his bottom in the air.   These have so far not featured in any of his children’s books.  They are though heavily over-used by Son 1.  And before you start really hating me, the 5 books is a target.  Many, many days I am just too knackered.

A long old day in The City, and then back again. I stopped at Waitrose.  Like I did on Tuesday.  When I bought a two-pint bottle of organic milk, got it home and found it had a use-by date of the previous day, and a sell-by date of the day before that. Waitrose!  I always thought they were up there with John Lewis and… John Lewis as quality brands. I phoned them up and they grovelled, and told me to come back in and they’d give me a refund. They gave me a refund and a new bottle of milk. Sell by August 7. I checked. 

Younger Sister is down, just till tomorrow. She had Nanna to stay, and brought her back yesterday. So I had a Grand Plan that we could all eat out at Pizza Express.  5 o’clock, I said. And then got stuck, stuck, stuck in the traffic. Friday evening in the school holidays, what was I thinking of? i got there at about 6pm. I could hear a baby crying from outside. Too young to be  Son 2, I thought. As I came up the stairs, I looked into the eyes of a contorted, red, screaming toddler face.  Son 2 in Tantrum Town. The Man was just Iron Maiden-ing him into the high chair.  There wasn’t much I could do with him either.  It was good to get out, and good to see Younger Sister, who goes back tomorrow.  Son 2’s second mega-strop this week. I hope it’s not because I’ve not been around.

1.  Pets

2.  Peace

3.  Perfection

Son 2 aged 21 month’s head bump looked pretty grim this morning, and I am glad I bothered to heave him into Casualty last night. He seemed fine, but tired.  We went to a Garden Centre.  Younger Sister bought the boys sunflower seed kits, and we have to pot the seedlings on, so we were looking for pots. The Garden Centre  has tropical fish, garden fish, gerbils, hamsters, chinchillas, parrots, canaries and rabbits.  Son 1 aged 4y 8m has decided that he wants a fish for his birthday. He is very excited by the idea. I have said it will help him get ready for having a dog, which he is not allowed till he is 6.  At the Garden Centre, we met the mother of a friend from Nursery.  Who has 5 dogs.  I quickly established that Nursery Friend has an older sister.     

The boys fell asleep in the car on the way back, the The Man and I drove to a beach and had coffees from a cafe. It really is such a rare treat to get them both asleep together in the daytime.  I put some litter in a bin; they woke up. We bought them chips for lunch. Unfortunately it wasn’t lunchtime, it was nearly 3pm when Nanna was coming round. We got back to see her, A Grand Old Age, sitting on the windowsill in the rain waiting for us.  Er… see http://mumsnet.com/blogs/serenedays/2009/02/18/the-cuteness-of-piglets/  We made special fried rice for tea. I had a new Le Crueset serving dish for my birthday.  I put the rice in the dish on the centre of the table, place mats laid all round, serving spoons and plates in position.  Son 2 bruised down. “Tea,” he demanded. “Tea. Tea. Tea.” He climbed up on the chair, stood on it, reached over, served himself a great plateful and ate it with his fists.  He’d eaten half a plate before Son 1 came down.  I sat in the highchair and had mine.

Nanna babysat while The Man and I went down the road to the Hotel With The River View. Thank heaven for smokers, and improved outside facilities.  The Hotel WTRV now has a terrace. Plastic plants, and seagulls eating fag butts, but it was sunny, the water was flat and the longest day approaches.  We had a great time.

1.  Travelling Hopefully

2.  Going Underground

3.  The Wild

Court finished at lunchtime on Friday (memo to self. Make sure boys go into the Law. These people are not over-working.) so I packed all afternoon.  Set off at 6 and drove at a fair crack.  We are so rural it takes more than four hours at 70mph to reach the M25.  Younger Sister and Godfather 2 stayed up.  I tried to put Son 1 aged 4y 8m and Son 2 aged 20m to bed when we got there but they outvoted me. ”Cat,” said Son 2, repeatedly, whirling round in circles to make himself drunk like he does when he’s excited. ”You see these teddy bears which are cats’ toys,” said Son 1. “I expect they’re for us now.”   They stayed up till midnight.   

