December downs

Angus hasn't been very well the last few days, barking his way through the night on Saturday as a bad chest cold took hold. Sharon kept him off pre-school yesterday and today, with the result that he missed his Christmas party and carol concert, which was a shame. He also had a nose bleed today, possibly as a result of all his coughing, and that freaked him out a bit, not being used to the sight of his own blood! Angus has fairly been singing recently, in the car and the house, and it has been lovely to hear. Little Donkey, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, I'm a Little Snowman and the Christmas nursery staple, When Santa Got Stuck Up The Chimney, have all been wheeled out again and again.

Sean learned a life lesson yesterday. He was taking part in a class bake-off with two of his classmates and had made a Yule log. I left him into school in the morning, really excited, sure he had a great chance of winning. When Sharon picked him up at home time he was utterly crestfallen. In a blind tasting he had only received two votes and was stung by some of the negative comments such as "sickly" and "I couldn't eat any more". Sean has a competitive streak, which is good, but doesn't take defeat well and struggles to take positives from criticism or feedback. There were some positive remarks such as "well presented" but Sean can't see past the brickbats. I had a chat with him on the drive back from gymnastics and reminded him he had to think why he did baking. Was it to be competitive or was it for the fun of picking a recipe, finding ingredients, learning the technique, eating the results and sharing them with his family? And to learn how to take on feedback. Not to react right away but to think about it and to consider later whether there was anything he could improve on. In 20 months' time Sean will be starting high school. It's important we arm him with the tools he needs to cope with life and make sure he feels he can talk to us. As someone said, if you want your children to talk to you about the big things when they grow up, make time for the small things when they're small, because to them they are big things.

Sick kids

Sharon headed down to London this week for an overnight Exec meeting. I was looking after the boys, a task made more problematic by the sickenss that seems to have been making slow and steady progress around the house for the last months. On Tuesday I arrived for school pick-up to be greeted by a wailing Rowan who had been lying on the floor of the classroom complaining of a sore stomach as the day had progressed. Angus went one better and was sick on the pavement as I was trying to get the boys in the car. So, no point in going to swimming lessons with half the party unwell. Sean and Finn were delighted.

Angus perked up in the evening and Rowan certainly seemed better in the morning so both went to nursery and school respectively. I worked from home and duly got a call from school at lunchtime to come and pick up Rowan and then, later, work from the nursery that Angus had been sick. We kept both of them off on the Thursday: Angus was sick again, again in mid-afternoon after appearing to be fine and eating well in the morning and evening. Rowan seemed absolutely fine so he was put back into school on the Friday. Angus was sick again on Friday afternoon.

Over the weekend both seemed fine but Sharon broke her little toe, cracking it on the splayed leg of Angus's high-chair. The sooner that chair goes the better. Angus causes a rumpus by demanding to sit on a normal chair anyway, so maybe it's time to build the sixth chair and retire the high-chair.

In between dealing with the sick kids we attended parents' night at the school. All seem to be doing fine. Mrs Cameron was high in her praise of Sean and his enthusiasm for his work. She also highlighted his wheeler-dealer nature and canniness in understanding things. This can be in contrast to what we see at home when he just doesn't seem to think things through at all. Mr Peach correctly observed that Finn was quite reserved and held back a bit, being very capable but sometimes a little slow to complete work he is well able to do. This is our experience in getting him to do his homework: he can be very reluctant to crack on and do it but his joined up writing is very good and his reading is now excellent. Finally, Mrs. Cooke said Rowan has settled well into P1 though he is still a bit of a livewire in class. His reading has come on along very well in the last few weeks and he's starting to try harder in his written work. Concentration on tasks like that are where he needs to focus his energies. He loves to answer first when Mrs Cooke asks the class questions.

All in all, the boys are doing well and progressing in their learning.

