Date: September 1st 2015 Mood: Wild elation Source of mood: Three kids in school and preschool for the first time, meaning I could start working mornings instead of only nights. Guilt levels about feelings of elation: Surprisingly mild. Date: September 5th 2015 Mood: Spirit utterly broken Source of mood: Realisation
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
White faces because Factor 50 never quite rubs in. Short-sleeves on the school run. Homework in the garden. Lunch in the garden. Dinner in the garden. A tidy kitchen because we’ve almost entirely relocated to the garden. Ice-cream every day – and twice on Sunday. There’s nothing quite like the drop-everything wonder
Bank holiday Monday morning. I checked the weather on my phone. Cloudy, rainy, and real-feel 5 degrees. I checked the weather through my window. Bright, sunny, and the illusion of warmth. Window trumps phone. Day-trip weather. I suggested Glendalough, everyone agreed. We’d need to be quick though. The last time
It’s after-school activity sign-up time, and I’m looking for some quite specific courses: 1. How to get through the day without changing your clothes fourteen times A course which isn’t necessary for anyone who has a diploma in “putting clothes back in the wardrobe” but is mandatory for everyone else. 2.
I made a list. I had to. Otherwise the summer would slip by in a blur of rain and groceries and the occasional overcast barbecue, and suddenly it would be September 1st. If we were going to do some day trips, I’d need a list. So I wrote down some
This is not a newsflash. If you’re reading this, you’re probably a parent, and you already know that parenting is hard. I like for there to be reason for the hard days though, and this week I learned that sometimes there is no reason. Like Monday morning. I woke up
My head was a little bit tender when I woke up this morning and my brain was a little bit fuzzy – a Prosecco-type fuzziness, after an incredibly fun 40th last night. What I really didn’t want to do was get five of us up and dressed and into the car by 10.15am,
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
As the countdown to summer holidays rolled on last month, one cohort of parents in particular were bracing themselves with an odd mixture of relief and outright fear. On the one hand, it’s great to have no more school-runs, no more homework, and a break for the kids. But for WAHMs,
Our holiday was 80% amazing, and 20% hot-sticky-cross-cranky. Or at specific moments, 80% hot-sticky-cross-cranky and 20% I’m a parent, get me out of here. There’s the stuff that can happen on any holiday – even before kids, or when they’re older and a trip away (presumably) becomes a relaxing event. Like
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
In most countries, temperatures of 18 degrees don’t qualify as a heatwave but in Ireland, we’ll take what we can get. It might be still chilly in exposed areas (in either sense) but we know how fleeting this is, and we’re making the most of it. Some signs there’s a
We were going to go to Howth today, for fish and chips. Or maybe Ardgillan Castle. Or possibly Glendalough, for a picnic. But like everyone else, we woke to that same mixed sky weather we’ve been seeing all week – rain, sun, rain, sun, except with more grey than blue.
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
Recently, I asked my seven-year-old if she remembered Sequoia Parc, the campsite we stayed in, two years ago in France. “Of course I do – it had a dragon pirate ship thing beside the pool,” she said. “No,” I said, “That was Clarys Plage, last year.” She was sure I was wrong.
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
We’re getting braver. This summer we took five day-trips. Not too adventurous and not too far from home, but a step-up from last year. Baby-steps – or toddler-steps as the case may be. So here’s a quick review of five destinations – all within an hour of Dublin: 1. Clara
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
My six-year-old has been talking for months now about an idea she has – she’s planning to open a theme park when she grows up. It’ll be covered snow, there will be sledding, ice-covered slides, and reindeer carousels. You can stay overnight there – like glamping she says, only in