On Saturday we went with Younger Sister to their local wildlife park.  We fed goats and chinchillas.  Son 1 gave a lamb a bottle of milk. Hot hot hot. On Sunday Son 1, Son 2 and I got on the train, went into London, crossed it on the Tube (hot hot hot) and met The Man, fresh off the Gatwick Express at Victoria.  Then we went to Kensington Gardens and watched Peter Pan.  Son 1 of course thought it was fantastic. Son 2 sat through the whole two-and-a-half hours with barely a fidget. The child who is hated by a planeload of holidaymakers. “Isn’t he good,” said the lady in front. “Mine could never have been that good at that age.”  We think the fairies swapped him.  His favourite characters were Nanna “Woof woof,” and the Crocodile  ”Snap snap.” When Wendy was carried off from Marooners’ Rock on a kite tail he let out a show-stopping baby chortle.  “It’s not funny,” hissed Son 1.  I do love this story but I am with Son 2 on that bit.  On the way out I said “Son 1 please stay with us. You know what will happen if you get lost in Kensington Gardens.”  “Mummy it’s not real life,” he said, scornfully.  I saw ya, you little beggar, staring transfixed and whispering ”I believe in fairies” to bring back Tinkerbell.

We had planned to do London Zoo on the Monday, but it was too dang hot to brave on a working day, and there is a massive zoo about 10 miles from Younger Sister’s, so we spent the day there.  We did the Big Five… hippos, lions, giraffes, elephants and cheetahs. Went on a steam train, ate ice creams… and got hot hot hot.   At Younger Sister’s we took family photos, and the children again stayed up for dinner.  On Tuesday we drove to see Aged Aunt and Eldest Brother. Aged Aunt looked brilliantly well, their garden was great, the boys were Perfect Children.  And then we drove back. On the hottest day of the year. Fortunately we had wiped Son 1 and Son 2 out and they slept for most of the Very Long Indeed trip.

1.  Up

2.  Tummy Ache

3.  Mamma Mia

5am and the screams of a child in mortal peril split the night.  “I SPILLED MY DRINK!!!!! MUMMEEE SOB SOB SOB MUMMMMEEEE SOB SOB SOB.”  I sprint downstairs.  There is an outside chance the situation can be saved, but once Son 2 aged 15m is awake, we are all Awake.  And Up.   The bed isn’t wet.  Son 1 aged 4y 3m isn’t wet.  “What happened?” I whisper in the pitch black.  “My drink slid-ed out of my hand.”  “Where’s your cup?”  “On the floor.”  “Well I’ll leave it till we get up.”  I didn’t want the light on.  That would reveal the Christmas stocking.  And we would be Up.  I snugged down on the bed with Son 1.  Every time I thought his breathing was deepening, he asked “Can I get up yet?”  “No, it’s too early.” “Has Santa been?”  “I don’t know, it’s too early.”  “I made myself wake up early to open my presents.”    Snooze.  I could smell the spilt milk.  “Can I get up yet?”  “No.”  “I want to open my presents so much my tummy hurts.”  It was decades ago, but I can still remember what it feels like to want to open your presents so much your tummy hurts.  It was 0545.  I switched on the light.  Son 1 dived into his stocking.  I went to clear up the milk.  There wasn’t any.  His cup was still on top of his bed where it always is.  It was only a dream.