Rowan is five

Hot on the heels of Sean's birthday comes the be-dimpled boy's birthday. We held a joint family birthday lunch out at Swanston Golf Club on Saturday, after Sean and Finn had completed their golf lesson and Sharon had an unsuccessful trip to Loanhead where the swimming pool was closed. Still, we had a nice lunch and the boys pretty much behaved themselves. Sharon was busy in the afternoon so I had to be the homework boss. Finn has a lot of homework compared to Sean, which usually leads to tantrums and fights. He persevered this time and was doing some excellent joined up writing. Rowan meanwhile is reading very well. It can be hard to determine if he is reading from memory or actually blending his sounds to read the words but either way he's coming on in leaps and bounds.

Sunday was his both his birthday and his party day. He has been looking forward to being five for some time, as he anticipates that a whole new world of possibilities will open up to him now he's five. Like paying on the bus. Sadly, on the day itself, he was a bit subdued by a tummy bug, possibly the same one that seems to have been hanging about the Wallace household for the best part of the last month. At his party, at The Kabin in Loanhead, shared with Toby Francis, he played at hiding under the table, but that was really just Rowan's way of trying to escape from the hubbub, which isn't like him. Usually he likes to run with the pack, nosing his way into everything that's going on. He came out of the soft play too, unlike Angus, who was lathered in sweat. A couple of Rowan's friends complained that "his little brother was hitting them." Basher returns! Finn was at the party but Sean saw sense in avoiding a plague of five year olds and spent the afternoon at Alex's house instead. The party was enjoyed by all, despite Rowan's lack of participation. Later that evening he was complaining more of a sore stomach and got out his bed late for a little supper and a cuddle from his Mammy.

In the morning he opened his presents and had a second go in the evening after his party. With Rowan the enjoyment is usual in the opening and unwrapping and tearing rather than the presents themselves. He got a Vectron Wave from us which was pretty rubbish, to be honest, and doesn't seem to work. He got lots of play figures, some Mega Bloks, a Moshi Monsters gift pack, some money and a couple of tops.

So, not the greatest of fifth birthdays for the King of the Dimples. Here's hoping he recovers soon and really starts to enjoy being a big five year old boy.

Slough Slough sick sick Slough

Sharon has been down in London this week, living it up (and working hard) at the Pampered Chef Exec Seminar. She even had tea at the Ritz! Although there did seem to be a paucity of filling fare. Where's the pies? One of the meals she proclaimed to be the best Chinese meal she's ever had. And she had a workshop playing with Lego, which was a good preamble for this weekend's activities.

So I was doing the childminding bit, whilst also going to work. This isn't easy: getting all four up and dressed and fed and packed and off to school and nursery and then picked up again, fed and bedded is a challenge. Linda was on hand to help with the logistics around Angus and Rowan but I had to take some afternoons off in order to take the boys swimming and pick them up from school.

Olivia, Edel and Barry arrived on Thursday afternoon much to the boys' delight. Angus is delighted to see his little cousin and Rowan is just up to ninety, like he is whenever visitors arrive. We had to build up the fact that he (and Angus) would have Olivia and Edel and Barry to himself over the weekend, to trade off his disappointment at not joining Finn and Sean on the trip to Legoland.

Sean invited us all into his classroom at Friday lunchtime for a Roman feast. I had made chicken (dormouse) kebabs for him to contribute. It was an opportunity to see the other children and parents in the classroon and let Olivia and Edel compare the inside of a Scottish school compared to what they're used to. We had to rush away though, so that Oliv could drive Sean, Finn and me to the airport.

Finn started fretting about the flight down as soon as we walked into the terminal building, saying he didn't want to go. It's difficult to pinpoint when this fear of flying began, but probably the time Sharon took him over to Ireland and there was a hen party blowing whistles, coupled with him having sore ears, still looms large in his mind. He was very upset as we took off and was subsequently sick. Finn calmed down once we were up in the air but was sick again as we began the descent to Heathrow. I didn't feel too clever myself and wasn't sure if the anxiety of the flight was combining with a tummy bug for Finn.

