I’m in awe of all the people I know doing Dry January, but I’m going to have to sit this one out. I admire you, but I can’t find it in me to make the toughest month of the year even tougher by giving up nice things. I can’t forego
It’s that in between Christmas and New Year bit when I’ve had just about enough of the Heroes but not quite enough of the Baileys coffee, and I’m looking back at the year gone by before moving on to planning the year ahead. So I’m jumping on the round-up wagon – taking the
This post could also have been called “Pass the Rescue Remedy” or “Christmas is Cancelled” or more practically “I’ve Signed a Book Deal”. At this point I’m more focused on the Rescue Remedy than anything, and still wondering if I’m having a (rather long) dream. A couple of years ago, a
This time five years ago, I was counting down the days to the birth of my third baby – he was due on Christmas Eve, though at the time we didn’t know he was a he. And whether or not we’d have a boy or a girl wasn’t really on
On Monday morning, my youngest got up at 4.45am, and as is always the case when he comes into my bed, neither of us could get back to sleep. An hour later, I convinced him to go back to his room, but for me, it was too late. I couldn’t
I have a dress I love but never wear. It’s a blue print dress with an elusive and sometimes indefinable “flattering fit”. I wore if for the first time when my second baby was a few months old – to go out for dinner with friends. I remember feeling so good about being dressed
What do you miss about life before kids? That was the question in an online discussion I read recently. Sleep. Free-time. Me-time. Money. Nights out. Lying-in. Tea that’s not gone cold. Peeing alone. Not in any kind of “I wish I never had kids because I miss that hot tea so much” way. Just a list of
Once upon a long ago, I used to get the Dart into work every now and then – back in the pre-kid, pre-crèche, pre-car-space days. It was not so much an adventure as a trial by fire back then, and as I wait now (12 minutes!) for my rush hour
“You’ve such a great colour!” said my friend. I was ten years old, and made an “ah not really” gesture, shrugging my shoulders, but secretly thrilled with the comment. Or let’s call it a compliment – it doesn’t really make sense that it’s a compliment – I hadn’t actually done anything
June is mad. So says everyone. Teacher presents and end-of-term nights out and inductions for junior infants. Sports tournaments and school summer fairs – and barbecues every time it stops raining for more than six hours. I woke up this Monday morning and let out a long breath – another manic
What objects define you? That’s the question asked by Maud on Awfully Chipper recently, and her story of her mother’s gold watch hooked me in. My mum had a gold watch with a clasp too, and though I haven’t thought of it for years, when I read Maud’s post, the memory came back
Until my mid twenties, I thought everybody saw numbers and days of the week in colour, and months of the year as concrete spots on an imaginary clock face. Then I had a very enlightening conversation with my sisters who told me they didn’t in fact see Friday as yellow or any
For seventeen years, I had an office uniform. Not a real uniform – just one that met the dress code of a typical office. For the first few years, the self-imposed uniform was mostly black-trousers-and-something, though I occasionally changed it up with grey trousers – just to add a splash of colour. My
“Would you think about signing up for a 5k?” asked my friend, long, long ago (last year) when I first discovered running. But no chance. I didn’t want to take part in any races. I didn’t even want to run 5k on my own. I was happy going out once
He’s the busiest person in the office. Most of us know this person. He is always too busy to stop and talk. He must be important, because nobody could be that busy all the time and not be important. And whatever you do, don’t ask him to take on anything else –
9.20am Homefree! Literally! All three kids at school and preschool for the first time since mid-December. I’m going to get SO much work done. 9.21am I better check email. And Twitter, in case there’s important news in the world. And Facebook, in case anyone I know posted a photo of anything
In theory, there’s no reason to make resolutions just because it’s the start of a new year, but where there’s an excuse to make a list and potentially tick things off, count me in. I don’t usually make long or detailed resolutions – I hand-pick a handful of broad goals and write them on the
I can sense his dissatisfaction. He plucks the crown off again, mutters something, and goes back to filing it. I’m staring up at a light through oversized plastic glasses and my nails are digging into my palm. Is he muttering because it’s not going well? Should I be worried? Maybe
The roar of football from one room, a kids’ movie in the other. The smell of steak and onions. An as yet unopened bottle of red on the counter. It’s on a promise. The doors are closed, the blinds are down, the pressure’s off. There’s a blanket of calm with a weave of
This morning I dropped my three-year-old to preschool, and when I got home, I clicked onto Twitter. The first thing I saw was the picture of Syrian child Aylan Kurdi’s body on a beach. Instinctively I clicked back out – it felt completely wrong to look at it at all. But a