Vanished

1.  Lost

2.  Left

3.  Legerdemain

I can do this, I thought, swigging coffee at 6am as I emptied the dishwasher and put washing away. Son 1 aged 5 woke up at about 0630. I put him in front of CBeebies while I had a shower. Son 2 aged 2 cried. I did his nappy, dressed him, dressed Son 1, did my hair and make up and got them down for breakfast. Eaten. No spills. Tonicked.  Hair and teeth brushed.   Out of the house on time, a Good Morning to the Man from the Paper Shop with his fluorescent satchel, and a wave to the recycling men as we passed them at the bottom of The Terrace.  We drove to School singing Doll On A Music Box from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Son 2’s current favourite. We had enough time to park up the Muddy Path. We got out of the car. “Son 1, where’s your school bag?” I checked the seats, the footwells and the boot.  With a slowly dawning dread, I realised I’d put the school bag on the road behind the car while I seatbelted the children in.  Not the end of the world, but next to it was the Nappy Bag. In the Nappy Bag was my card wallet – bank cards, credit cards, loyalty cards, library cards – phone and purse.  And not even on the pavement… on the road. Six or seven cars down from The House. With the recycling men heading on up towards them only minutes away.

The School let me use their phone. The only number I knew was The Man’s. “What do you expect me to do… I’m in France!” Ring the neighbours, I suggested. He has a new phone and his Simcard isn’t working yet.  I drove back. What’s the worst that can happen, I thought.  I will have to cancel a few credit cards and borrow money from Nanna till new ones arrive.   I can get a new phone. It’s Not The End Of The World.  Son 2 fell asleep on the trip back. I double-parked outside The House and sprang from the car. On the doorstep was the organic veg box. With the school bag and nappy bag, contents intact, on top. 

Son 2 and I had a low-key day. We visited one Wednesday Mum at home, and then went round the other’s for lunch.  Afterwards, I drove into The Town, went to the Joke Shop and bought Son 1 a 5+ magic kit and a 99p magic wand.  I put it in his schoolbag and gave it to him when we picked him up. “Where’s my magic wand?” In the car, I said. “Does it have powers?” he asked on the way back. “It’s a toy wand,” I said. “See how you get on with it.”  Back home, we found the magic wand makes bits of magic tricks disappear. “Don’t open the bag with the tricks in until I’ve got Son 2 to bed. You’ll lose the pieces.” Well by the time I’d left Son 2 we were down a rubber pencil and two of our Find-The-Lady white balls.  The balls re-appeared. Son 1 can just about do a swords-through-the-coin trick, and he LOVES the magic paddle.   “Who was the super-good person who helped us with the bags, Mummy?” he asked.   I have considered the suspects.  The neighbours knew nothing. The recycling men – wouldn’t have stopped to look at the bags.  The organic veg man – I didn’t see his van. Step forward…  someone who often sees us leaving for School, who saw us pull away, and who Knows Where We Live.  I think our Secret Hero is the Paper Shop Man.

Perfect Parenting

1.  Good Food

2.  Good News

3.  Good Thing

Lunch With Nanna.  She’d invited us out. Son 1 aged 4y 9m picked Pizza Express. We went along with the idea. Son 1 ate no breakfast or tea on Friday.. and nothing but cake, crisps, chocolate crispies, chews, lollies and biscuits yesterday.  We figured he would probably go for their cheese and tomato pizza and dough balls. Not exactly Annabel Karmel-compliant, but at least a nod to the three major food groups. On the way to The Square we stopped off to get sandals for Son 2 aged 21m.   ”Choos.” He was delighted. He showed them to Nanna as soon as he saw her. Poor Son 1. Clarks could do nothing with his 11E slender feet.   The boys were ok during lunch. Son 1 cleared his plate, but didn’t quite stay sitting at the table, and ate quite a bit of his garlic butter with his fingers. Son 2 climbed out of his highchair (broken strap) three-quarters of the way through.  But considering what they’re capable of, a success. On the way back we saw Glamorous 22 year old Graduate. “Choos,” said Son 2.

And then at 1545 I wheeled them out again to go the Family Service at The Church. Son 1, who likes the crafts,  had decided he wanted to go.   Today we made  bricks and building and drawing houses.  A few more people there than previously.  Son 2 made a brick and a house. Son 1 coloured an orange house with a pink roof.  He then refused to go to the front of the church for the service because he wanted to make a house too. So Son 2 and I did The Wise Man Built His House Upon The Rock. And then into the Church Hall for tea.  “I made vegetarian cottage pie last time and you didn’t come,” said the chef, doling out sausage and mash and beans for the boys. Sorry, I said.  Son 1, after his lunchtime triumph, ate mash and had seconds of beans. I don’t think the sausages met his standards.    Another mother there had worked with The Man 15 years ago. 15 years ago The Man used his pet name for me in all his conversations.  She still thinks that’s my name, and that’s what she calls me. I wonder when he stopped using it. 