Once we were on the ground he didn't really perk up much, even once Sharon came to collect us in the hire car. On the drive to Slough he was sick a couple of times and once we were in the hotel he still wasn't right. I didn't feel well either and so Sharon left me and took the boys into Windsor for an Italian meal. Finn was sick in the restaurant. And again back in the hotel. My tummy was all over the place too. So the start to our weekend break was not a great one.

To sleep perchance to dream

Back on my favourite topic: sleep, or lack thereof. We've had a difficult few days with Rowan and, to a lesser degree, Finn. Finn is suffering from night terrors at the moment and is regularly waking, screaming and difficult to calm down. Well I say waking, but he's probably still asleep and only does calm down when he gradually wakens. At least this is happening in the evening, before we go to bed, so it isn't too disruptive for us although he runs the risk of waking all his brothers, especially Sean. It's not pleasant to see Finn in such a state either.

Rowan has an ear infection. Ever since he had the RSV virus when he was just a few weeks old, Rowan has been the most "sickly" of the boys, although he is so robust that he hardly warrants that description. When he does have something wrong with him though, he is miserable and he lets us all know it. He'll yell from his bed in the middle of the night, holler uncontrollably when you try to comfort him, argue at the top of his voice when you try to quieten him (Rowan only does loud) and is not one for going back to sleep easily like his brothers. Bringing him into the bed is like introducing a bag of eels beneath the quilt: any hope of sustained periods of sleep soon evaporate. Add into the mix Rowan's insistence on getting one of us up if he needs a wee in the night and him and Finn flouting the "six means stay in bed; seven is wake-up time" rule and you might understand our current weariness.

Fortunately Angus is settling into a routine against this backdrop of nocturnal mayhem, even if we are having to lift him for a feed before we go to bed. He is great when he wakes, with lots of smiles and ga-ga's and hardly a cry as he is fed, changed and put back down. He's generally going from 2345 to around 0630. If only the others would do the same.

Stop noying me

Rowan is a bit poorly at the moment. He had a good week last week, attending Duncan's birthday party but he hasn't been eating well the last few days and has lacked his usual boundless energy. He has been quick to tears and was sick at the breakfast table this morning. I got the bowl in front of him just in time. He perked up after that to remonstrate with Sean: "Stop noying me. I am sick."

An indicator of Rowan's lack of energy was his preference to mostly walk with his scooter around the park at Newtongrange yesterday afternoon. Sean continued to improve on his bike, even managing to start himself and keep going, although his steering and braking need work. He managed to ride into a chain link fence and nick his wrist which prompted squeals audible 80 yards away. Finn was impressing too on his balance bike and looks close to being able to try the real thing soon. We need to get Sean a bigger bike for his birthday.

Angus is still a delight with lots of smiles and plenty of yowling chat when he gets your attention. Unfortunately he hasn't cracked the night sleeps despite taking 7-8oz of milk at midnight. More often than not he wakes between 5 and 6am with the occasional bonus of a post-6am wake-up. He now shimmies on his back, emerging from his baby-gym on to the carpet if left for a few minutes.

The garden has been mostly overlooked this summer and is very overgrown. I tackled the front hedge and trees yesterday so that at least looks a bit neater. I could have done with the practical advice of a house guest we had last week. Joachim, a German living in Canada and a friend of a brother of one of Sharon's team, was staying with us prior to an interview with the Forestry Commission. We could do with a policy for controlling our woodland as the "dwarf conifers" we inherited when we moved in eight years ago have grown up to be large, unwelcome surly teenagers. As in the garden, so in the house...

The plums are hanging off the tree so it looks as though we need to start up the compote and jam-making assembly lines.

If you want blood

Forget official tests for literacy. There should be a marker in a child's development for when they realise, as Sean did on Tuesday walking into school, that "I can make TOILET from TO LET by putting an I in between the TO and the LET."

I had an introduction to Sharon's hectic life yesterday as she was up at Dundee on PC business so I had the joys of the multiple school drops and pick-ups, all with Rowan in tow. Having a cold didn't help but at least the boys were all in decent form. I even managed to take Rowan and Finn to Bonnyrigg soft play in between preparing a fish pie and strawberry and apple crumble for tea, putting away and hanging washings, making bread for myself and lunch for Finn, Rowan and myself. A house-husband's work is never done! And that was without trying to take PC phone calls and answer the odd e-mail.

