If I’d married someone just like me, we’d have gone on holidays to Italy (we did), to a campsite (we did), to drink Prosecco on the deck every night (we did). But being married to that person just like me would have meant quite a different holiday for the kids
Sitting on the deck at half past midnight, I can hear Killing Me Softly wafting across the campsite, to the background sound of waves washing up on the sand. I’m finishing a glass of red wine and thinking about closing my book. The candle flickers in the darkness, and I
The voice in my ear gives me the go ahead – I’ve completed my self-imposed time running on roads and forest paths, now Runkeeper says I can go onto the beach. I turn and run towards the gate. “Buongiorno,” says the security guard. “Buongiorno,” I reply, in my Irish accent. I
Two things we didn’t consider when we booked our holiday this year: 1. Italy can be very hot in July (subsequent raised eyebrows and “Italy in July? With small kids? Really?” comments did hammer this home) 2. Our campsite, Norcenni Girasole, is inland – way inland – sitting prettily in the hills
It’s a full two months since I finished up in the IFSC so it seems like as good a time as any for an update on life as a WAHM. Highlights Summer holidays – I feel like I’ve discovered a secret world of amazingness. The heady mix of no office
A very nice thing about blogging is being offered products to review. The hard part is deciding whether to say yes or not, but when Claire Povey asked if I’d like to try one of her hand-made beach bags, one click through to her website was enough to convince me to
A package arrived. Excitement was high. One child almost fainted, such was her need to see what was in the big cardboard box. “Relax,” I said, “It’s probably something boring for dad, or for me.” Secretly hoping it was for me. I opened the box. Four heads peered in. “It’s
We are being very brave this summer; we’re getting on an actual airplane with all three kids. We’ve never tried it with three before, and we may never try again either, depending on how it goes. But in a bid to see something further away than a ferry journey allows, we’re
Monday morning 5.10am Pitter patter. Toddler footsteps. All the way around to my side of the bed. “Is it morning mummy?” “No, it’s not morning, I’ll bring you back to your bed.” 7.33am Same footsteps, more resolute attitude. “Me getting in your bed now mummy, it morning-time.” Resistance is futile.
Until recently, apart from lighter traffic on the way to work, the October mid-term break meant nothing to me at all. But since the kids started school, and once I realised that taking the mid-term week off work was the thing to do, this time of year has taken on
Twenty-six years ago, my parents took the ferry to France and made their way down to St Jean de Monts, with four of us rattling around in the back-seat. The roof-rack that held our suitcases was covered in water-proof tarpaulin, secured with rope. My parents found their way by following a
All the talk after the first kids’ club visit was about Darragh-from-Dublin. Or Mr. Pilkington as he was known by those in the know. Emmie had gone on her own for this first visit, but her enthusiastic stories of painting and treasure hunts and Darragh-from-Dublin were enough to convince Clara
Every year, bright-eyed and innocent, I look forward to going away on holidays – to reading and relaxing and resting, and to getting lots of sleep and sun. And every year, I am yet again taken by surprise to find that the holiday isn’t quite the chilled out, easygoing, restful
Holidaying with a toddler is kind of a contradiction in terms – if you expect, that is, for a holiday to be a relaxing affair. If you like high-octane adventure holidays, where you come home exhausted after two weeks of running, climbing and water-based-activities, then of course, holidaying with a
So, inspired by a recent Huff Post Parenting article called “Moms, put on that swimsuit!“, I’ve decided to show solidarity; I’m sharing some photos of myself at the pool. I’m kidding. Of course I’m not going to do that. I’m not insane. Like the mum who wrote the article, I
My first holiday as a parent was a bit of a shock. I remember looking forward to it, thinking that it would a relaxing, sun-filled, restful ten days – a few glasses of wine, some nice dinners, and lots of sleep. Oh and reading – a great chance to catch
It was the August bank holiday weekend, and I really wanted to be like those families who head away spontaneously for a night – we’ve never done that. The budget allowed for this to be a one-night-only event, so options were limited. We considered a self-catering house, but this seemed
The ferry never changes. The familiar smell of exhausts as engines are switched off and families squeeze between rows of roof-box-topped cars to reach the entry doors. The staff with genuine smiles waiting to greet us and help tiny children clamber up the steep steps. The sense of relief when
We’ve just returned home from what has been our best holiday ever. We say that every year of course, and it usually takes a few months and a healthy dose of hindsight to admit that two weeks in a damp mobile home while it rained almost every day was not
This is a picture that I took of my kids having a picnic lunch today, and instinctively thought “I should put this up on Facebook!” I suppose because the kids look happy, they’re having lunch on a picnic rug, and maybe on some level it makes me feel like a