I am mother to an eleven month old. And I am not a bad Mammy. But it seems that I spend my days berating myself and telling myself that I am. This I know and I do it anyway. I’m not the only one.
The tiny tyrant is on the move. It started with rolling (NEVER to be ignored on the sofa), then a rather pathetic attempt at crawling where he drags himself along the floor, and now it’s gone to pulling himself up to standing. He is immensely proud. I am having mini heart attacks. Read More
It seems to be one of the mysteries of parenthood. Some people have it cracked from the day dot. I’m convinced that they’re paying their children to sleep for them. And I’m tempted to try it. Others, not unlike myself, take a bit longer to get the knack of getting the little darlings to close their eyes, stop whining/shouting/making gurgling noises with their finger and lips, and settle into a slumber so Mammy can have some much needed downtime on the couch catching up on all things Shonda Rhimes (or whatever other show you’re currently engrossed in).
So what is this secret? Here are my steps to getting the child to concede to the land of sleepy time. Read More
Yesterday, I was able to walk into a book shop and buy a magazine and open it to find my words, my name and my photo written on the glossy pages inside. To say I’m excited is an understatement – the fact that someone else found my writing worth publishing, and not just relegated to stuff I put up myself on the internet is something which amazes me and has done since my initial emails with the editor. Read More
I see an awful lot of 5.30ams these days. Previously, I would have looked on this as a time only acceptable from the other side; no sane person would ever willingly be up and awake at that hour, out of warm cosy bed and dealing with the freezing cold morning. These days however I come equipped with an alarm clock that can’t be silenced, as much as I shush him and attempt to grapple five more minutes of sleep, he is in control of the sleep and having gone to bed at 9pm the night before, he’s happily all done with that. Really, I should start going to bed that early myself… Read More
Been a bit quiet around here the last few days. Life has gotten busy, I’ve discovered the joys (sarcasm fully intended) of the late shift when you don’t get a lie in (a work day that ends at 8 when you’ve been up since potentially 5 is not fun), and I was feeling super proud of my sleeping child and my resolve in making my life healthier. Life was good, until I tried to make it better. Read More
It’s done. We’ve managed to complete a whole week without a nighttime co-sleep. While this was indeed helped by the fact that Nanny and Grandad took over for the weekend while Mammy and Daddy got some well-earned party and date time, it’s done. It’s an achievement.
A friend of mine is returning to work after her lovely long maternity leave with her gorgeous baby girl. As I’ve been through it, hell and all, recently enough and have come out the other side a better (but more exhausted) woman, I thought there were a few words of wisdom that I could pass along. With a ton of help from many other better experienced blogger Mama’s than I am.
Since returning to work in October, Iâ€™ve found myself applying for a few things within my company to expand my experience, or add a layer of flexibility to my schedule. If I manage it, I can spend more of my childâ€™s awake time with him and less of it staring at a screen feeling like I should be at home, singing along to the various singing plastic objects to make him smile. In order to do so, there have been many re-writes of CVâ€™s which make me sound like the most boring person in the world, and also the cover letters where I attempt to pitch myself as being the perfect choice for whatever they want me to be. On second thought, Iâ€™ve realised my CV, and therefore the accompanying cover letter doesnâ€™t do me justice. My new life as a working mama, and my recent parenting experiences have clearly made me invaluable. Thus, Iâ€™m contemplating a change in tone to my applications after thisâ€¦
I’m a terrible woman for buying baby clothes. They’re small and cute and to be fair, a necessary evil given how fast he’s growing out of them lately – my tiny 5lb baby who premie clothes were too big for is now fitting into 9-12 month jeans, how did that happen? Given the recent growth spurt, I made the most of a Christmas shopping trip over the weekend to stock up on some new bits for E that I couldn’t resist. Read More
Post Natal Depression is a bitch. There, I said it. I’ve thrown down my gauntlet and I refuse to be nice about her anymore – that black dog is a pain in the behind. I’ve tried numerous approaches: ignoring it, pandering to it, acknowledging its existence yet still ignoring it – and yet the deep seeded horrible feelings that it incites in me still bubble to the surface at any moment, and change my thought pattern to something negative. Read More
My baby is eight months old today. It doesn’t feel that long, yet feels like a lot longer at the same time. I’m not going to go into the cliche of not being able to remember life without him, I do, it contained things like lie-ins, nights out on a whim, days off work that didn’t involve watching Bob the Builder, and a lack of knowledge of the contents of Old MacDonalds farm. A different life, where I had changed maybe two nappies ever (ha!) and no idea how many times newborn babies woke up in the middle of the night. Read More
Before my childbirth experience, I had looked into various different options available during labour and felt I’d done my due research, using blogs, articles, personal experience from friends and relatives. In the end, I wound up having an induction at 37 weeks which ended in an Emergency C-Section after 35 long hours. Though I had found out some essentials about a c-section beforehand, I definitely had a knowledge gap in that area. I did learn a couple of things along the way which would have been handy to know beforehand, so I’ve popped together this post to hopefully aid someone else in future.