Sean got one more sticker at swimming on Monday and was working very hard doing about eight 10m return swims from the deep end. Finn got his second merit star home from nursery, having completed his ten stickers for good behaviour. Rowan is still talking nineteen to the dozen. It was interesting to see who would come out the winner between him and Marie: I reckon Rowan shaded it.

Sean was off school yesterday with the cold that laid Finn low last week and has been running out my nose for the last couple of days. As ever, Sean was not the most gracious of patients but even he was deserving of sympathy this morning as he woke up with a horrendous nose-bleed. Finn summoned me as Sean had blood running from his nose, covering his sheets and pillow. He was sick too as we reached the sink, having swallowed a fair bit of blood. Mercifully the flow eventually stopped and he calmed down enough to go to school but it was a bad bleed.

In the bleak midwinter

Sharon's cough is slowly easing, I've got a stinking head cold, Finn had a temperature and cough at the end of the week and is off his food, Rowan is snotty again and Sean just likes to whinge so he doesn't feel left out. It's a sick house as we count down to Christmas and not a particularly jolly one as tiredness and poor appetites are triggering tantrums from little and big alike.

In an attempt to build some festive cheer yesterday we headed into Princes St Gardens on a blowy afternoon to see the reindeer and Santa. Rowan looked a bit non-plussed at Santa but Finn was more interested in the mouse and cat peeking out of Santa's pockets. Sean wasn't quite as thrilled as he was last year and was more excited about climbing atop a litter bin to get a better view. Sharon took the three lads on Santa's train around the gardens which elicited much excitement from Rowan. Given that Rowan on a normal day can be a non-stop voicebox, an excited Rowan can be challenging to say the least. He was playing the innkeeper in his nursery nativity though we can't ascertain whether or not he had any words. Barbara did say that all she heard when the narrator asked "Are the angels here yet?" was a resounding "NO!" from the golden boy. That's his favourite word!

Sharon and I were round at the Broons' house on Saturday night for a joint 40th for Graeme and Carole. It was good getting out and chatting to a few old work pals that I hadn't seen for a while especially after a day of taking the three boys to B&Q, Tesco and the library. I was fed up with the sound of my own voice - "Back here now!", "Stop!", "Hold hands crossing the road!", "No, we're not buying that", "Put that down, it's made of glass!", and so on. Maybe there's a gap in the market for a mini-megaphone with a pre-programmed range of stock parent shouts. It would save on the vocal chords. Although Rowan would probably get hold of it and play one phrase to death.

At least we're not travelling this year. Michael and Marie touch down tomorrow which will even up the adult to child ratio. Maybe it's time to deploy the NORAD Santa Tracker to distract the boys.

Happy Birthday John Wallace! "Grampa John", had he lived, would have been 87 today. At least from this point on, the days should be getting lighter!

Confined to barracks

Rowan is showing small signs of recovery but is still very hard work at the moment. He's great if he gets his way (aren't they all?) but throws massive tantrums if he doesn't get "racin car telly" (Cars DVD) or "pooh bayir telly" (Pooh video) or the food of his choice (anything sugary). Yesterday he managed to clamber out his cot as part of his strop at going down for his lunchtime nap. He thumped to the ground with predictable consequences. I gave up and let him join Finn and Sean for another half-hour's play, waddling around in his gro-bag, before recommencing the battle to put him to bed.

Sean and Finn weren't much better yesterday. The wild weather kept us indoors all weekend apart from a visit to the shops and swimming on Saturday. With Sharon at a PC Autumn Rally all day Sunday it made for hard work as the boys got increasingly bored and antagonistic with each other. Sean has gone daft for Connect 4 and kept bursting into tears if no-one would play him. At least he's stopped being a bad loser, mainly because he's winning half the time, regularly beating me.