A present fest.  The boys opened their stockings and then  when Granny and Granddad came at about 0730 we started on the big stuff.  Son 1 ripped through his so quickly he was soon in mourning because everyone except him had some left.  Son 2 tore a few bits of paper off and then continued his remorseless and relentless pursuit of remote controls, mobile phones and electronic gadgetry.  He only came alive once every bit of wrapping paper had been stuffed into a great big carrier, whereupon he dealt with it in the traditional baby manner.  I rang Younger Sister at 11am.  She has Godfather, Nanna, Elder Sister, Godfather’s Mother, and Godfather’s Brother for Christmas lunch.  I told her about Son 1 and the early start.  “I want to open my presents so much my tummy hurts,” she said.  “But we’re still waiting for people to get up.”  We had  a turkey crisis.  The Man had put a fridge up in his Shed to house the overspill food.  He cranked up the temperature and put the turkey in it.  Then last night when he took it out he’d frozen it.  We had the heating on all night to thaw it, and this morning it was just very chilly indeed.  So it took forever to cook.  But we got there, and, at the time of writing, our meat-eating company of two pensioners, two under-fives and a Bloke is all still alive.  Son 1 and Son 2 were in pieces late afternoon, and we just plopped them in the bath.  In bed, Son 1 said “I love Christmas.”  “So do I.”  “I love you Mummy.”  “Oh that’s a kind thing to say. I love you too.”  “You’re so lovely,” and he snugged into my arms.    

Quarter to seven and they were both in bed, asleep.  Granny and Granddad had gone back to their hotel.  Nothing on telly.  “What about Mamma Mia?” I suggested, having bought it at the end of November, and not having managed to get near it since.  “You watch it, I’ll do this computer,” said The Man, who needed to wrestle with a laptop.  So, a couple of glasses of Cava, The Man till half way through “It is a bit of a chick flick, isn’t it?” “Honestly, it’s a war film. They’ll start shooting at each other any minute.”  He went to bed. Not As Good As The Show. Which I think I saw twice.  Can’t remember.  I liked:  Meryl, because she must be nearly 60, and that means I can still be Youthful and Fun and Fashionable when the boys are 20.  The songs, because I was there, queueing round the block to see Abba The Movie in 1978 when the first showing was full.  Pierce Brosnan singing.  It just made me laugh.  I think The Man looks like Pierce Brosnan.

This has got to be one of the longest posts I’ve done, but it’s Christmas.  I spared a couple of thoughts for the people who aren’t with their children on Christmas Day - a hell I only recently understood. During the film I thought about the day Son 1 and Son 2 tell me they’re not coming home for Christmas for the first time. And then Son 1, barefoot in his Ben 10 pyjamas, bounding down the stairs to let Granny and Granddad in “Quick quick come in, it’s time to open the presents.”

1.  Just before the dawn

2.  Sunday morning party

3.  Lunch at Nanna’s

We did better this morning.  Both boys in their own beds at 0615, when Son 2 aged 1 called, and Son 1 aged 3y 11m up appeared instantly as soon as he heard us next door.  It’s the light of course.  We spent the summer with a tatty old blanket wedged into the top of the blind in Son 2’s room, asking ourselves, baffled, why he was waking at 5am.  And now it’s not dawn till 0630, guess what.  Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.     

Slightly more sedate getting out the house today.  We had a party, then over to Nanna’s for lunch.  It made a huge difference not having to pack a picnic, although I did put in milk, fromage frais, water, a jar and raisins for Son 2.  I have had now had the picnic bag out five days in a row, which has, oddly, pleased me.  I like to feel we’ve been gadding  about instead of dusting and straightening ornaments.  (And lordy lordy does it show.)  The party was great.  Son 1 charged around, chivvying, running, calling… playing with four or five of the friends from his Old Nursery.  Son 2 played on the slide, played with the swing ball, played in the sand pit, played with the bubbles, gazed at the balloons, balanced and wobbled on his feet - to admiring applause from the other mums, and had a blast.  Son 1 wore his Captain Hook outfit for face painting, with me thinking he would emerge with an eyepatch and a beard.  No.  A blue face with a black mask.   The Blue Power Ranger, apparently.  Maybe this is the week we move on from pirates.  

