Two long (11am-9pm), family-unfriendly day shifts down, one to go …

We hurriedly dress and bundle James off first thing each morning to his own childminder, and find him already snuggled up in bed fast asleep when we get in from work.

My older children love this shift – they hog the pc every evening, change the radio stations and eat toast.

I was strapping James into his car seat this afternoon as a funeral cortege drove right past our house ...

I tried to look solemnly respectful.

“Mummy - did that man die because he got runned over or did he have a frog in his throat? …”

Then I collapsed.

James will be four on Saturday and is beside himself with excitement …

This is his first year of really ‘getting’ the whole birthday concept.

He will be having a bouncy castle party at our local leisure centre where a helper is provided and - crucially – a catering and clearing up service.

We asked him what he would like for a present now he was going to be such a big boy.

"Lace-up shoes please” was his earnest reply.

Sand!!!! …

The arrival of this year’s first bags of clean sand for our pressure-washed sand pit has brought magnetic excitement to the children.

First they congregated around its rim like old washer women and swapped sand stories.

Then they stripped off to play ‘beaches,’ grabbed spades and turned my lovely lawn into their own private beach.

“Can you put some water in the sandpit for our sea now please, Cheryl?”

Right - that is absolutely the last time I am letting my son in the shower with me …

“Big fat tummy mummy" - pat, prod. "There’s a baby in there isn’t there?”

"No!" - hasty suck in.

"What's in there then?" - pat, prod.

Serves me right for scoffing (sharing) his Easter chocolate I suppose.

James adores Katie Morag …

For at least two months he has asked at bedtime to be read one of her 4 island adventures.

I have read each story so many times that I can do impressive (to a 3yr old) impromptu recitals ‘from my head’ - with dramatic embellishments.

Katie is a plucky Scottish island lassie with hard-working parents and a kindly, heroine Grannie - Grannie Island - who wears no-nonsense dungarees, drives a tractor and lives in a croft on the other side of the bay.

The illustrations are out of this world - filled with quirky little delights.

In fact I’ll be quite sad myself when James tires of Katie.

Speechless …

Look at this beautiful, beautiful, throw. A handmade Beltaine present, given to me today by parents of a little boy I care for.

This afternoon we made plops and ripples by throwing stones into a river …

We found buttercups, violets and dandelions, watched a busy squirrel and quacked back at three ducks speeding downstream.

Dog-poo dodging though is an unnecessary distraction to woodland-toddling.

Me yelling ‘mind the poo’ does not encourage free observation.

To complement the cut daffs ...

which are colourfully plonked in every room for the ‘viewers’, the children are going to make their own spring flower wall display for the playroom.

We are hoping to spend most of the Easter weekend outdoors in the parks and woods working on our research.

Once completed, I will post pictures of the children's artwork here.

House selling update …

Several viewings (no takers), and one suspected drive-by of a family of four in a Renault Scenic (mum in front passenger seat clutching details and staring).

Bread maker on permanent stand-by.

Today a parent told me - when collecting her child - that I had ‘The Look’.

The ‘Look’???

Fashion? … Grooming? … Mad Bleach Woman?

Or that ever so slightly, edgy, Basil Fawlty type look which comes from a morning of caring for two ever so unique 6yr old boys?

Dawn is my internet friend ...

She liked my blog so much - she got one for herself.

'Small Steps Childcare'

Way to go Dawn.

Q. How to get your man to do all those ‘get around to’ jobs …
A. Put your house on the market.

Q. How to make him enjoy doing those jobs so much that he starts whistling while he’s doing them …
A. Toddler psychology.

Q. How to make him shut up already with the blasted whistling …
A. Wifely promises

This week's tally:

Garden – grass cut, borders weeded, fences re-stained.
Loft – piled high.
Bathroom – bleach resistant bits re-grouted and resealed.
Windows – cleaned and polished to sparkly showroom standard.
Kitchen food cupboard (and this is the one that makes me fear I may have gone a tad too far with the wifely promises) - completely emptied, cleaned and rearranged - in military, face to the front order.

Potential buyers notice grubby finger prints and condensation spots …

Micro-fibre cloths are all very well … but you can’t beat neat bleach on a toothbrush.

Tesco value products are functional (I like functional) … but I need ‘Lifestyle’.

So I went in search of some real bathroom ‘Products’.

18yr daughter - “OMG mum!!!!! – You’ve got ‘Aussie’ shampoo!!!!! - Pleeeeeeeese can I use it, its soooooo lush!!!!!

16yr old son – “Candles? – Cool – Can I have one in my room?”

Husband – “What’s with the fluffy white towels – is that so they won’t show the bleach spots.”

Ha Ha - Funny.

I could however become very accustomed to this luxury loo roll.

Mama Zooms …

Is a simple picture storybook for children about the imaginative adventures of a small boy whose mum has a fantastic, wheeled zooming machine.

She sits him on her lap and zooms him to all sorts of brilliant places – even into space.

If you are looking for books for small children that explain different special needs with humour as well as with matter-of-fact honesty, search Amazon for ‘children, special needs’.

It suggests lots of interesting titles and reviews - many of them American.

Whilst loafing on station today I caught part of an antiques programme on TV ...

I was stunned to see an ancient, hand-painted, miniature, children’s china tea-set – obviously lovingly played with, but still in clearly recognisable pieces.

I fancifully tried to imagine my lot gently removing each item, delicately sharing around pretend afternoon tea with themselves and their dollies/teddies/model ET and Buzz Light Year, and washing and returning each undamaged item to its precious box for safe keeping.

Cheap, disposable plastic might have a lot to answer for.

I can feel an urge to experiment.

“But, Mummy …"

"It’s not DARK outside, so it’s NOT bedtime.”

"You're right darling. It isn't dark is it? But it is bedtime really. It's just that it is summer now, not winter, so the sun is higher in the sky. It's still seven o'clock, look".

Scowling, stomping son - "No it's not, it's still light so it's NOT bedtime".

Mummy - (muttering under her breath to herself and cursing BST through gritted teeth, whilst smiling sweetly and waving Shrek pyjamas with intent) - "Oh yes it sodding well is".

Bib-phobia …

Otherwise known as - “Look here, now I am 2, I am perfectly able to feed myself without one of your tea-towels draped over me, thank you very much” - is such an endearing toddler phase.

I have sent a little girl home today with a coco pop covered t-shirt, an orange juice covered pair of trousers … and a pair of very muddy, pink canvas shoes.

Well, we did have pink wellies, but it appears wellie-phobia is setting in too.