Sharon's PC pal, Nikki Shepherd, her husband Simon and their children Georgia and Henry were staying with us Friday and Saturday night so at least we were able to socialise without leaving the house. There was no chance of getting out for a walk however. The roof blew off the wendy house, a bench was tipped up and poor Rowan was laid down in a puddle on his changing mat: it looks as though rain running past the boys' Velux window was being blown under the tiles and flashing and leaked through Rowan's ceiling.

Add to all this that neither Sharon nor I were feeling particularly fit and it made for a hard weekend. For the last few weeks I have had what has become an annual autumn event in recent years: rhinitis and my asthma flaring up. I don't know if it is tree pollen, dust in the house or what, but I wake in the morning feeling like my nose and throat have been dredged in plaster dust. It does little for my morning mood!

Huffin and puffin

Rowan has finally got an inhaler. He has had yet another cold and cough the last week which seems to have developed into a chest and possibly an ear infection so he's back on the penicillin again. His appetite has been very poor recently too although, weighing in at 30lbs, that's not a big concern. He's still keen on "jelly poht" or "yoggut" or "choglit" despite pushing away his main meal.

We went for a very pleasant autumn woodland walk at the weekend, parking the car at the part-demolished (it's being refurbished, apparently) Craiglockhart Sports Centre and climbing the path through the trees up the north side of Easter Craiglockhart Hill. The steep descent to Craiglockhart Pond was a bit hairy with Rowan up on my shoulders and Sean sliding down on his bottom.

On Saturday night we drove through to Glasgow to meet the Lasts for a curry at Koolba in Candleriggs. Sharon had met the owners at a Food Fair in Alva and knowing Lynne and Paul's liking for a curry we thought it would be a good opportunity to catch up with them through in the west. It's rare for us to get out, let alone with friends, let alone in Glasgow, so we thoroughly enjoyed our night out.

It's October holiday week. I'm trying not to think back to last year, where we spent the week in the luxury of a big villa in Mijas Costa. Sharon has had her hands full with Rowan being clingy and the weather verging on the wild. She took the boys and Ross on a rather fruitless drive up to Stanley on Monday. The heavens opened as they arrived so it was a long way for a soft play and lunch. Tuesday was doctors (Rowan) and haircuts, so they're all looking smart with Rowan looking quite the wee boy. Sean and Finn went to Ross's yesterday and they're at Phoebe's today while Sharon does a daytime show down in Berwick. The plus side has been some long lie-ins, with us being able to sleep till 8am most mornings. That will all go to pot next week with the clocks changing and the schools going back.

Headbangers

Rowan had a tumble yesterday. He was trying to climb on to Sharon's leg to sit and rolled right back, banging his head on the corner of the console unit in his room. It wasn't until later when he was bouncing on the trampoline that I noticed his hair was matted with blood at the back. He had a small gash which looked worse than it was. When asked about it he said "head better." Fortunately no stitches were required. Somehow, we've avoided any trips to casualty in that regard, thank goodness.

Finn has reverted to bad habits again, hitting Sharon for no reason and frequently irritating Rowan. He's also had a few days of wetting his bed and pants and got a big row last night for breaking one of his Polly Pocket dolls (12 days since his birthday) by putting her in the bathroom door jamb and closing it. It's hard to know what drives Finn at times; whether he isn't feeling well and takes it out on others, whether as a middle child he feels there is a lack of attention directed towards him or whether he gets a testosterone burst which manifests itself in more aggressive behaviour. Whatever it is, he certainly knows how to press our buttons. Rowan, King of the Tantrums, just has his mother's temper!

A quiet week

Sharon and the boys are due back this afternoon, just before tea. I've had a week of peace and quiet, doing my own thing, spending a little longer at work, cooking a lot (if no-one's there to feed me I'd better get on with it myself), watching sport on the telly and getting annoyed at the weather. It's tipping down again, the latest in a week's worth of heavy showers that kept me from doing anything useful outdoors.