When the boys were in bed I went for a run.  8pm and a warm, close evening with great light.  I’ve never noticed the amount of roses in front gardens along The Terrace before. I’m still running-and-walking while I get back into it, but as usual, I’m very glad I went.  There and back I was dive-bombed by a seagull, clearly protecting a nest or fledgings. And on the final straight, the seagulls were clacking at top volume near The Hotel With The River View.  A small grey chick was perched unsteadily on the sloping slate roof.  I ran on.  A cat sat outside a house on The Terrace, staring at the gulls.  Today’s positive lesson? At least when I make a mistake parenting, no-one tries to eat the children.

This Is The Life

1.  Girl 1

2.  Girl 2

3.  Dancing With The Tide

4.  Girls 3

I am still riddled with cold and over-tired.  Today I should have stayed in and let Wonder Nanny look after Son 1 aged 4y 6m and Son 2 aged 18m.  But the forecast was good.  If it rains, I can stay in. And if it doesn’t, I have to go out. The boys fell asleep on the way to the Shingly Beach. Wonder Nanny and I drove around Remote Touristy Village, looking for an Out-of-Season takeaway cappacino.  We found one. We parked. The boys woke up.  We bought our coffees, and walked with the boys to a playground we’d spotted on our drive-through. Son 2 loved the seesaw. Son 1 loved the roundabout.  He played with A Girl.  Quick, where did I put those flags and fireworks. 

Lunch was a dream.  The pub had a little play area with toys for children.  Son 2 built a mad thing with plastic bricks.  Son 1 alternated listening to Wonder Nanny reading a story with wailing that Son 2 was playing with his toys.  Another family with four primary school-aged children on the next table proved more entertaining than telly. Especially when the elder daughter said “Bugger!”  Father didn’t hear.  Mother was mortified. She recited the names of teachers who would be disappointed with Elder Daughter.      

And then down to a Cove by a Farm.  Son 1 was in raptures. He ran on to the rocks, he ran into the sea. Son 2, on his reins, wanted to follow him. Wonder Nanny tried to gently coax him away. Nope. He was Going In.  Son 1 played Saltwater Strip.  First he took off his wellies and socks, then his trousers.  Then his parkha. Then his sweat shirt.   Son 2 sat and plopped sand and stones in the lapping water. Son 1 hared around madly, darting, splashing, chortling and whooping. The sun came out.  There was just him, small, naked, his reflection dancing on the golden sand, his silhouette sharp against long, low waves as they rolled in and out.  It was very Cave Boy. I felt children had been playing in the same way, on the same rocks, for hundreds of years.  After a good half and hour, Son 2 started to sob with cold and Wonder Nanny scooped him up.  Son 1 fell in the sea up to his ears, but still got up and cavorted around. He finally came to a trembling, frozen halt, and I put him in my jacket and carried him back to the car. Dressed in: a fleece, his sun suit trousers, his wellies and his pirate towelling robe, we went back to look at a field full of mighty great Freisians with massive udders.  “This is so peaceful,” he said. “This is the life.”

After we got back, he demanded a bath. The Man came in and said another family had invited us for an early drink. I said I’d stay in with Son 2. Son 1 almost climbed out of the bath to make sure The Man didn’t leave him.  His first time down the pub with his father.  When he came back I asked “Did you sit quietly with the grown ups, talking, or did you race round with the girls?”  He laughed. “I raced round.”

Marathons

1. Three Good Things Before Breakfast

2. Hand Holding

3. Best Foot Forward

Son 1aged 4y 2m doesn’t got to Nursery on Tuesdays so we have a slightly slower start. A Good Thing already. Son 2 aged 14m stayed asleep till 0640. Another Good Thing. Son 2 went downstairs with The Man without hollering for me. Three Good Things before 7am. A cheer for each, Hooray Hooray Hooray. I had to go into The Office earlier than usual so it felt like I didn’t see the boys very long. Pang Pang Pang.

A Hard Day At The Office – just long, no breaks and a bit of an endurance event. A few new people to meet, which was interesting. Note-taking for seven hours + and unsurprisingly I’ve wrecked my hand and arm. But looking on the bright side it means this will be short tonight.

And I got out for a run. Inspired by Sunday and the scarey fit club runners. I went on the website. I came in the lower three-hundredths in the Road Race. Ten and a half minute miles. I used to run whole marathons faster.

Two And Two Makes Green Hair

1.  Early

2.  The History Of Colour

3.  Green Hair

I have been awake since 0415.  Well, I wanted more hours in the day.  Son 1 aged 4y 1m came upstairs in the dead of night.  I plonked him in the middle.  And he did his usual T-bone thing,  working himself round till he was lying longways between The Man and me.   I gave up trying to get back to sleep at 0515 and came downstairs to sort out some stuff for The Office.  WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH.  The Man got into bed with Son 2 aged 14m and tried to snug him back to sleep.  I drank coffee and did some work, which has given me an early finish tonight, hooray.