Then over to Nanna’s.  Very late.  Younger Sister had started warming up the food to start without us.  Son 1 said he wasn’t hungry.  Son 2 had eaten half a jar, strawberries, banana and various other nibbles.  So it was just the three of us.  “That’s everything except the sausages,” said Younger Sister.  “Sausages?” said Son 1. “Are they veggie sausages?”  “No,” said Nanna.  “They’re for you and me.”  Son 1 pulled up a chair.  Then Son 2 decided he wanted more lunch too, and ate the rest of his jar.    The two of them trashed Nanna’s lounge.  Son 1 got blue face paint on the front of  her sofa, Son 2 smeared vegetable noodles on the back.  Son 1 tried on all her glasses.  Son 2 tried biting the bulbs and the birdfood.  Son 1 went in the garden, Son 2 went up the stairs.  Son 1 threw the loo roll in the bath. Back home they had dips for tea.  Son 1 said “This pepper is really sweet, thank you mummy.” Son 2 got hummous everywhere, but enjoyed it.  I tried rinsing blue face paint out of Captain Hook’s lace and collar. 

1. Nightime Action

2. Morning Action

3. Afternoon Action

4. Evening Action

A truly awful night.  The Man was leaving at 3am for his Business Trip flight.   Son 2 aged 1 woke up when we tried to go to bed and then nothing, but nothing would make him settle.  The Man left.  And the three of us slept till 0745, which is very late for us.  I didn’t rush getting up, because we had nothing on for today, and I thought we should have a quiet one.  Then Younger Sister rang from The Hospital.  Nanna was in and she had to ring at 12 to see how she was.  She was coming over.

We went down to The Festival again.  Son 1 aged 3y 11m in his Captain Hook outfit again.  It’s a long old walk, so we had Son 2 aged 1 in The Big Pram, sleeping it off, and Son 1 in the buggy with his hook and his sword.  We saw some friends, with their 2 year old in the buggy, also dressed as a pirate.   They ran round together.  The friends had to go. We walked up and down looking at the attractions, Son 1 and I queued for one for just a few minutes, got on and then had a much better time than yesterday.  Son 2 screamed.  Younger Sister, performing valiantly, offered him cocktail sausage, sandwich and breadstick.  He went for apple.  When Son 1 and I got off he ate nearly an entire banana in a few seconds.  Many, many people asked to take Son 1’s photo.  Younger Sister rang The Hospital.  She needed to get Nanna at 2pm.  So we needed to leave.  The weather was truly awful and we (the grown ups) got very wet.  The boys were in their buggy bubbles and were fine.

When we got back Son 1 played with the new toy he’d blagged off Younger Sister.  I hung out the washing while Son 2 played in the kitchen.  I heard him doing baby singing.  I wonder if he’s got the Nursery Rhyme finger puppets, I thought, and started singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” from the hall.  When I went back in to the kitchen, Son 2 was playing with the Nursery Rhyme puppets.  Sweetest Boy.  And then Son 1 materialised.  He’d heard Mummy singing and had deduced that Son 2 was getting Mummy Time.  And was downstairs in a heartbeat to claim his.  Son 2 has been balancing on two feet a lot today, and then plopping down on his bottom with a proud grin.  Showing two new teeth which have just cut through.  I must, I must, give him the benefit of the doubt at night-time.

Nanna’s angiogram was fine.   Son 1 made it onto the regional telly news.  I’d invited our friends to the house to watch the Festival fireworks.  They rang to say they couldn’t come, as he was feeling ill.  Son 1 cried and cried.  We decided that however tired he was, I would wake him in time for the fireworks.  At 9pm, while I was washing up and drinking yesterday’s champagne, the friends texted. Feeling better.  Coming now.  I woke Son 1 but he never really came round.  Wouldn’t watch the fireworks.  Which were lovely.  We finished the champagne. 