The boys seem to have had a great time despite the weather and despite the fact that the planned extension to Sean and Finn's holiday has had to be cut short due to Olivia still being in hospital. It just isn't cost effective to change the name on the flight but that's RyanAir for you. Sharon had a great Friday afternoon down in Claregalway where the big boys got on famously with Hannah and her hamster and Rowan hit it off with "Postman" Pat ("hello man"). Sharon just enjoyed the chat with Margaret and Norrie. The overnight stay in Tuam was a bit more fraught as Rowan just did not settle all night. He has another chest infection so has yet more penicillin to take. You wonder if he'll be antibiotic-resistant by the age of five. A visit to Joe Gormley, now happily holding court full time in a care home, completed the Galway excursion.

My weekend was rather tedious as I attempted a general tidy-up and re-uniting of the pieces of toys that have been distributed between the main play areas of the house whilst also trying to sort out the boys' clothes, re-locating the stored clothes from the front attic to the rear attic. This was a dusty and thankless endeavour. In the amount of time I have wasted over the last few years seeking faded labels on a myriad of shorts, trousers, t-shirts, vest and jumpers in an attempt to categorise them for storage or return them to their rightful owners after washing I could have done something far more useful like sit down and watch a five-day Test match end-to-end. Still, I've done it once more and have the runny nose to prove it.

So, it's been quiet, but I'm looking forward to everyone coming home and driving me daft once more. At the moment, Sharon has texted to say Rowan is terrorising a three-year-old who was bullying other kids in the play area of the boat and is being the noisiest child by far. I suspect the peace is about to be shattered!

In Dire Straits

No-one was in particularly good form over the holiday weekend as a subtle, slow-acting virus seems to have been passing through the household. Rowan's continued wakefulness doesn't aid recovery either. When under the weather and tired then everything seems like a battle as the children mess about at mealtimes and try our patience to the limit.

Sharon and I escaped to see Mark Knopfler on Sunday night. The boy can play. I preferred the older, more familiar Dire Straits material as some of the newer stuff is a bit country and a bit diddley-i-dill, especially with seven of them playing. Good musicianship though and entertaining enough. We enjoyed a quiet drink in Kays Bar afterwards.

I did battle with the hedge by the garage on Tuesday, ripping most of it out, much to Sharon's horror. I've been spoiling with a fight with most of the hedges for some years now. A few of them are unshapely and unmanageable. Berberis at seven feet high and four feet deep is no fun to trim. Give me the old privet hedges of Raasay Drive any time.

Rowan is making great progress with his words and has become an avid Thomas (bo-bass) the Tank Engine fan. Shouts of "choo-choo!" as he demands one of the Thomas books or starts raiding the train track boxes and spilling their contents on the play room floor, are commonplace. He is now managing to say his own name, after a fashion, as he goes round everyone at the table - da-dee, ma-mee, nho-winn, dhinn, sohnn - and sometimes strings a couple of words together such as "bi-bye bo-bo" as his nappy gets changed.

A sair fecht

An old Scots phrase that my mother was fond of was "it's a sair fecht - if you don't weaken". Sair fecht is "sore fight" for those not versed in the Scots tongue. This week has been a bit of a sair fecht. Rowan has been cutting a bottom molar and seems to have caught a bug too. His nappies have been dreadful and he's been right off his food which isn't like him. Although recent photos suggest it won't do him any harm to skip a few meals!

Finn has been alternating between good ("I'm behaving myself, amn't I Mummy?") and very bad, hitting out and just not doing what he is being asked (and then told). He can be such a lovely lad when you engage him but if there something bothering him or he's not feeling 100% then you have the devil's own job of getting him to cooperate. It doesn't help if you're not feeling great yourself and Sharon seems to have contracted Rowan's bug the last couple of days. Driving down to Alnwick for a big show on Tuesday, her MoonWalk training (donations can be made at the justgiving site) and continued disrupted sleep haven't helped either.

Amazing to think Sean is nearing the end of P1. He is turning into a right wee schoolboy: getting a bit cheekier, forgetting his lunch box, leaving his coat behind, picking things up from his pals and just getting that little bit more grown up. He's reading very well so it's probably as well most of his peers are six months older than him - it gives them a chance!