A Good Day at The Office.  We got a lot done.  At the end of the day I walked to the car park with two colleagues.  Discussing art.  One has been reading a book on The History Of Colour.  Never occurred to me that colour has a history.  I’d assumed In The Beginning There Was Red… and here we are now.  The other was talking about Turquoise, her birthstone and favourite colour.    It was Lofty, but very matter-of-fact.  l just liked the conversation.   

Late home. Again.  Missed Wonder Nanny.  Son 1 and Son 2 were upstairs with The Man, Son 1 scrabbling desparately to get to me, Son 2 bursting into tears, reaching out little starfish hands, and then, when I picked him up, clinging and resting his head on my shoulder.  They’d been to A Garden with Wonder Nanny, her Nanny Friend and the other two children.  Wonder Nanny told The Man that Nanny Friend is in love with Son 2.  The Man, telling me about it: “I was going to say ‘if she’s good-looking she can come and look after him.’  And then I remembered I can’t say things like that.” There’s a spot of luck.  In bed, Son 1 said ”What’s two and two and two and two?”  I said “Eight.” He said: “Two and two makes green hair.”  And went back to looking for Wally.

The Look

1.  Dropping Off

2.  Sounding Out

3.  Mopping Up

I dropped Son 1 aged 4y 1m off at Nursery, and walked across the tarmac towards my car.  A woman driving off in a Mini wound down her window and smiled at me.  “Good Morning,” I said, thinking did-I-meet-you-at-that-party-I-took-Son-to.  “I just wanted to say how much I like your hair, I always think that” she said.  “What a kind thing to say on a Monday morning,” I said.  “Yours (shining long, rich brown, thick worn loose half way down her back) is very nice, too.”  “No it’s not, it’s just yours is great, I just wish I had the confidence, it’s not just the hair it’s the make up, it’s the whole look, you always stand out.”  “But your hair is beautiful,” I said. “I’ve always wanted long hair, but it would break because it’s bleached.”  “Oh I’m just the same as all the others here, but you really stand out.”  “I’m not sure Son 1 will thank me for that,” I said. 

At lunchtime I met The Man and we went to look at a school in The Town for Son 1.  I have to admit that the drive to the Big Town to go to Nursery is just too much for him.  i thought it would be an extra half hour in the car each day, but by the time I’ve crawled up the main road, parked and dropped him off/picked him up… it’s getting on for an hour and half in the car for him every time he goes.  The school was sweet, the head was fantastic, it did well at Ofsted.  I think Son 1 could be happy there. 

I was very late collecting Son 1 and we were very late back, after a dismally drawn-out drive in the rain and dark.  Son 2 aged 14m was already upstairs with The Man.  Standing in the bath and crying his eyes out.  With a look of pain and misery. Upset because Son 1 and I were missing.   He’s got a light speckled rash on his chest and neck, and several great big spots breaking out on his arms.  Measles I suppose.  He’s definitely out of sorts, and just wants his Mum.  Well he got me.  For about 20 minutes.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

1.  Light Sleep

2.  Light Lunch

3.  Light Work

Son 2 aged 13m’s second time laid straight down in the cot instead of snuggling himself to sleep next to me on the double bed.   I worked late last night “Don’t wake Son 2 when you come up,” said The Man.  He went up.  WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.  Did I a) quietly go up to Son 2’s room and spend 30 minutes soothing him, and then come back and return to my work.  Or b) dart up to our room leaving Son 2 wailing, and dance round pointing at The Man singing “Who Let The Dogs Out?  So The Man did the 6am duty today.  And I had a lie in till gone 7.

We went to The Beach to see some friends, who were Swimming In The Sea. I said I’d do it next week.  Son 1 aged 4y 1m ran round a bit with the children, I spread out a rug on the sand for Son 2 who  crawled off it at speed and never went back.  They were both knackered, and passed out in the car as we drove off.  So we went to a seaside restaurant where we could park the car, sit outside and see the boys asleep in their seats.  We had coffee.  They stayed asleep.  I read the Independent.  The Man read the local paper. The temperature dropped.  The wind got up.  We’d missed breakfast, so we ordered Tapas.  It took forever to come.   Son 2 woke up and ate some of The Man’s salmon and chips. 

When we got back home Son 1 had missed lunch and was still tired.  Son 2 hadn’t eaten enough and refused to have an afternoon sleep.  So they were Very Hard Work Indeed.  I have worked out since she started doing 4 days a week that the difference between me and Wonder Nanny is that if Going Out will disrupt meals or sleeps she just doesn’t do it.  Whereas off we always jolly well go.  ”Why do they behave so perfectly for her, and melt down for me?” I ask.  We stuffed sausages and mash in them at half past four and put them to bed early.   Son 2 straight into the cot.  I wanted to blog, so  The Man’s gone up ahead of me.  WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.