1. One Year

2. The Event

3. Birthday Tea

Son 2’s first birthday.  The year has whizzed by.  The first three or four months in an up-all-hours washine-machine-non-stop blur of reflux… then two months of preparing to go back to The Office… then six months back at work.  Son 2 is a delight; determined, opinionated, joyful, adoring, and independent.  Almost mobile - he was tanking up and down the kitchen on the pushalong trolley today, solving all his falling-down problems and getting up again.   We gave him a little wooden music centre with an inbuilt drum, chimes, xylophone and other rattles, cymbals, scrapers and bells.  Son 1 aged 3 y 11m gave him a plastic ambulance.  Two books (from last night,) a crocodile castanet and a drum with clacky beads on it, and a little woooden tool kit. Son 1 could not help unwrapping the presents.  Wonder Nanny gave him a little remote control car - in the hope that his very own remote control might stop him from pinching ours all the time.

We went down to the Festival again.  Again, with Son 1 in his Captain Hook outfit.  We queued for 45 minutes for one of the attractions, and then were supposed to wait even more while they let a school party on.  I complained, and we were allowed on with the school party.  I had to bribe him to smile nicely for a picture.  Yes I know that’s the road to early death. The wind again was wild, which made everything cold and difficult.  Son 1 got quite into it, and then ran up and down the tarmac jumping in and out of puddles.  We gave Son 2 his lunch, and pushed the boys back, stopping off for balloons on the way back.

We had a birthday tea, the Wednesday friends, Nanna, Younger Sister,  Son 2’s Godmother and the Godmother’s son.  At 20 past 3 I remembered I hadn’t picked up the cake.  It was very good, little building blocks with the letters of Son 2’s name on it, icing, ribbons, writing.  Son 1 couldn’t keep his hands off it.  We had the candle moved and a little fingerprint scoop.  The Friends turned up on the dot of 4 o’clock, when Son 2 and I had barely finished making the Get Well Soon card for Nanna who’s got an angiogram tomorrow.  Which meant the carrots weren’t washed.  Which meant the only vegetable matter served was red pepper and grapes.  Son 2 had: an octopus bath toy; some Peter Rabbit books.  A singing robin.  A squirty bus. Some wooden diggers.  Six Fisher Price building blocks.  Some Nursery Rhyme finger puppets.   The Little Friends trashed the house and toys; the grown ups chatted, and occasionally wondered who was upstairs In Goal.  Champagne was drunk. Happy Birthday was sung.   The Cake was devoured.  Six building blocks, six small boys.  I put the one with Son 2’s initial and “1″  on his highchair tray and he had reduced it to its atomic components by the time I’d finished giving the other five out.  We lost the brother of the child we lost yesterday.  Only this time he’d shut himself in the loo and was just taking a very long time indeed to do his stuff.  Fathers arrived, had beer, ate cake.  It wasn’t a party of course, because there is a joint party a week on Saturday.  But it was an event.  Because Mummy wanted an event.

1.  The Darkest Hour

2.  The New nursery

3.   A Lovely Day

Son 2 aged 9m started screaming at 0230 - half an hour before The Man had to get up to leave for the airport.  I went down to offer him the solace of his mother in his hour of need.  And an hour later put him back in his cot and went downstairs to make a cup of tea.  He screams and writhes if I’m not there.  He screams and writhes if I am there.  I saw on some website that “high needs” (= 2008 terminology for babies who get very very cross) infants can end up stimulated by the presence of their mothers at night. That’s very Son 2.  I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK TO SLEEP I WANT TO GET UP NOW WHERE ARE THE TOYS WHERE IS SON 1 COME ON EVERYBODY.   