The garden has put on its usual May spurt. The hedges and grass have sprung to life and a weekend of thankless trimming beckons. Come the end of the summer you wonder why you didn't do more in terms of trips away: these are the chores that you forget you had to get done. That and having no money of course.

18 months old

One and a half already! The twinkly-eyed, dimpled demon that is Rowan Wallace celebrated this landmark by shouting a few of his new words - [s]pi-dah!, coat!, kick!, a-bo (apple) - and then negotiating the front steps without crawling down backwards. His mobility is great and he's keen to climb and get on things like cars and tractors. He was delighted to see a Little Tykes car and Wendy-house appear on the patio on Friday; second-hand purchases from one of Sean's school-friends. Finn and Sean have been warned that they are primarily for Rowan to play with. Sean already had half the roof off last night: "it was too dark" complained Finn.

With the sun beaming down yesterday we spent the Bank Holiday at East Links Farm Park. Us and a couple of hundred other families. I have reservations about the place. The animals and birds seem increasingly irrelevant to the playpark aspects of it all, and it isn't cheap. As Sharon said, us paying £8 each for the privilege of minding our own children (£7 each). But the boys had a blast. Tractors, trampolines, the train ride, the maze through the trees, the hay barn (we are still picking hay out of Sean and Finn's hair), climbing frames and milk-churn skittles - each of the lads found something to their liking. We demolished a huge picnic (took me about an hour to make it in the morning) and dozed on the way home, except for Rowan who had already had his nap.

Finn was hampered a little by a sore leg. He seemed to develop a problem behind his left knee last week after jumping on the trampoline, more likely after falling with Sean on top of him. It gave him bother for a day or two but then eased off but on Saturday he woke crying with pain once more. He had been bouncing on the trampoline that afternoon. Sharon took him to A&E on Sunday but they couldn't find anything amiss. You could tell Finn was hurting when his leg was being manipulated however. He's a wee trouper that lad, doesn't show pain like his whingey big brother, just gets on with it. Sean has a bad cough (passed on from Finn) and Rowan was wailing in the night after being right out of sorts a couple of nights last week. He may have had a bug. Disrupted sleep has been the order of the day (or night).

Sean is getting used to his glasses and we're getting used to him wearing them. His right-eye lens is +6.5 Dioptres, so he really does have a problem there. He says he is starting to see a bit better from that eye and isn't closing it to look at things quite so much. His other lens is only +0.75D.

Sharon's April onslaught has come to an end with her recording a record month of sales and finishing her points-gathering for the Monte Carlo trip on her highest total yet. Will it be enough to earn the suite in Monte Carlo? Time will tell. Edel is in Nice just now and visited Monte Carlo. She reported that it is "opulent". Shame we'll have to get the train along to France to be able to afford a pie and a pint.

Parter in a Pear Tree

I've made a couple of Christmas CD's for the boys, the advantage of doing your own compilation being you can throw in some Eels and Sufjan Stevens to complement the, shall we say, more poppy tunes that are to their liking. On the drive to Ireland (ten days and counting), it helps us keep sane if there is some balance between "Finn and Sean's myu-zik!" and ours.

Finn got all excited when The Twelve Days of Christmas came on. "We got this story at playgroup! It's all about a Parter in a Pear Tree!" Sharon did try to tell him it was a partridge but if there's one thing Finn is good at, it's being adamant. "No-o! It's a Pahrr-terr!"

Rowan is back on his food after a couple of days "aff it". Judging by his atrocious nappies, yet another bug has swept through the Wallace household. He's walking up a storm now although he's got a near black eye from falling against a chair at nursery today.

Sean is to be one of the three innkeepers in the P1 nativity at St. John's church next week. It's a non-speaking part. In fact, it's a non-speaking play. Seems that the P7's will be doing all the readings. We have hopes that he will actually sing this year after his last two thumb-wedged-in festive performances. He sang Away in a Manger (two verses) in bed tonight and has been heard warbling other Christmas ditties as he goes about the house.