When my first child started school two years ago, everyone said it would be a big change. I didn’t exactly disbelieve them, but really, I thought, how big could it possibly be? Unsurprisingly, I got it completely wrong. 1. School is just the next step after crèche, right? What I
Tiny grown-up girl, wrapped up in swathes of burgundy, you smile out, from deep inside. Oblivious to the over-size, just happy to finally be there. It’s a hand-me-down from your big sister, but you don’t mind. You’ve waited two long years to follow in her foot-steps; to follow in her uniform.
“Women have been conditioned to feel that it’s up to them to keep all balls in the air which in reality is just not feasible (not to mention unfair)” This week’s interview is with bestselling author Melissa Hill, who lives in South Dublin with her husband and four-year-old daughter. After
Our year of Friday mornings is over, and I’m trying to be a grown-up about it, but you’re holding up better than I am. You love our routine almost as much as I do; we drop your big sister to school, then we wander slowly back, you holding onto the
I haven’t stopped crying for two days – this is only slightly more crying than usual; fueled by goodbyes to teachers and to pre-school and to another chunk of childhood. I’m a crier. Anything sets me off. Some days, everything sets me off. Like yesterday. It started early, when a
I wrote a Mother’s Day post for eumom and hadn’t intended to write another one here, but then my six year old told me about a game they had played in school – all about mums. Taking her turn along with each of her classmates, she was asked to tell
Today’s newspaper was already on the mat when I arrived home last night, or rather this morning, just after 3am. I felt a surge of The Fear when I saw it there, reminiscent of the feeling I used to get fifteen years ago, arriving home from impromptu Wednesday beers and
“So how was school today, any news?” I asked, as I turned the key in the ignition. “Mum, I think Emily is moving to Wexford. She wasn’t supposed to tell me, so don’t say it to her mum if you see her at the school. Maybe you can ask her
When we finished school in 1993, nobody in Ireland had ever queued overnight to buy a house from the plans, Anglo was just another fairly innocuous bank, and Justin Bieber hadn’t been born yet. We said good-bye to one another without the benefit of mobile phone numbers or email addresses
This is how homework goes in our house: Me: Clara please can you come and start your homework Clara: (silence) Me: Please, come on, we need to get started Clara: In a minute mum Multiply this and various other responses by well, a lot, and fast forward to half an
You stepped silently down the stairs, gliding almost, and quietly joined us in the kitchen. The skirt that grazed your ankles a year ago when you first wore a uniform is now swishing around your knees. You slipped wordlessly into your seat, entirely focused on breakfast to the exclusion of
This week, the Irish Parenting Bloggers are writing about back-to-school costs, a topic that’s causing frustration for some and fear for many more around the country this week. In our house, we are at the early stages of the school life-cycle; we have just one of our three in school,
School’s out for summer, and for parents all over the country it’s a significant milestone in any year. For our family, until now, this time of year meant just two things: lighter traffic in the morning and holidays jumping to twice the price. But for the first time, we experienced end-of-term properly