At last Son 1 aged 3 and a half could load his 2 Bookstart bags full of toys, his Thomas the Tank Engine pull along suitcase full of toys, and his pirate box full of toys into the car for the taster day at the posh, inconvenient nursery.  We went with Wonder Nanny and Son 2.  Random play with anything to start off with… Son 1 went outside and played with sharks and whales and dolphins in a sand table filled with water, then a farm indoors, then an indoor sand pit, then a dolls house.  We then went up to their little canteen for lunch - they had three or four choices of main meals and he wanted everything.  He had Shepherd’s Pie and peas and rice and then pasta off my plate. Wonder Nanny started showing him how to use a knife and fork to eat the Shepherd’s Pie.  Ah. I’m supposed to move him off his spoon then now am I?  After lunch Wonder Nanny took Son 2 to try to get him to sleep, and Son 1 had more play… We ran around outside: “Mummy there are so many wonderful things to play with,” went back in and played with dinosaurs, played on a xylophone and read some books.  From what the other mums were doing, I think I was supposed to stand on the side and let him play with the other children.  Next time I will wear my “Working mother who feels she never has time to play with her child” tee shirt.  And then we went for a swim in their swimming pool, which Son 1 loved.  He just didn’t want to get out.  On the way back “Did you like the new nursery darling?” “Yes.”  “They had lovely toys, didn’t they?” “Yes.”  “Did you like the other children?” “No.”  “Do you think you’ll be friends with them in September?” “Yes.”

And then because that wasn’t enough for one day, we went over to Mum’s for dinner.  Wonder Nanny gave the boys some tea, I gave Son 2 a quick feed, piled them in the car and drove over. Younger Sister, Godfather 2 and Mother had visited a Garden, then Godfather 2 was cooking.  Son 1 had sausage and mash, and ate the mash and wanted seconds, and made pretty short work of the sausage as well.  Son 2 was just too tired, but enjoyed playing with Mum’s birthday balloon.  Son 1 chatted, ran in and out of the garden, did a new puzzle Mum bought him and played with the zoo I took over for Son 2.   On the way back Son 1 said “This has been a lovely day, hasn’t it Mummy?”          

1. The Museum

2. Boys stuff

3. Out for Dinner

As of 7am Son 2 aged 9 months had 5 and a half hours sleep in 24 hours.  He screamed last night from 2330 till nearly 3am and then woke up at half past five. We are all dropping.  The Man took Son 1 aged 3 and a half off to work with him this morning because Mummy was getting grumpy - he was only supposed to be going in for an hour because of the Business Trip.  And I got everything ready to take Son 2 out.  We went to The Museum and met up with some friends. The Man dropped Son 1 off - couldn’t stay, too busy.  The boys had a good play, Son 2 joined in and seemed to enjoy himself, and my friend and I agreed that although this is hard it will get better.

Son 2 finally dozed off in the pram as we walked back from The Museum. Son 1 and I went into the shoe shop to get his feet measured.  I think the assistants just look inside the children’s shoes when they’re taken off and add a half size to last time’s measurement.  Son 1 is now Size 9, and luckily there were some size 9 shoes in the sale.  He clutched them to his chest as I tried him in some sandals.  “I want these ones.”  Because they have flashing heels.     He has also been running a stick along railings and shop security grids… he dried his hands under a lower-than-normal dryer in a loo and then kept sticking his head underneath to make it come on and mess his hair up.  When did my baby become such a Boy?

It’ll soon be Mother’s birthday, and  I managed to get a present and a couple of cards, which I think is a Positive Achievement.  I tried to get two photos sorted for presents - one for Mum and one for Son 2’s Godmother… but the instant photo machine in the shop couldn’t do what I wanted so I’ll pick up the prints tomorrow.   Younger Sister and Godfather 2 are staying with Mum, so we all out for an early meal to celebrate.  Pizza.  We didn’t really get away with it because Son 2 was so tired, hot and ill.  He’s usually up for going out for meals and coffees, he likes trying food, throwing food, squodging food and watching people.  Tonight though he just grizzled and groaned, his nose runny, his cheeks red, his eyes watery and his voice VERY LOUD INDEED.      But Son 1 behaved beautifully, and it is always good to see Younger Sister and Godfather 2.