work
In defence of make-up
The barefaced selfies that are sweeping through Facebook and Twitter have generated much debate – some have questioned the whole idea, citing vanity as an objection, but it has raised hundreds of thousands of euro for the Irish Cancer Society so it’s hard to see how it can be bad
So, is it easier to be at work or at home with the kids?
“Work is a break for me” and “Heading home now to the real job” are some of the comments I used to hear from work colleagues who were parents – this was before I had children myself, and really, I didn’t believe them. Surely they were just trying to make
Silver linings
It’s two months now since our nanny upped and left after just four days, with no notice and almost no notification of any kind. We were not impressed (the tears are almost visible here). She will be on the family blacklist FOREVER. I spent the following weeks worrying about work and
Martyrdom doesn’t pay
Don’t be a martyr. Don’t be a mammy-martyr or a worker-bee-martyr or any other kind. It didn’t end well for Joan of Arc and it won’t end well for you. I don’t know if it’s an Irish thing or a woman thing or a mother thing, or maybe a little
sense and sensibility
It’s been a tricky week – the type of week we all have from time to time, that makes you take stock of what’s important – family, friends, health (and erm, sunshine, in case the weather gods are paying attention) My mood matched the thunder and rain that we’ve had
still learning from the kids
There was a funny moment this morning when I was getting breakfast for the kids – well ironic more than funny. The two girls were busy at the table making necklaces by threading beads onto string, and deep in concentration, they were ignoring my requests for help. I was rushing
the do’s and don’ts of starting 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
Never tweet your heroes: part II
So I’ve learned two important things since writing the below post last April – it’s a story about tripping over a laundry basket and spraining my finger, being unable to drive and therefore taking a bus to work. This gave me some unexpected time for browsing Facebook and Twitter on my
The mammy-war myth
Mommy-wars. Or since we’re in Ireland, let’s say Mammy-wars. I can’t stand the term, but it’s the widely-used name for the phenomenon of mothers judging mothers on every element of parenting, originally coined to refer to mothers working outside the home versus stay-at-home mothers. Newspapers love the SAHM/ mothers working outside the
a little post about a super-nanny
Today is my birthday, and I arrived home from work to an eerily silent house. As I looked around in mild confusion, two excited girls, one bemused little boy and one smiling childminder jumped out from behind the counter and yelled “surprise!” There was a cake on the table – this is
Childcare betrayal
Breach of trust, on every level. Like thousands of people who watched Prime Time last night, I’ve spent the morning trying to focus on work but my mind keeps going back to the images of children being slammed down on mattresses, tiny toddlers being punished despite being far too young,
Weighing in on childcare
As a mother to three children under six, most of my adult conversations every day are with other parents, most of whom have kids in childcare. Over the last few days, a recurring topic is the news story about RTE’s Prime Time sending undercover researchers into two Dublin creches, and gathering video footage
More Guilt – and Some Practical Tips for Dealing With Exhaustion at Work
It’s lunchtime and I’m under my desk having a snooze. Well not really, but that’s where I’d love to be right now, as I scribble these notes and drink my third cappuccino. My baby was up all night, and I’m beyond exhausted. OK he’s not technically a baby anymore, and it
Never tweet your heroes…
It started on Monday morning when rushing around getting ready for work, I tripped over a basket of clean washing (it was clean, somehow that matters) and sprained my finger. Just my little finger on my left hand, but oh my, the pain, and oh goodness, the ramifications. I couldn’t
double standards and a nice cup of tea
I should have been in bed, it was heading towards midnight on Sunday, and I was due up at 4am to head to the airport for a work trip. As usual I was feeling 90% apprehensive – worrying about leaving the kids, anxious that the baby would wake during the night and not understand
Switching off
It’s Good Friday, and I haven’t thought about work once today – I love that. We took the kids to Powerscourt House and Gardens – well OK, the House followed by an “adventure” exploring the trees and grass verges on the way back to the car, via the garden centre.
Don’t rock that boat
Today I was chatting to a friend who is a mum of two small children and works a three day week. She job-shares, but the person with whom she shares is leaving her role. My friend’s company are not hiring anyone to replace this position, and she has been told