If you’re expecting a baby, even if you have every intention of a natural vaginal birth, it may help you to be prepared for the possibility of a caesarean section just in case!
Today, in between getting lashed rain on and winding up in my pj’s in bed watching Bob the Builder (what a man, keeping my demon distracted and SILENT for fifteen minutes!), I found myself watching a documentary on women’s relationship with food in Ireland. It was broadcast on RTE this week so I found it on their player, and found myself drawn into it as its something which has been prevalent in my mind of late. Read More
Teething, thou art a heartless bitch. We got two teeth in a while back, and while it was a horrible few days (after three months of whining and red cheeks), both teeth popped up within 24 hours, and now we’re able to bite on our finger food before mushing it into the rest of our face/Mammy’s clean work clothes. This time around, it isn’t going as simply. Read More
I was never really a proper girly girl until about a year and a half ago – I did the basic makeup, but never was one of those girls who refused to leave the house without it. There seemed to be a seismic shift around the time I got pregnant – I can only blame hormones – and I discovered the joy that can be found in eyeshadows and lipsticks and things other people had long raved about. Read More
Speaking to a friend of mine the other day over tea, I was informed I’d have to make a list, when her time came to join the mammy-hood, of the essential things she’d need to have. I myself made use of many of these lists, including this one from the lovely Sinead at Bumbles of Rice. There are so many of them all over the internet, that you spend your pregnancy looking at, and worrying that you won’t have enough, or that you have too much (the more likely one). These, however, were my absolute must-haves; the survival kit which made life easier, which is definitely what you want when your world has been turned upside down by a tiny (cute) tyrant.
Ah reading, my old friend, the thing I used to do before my spare time was taken up with blogging, and singing “Ali Baba had a big farm” (to myself, sans child, before cursing myself for singing the bloody thing again). I was one of those children who literally devoured books – under the covers with a torch after bedtime, hiding them in school books to finish a chapter, even my go-to place in a toy shop, if lost, was the book section. I saw myself as a bit of a Matilda, minus the dysfunctional family and the magical powers, though I always envied the magic powers. Though life is now taken up more with watching things, and writing things, and saying I’ll get around to reading things, there is no denying that there is no better relaxation than curling up with a hot cup of tea, a duvet and a book you’re looking forward to reading.
In internet circles, I find myself surrounded by some of the most amazing inspiring people on a day to day basis. I interact with them in Facebook groups, on twitter, people I’ve never met in real life but have spoken to on a regular basis for the best part of a year. They are strong, courageous women (mostly) who have found themselves able to speak out about things that aren’t normally talked about; things considered taboo. Lately I’ve found myself wanting to say things in the same vein but have found myself afraid, not knowing exactly what to say, or how to say it, or whether I should say it at all. From authors who I really admire, the lovely Marian Keyes, to fellow parenting bloggers Karen and Suzy, these women have made me feel as if it is okay, which is exactly why I’m writing this now.
It is 5am on a Sunday morning. Previously I only ever saw this hour from the other end, the tail end of a night out, with fried chicken and a cup of tea in front of me, heels thrown off beside the sofa and my pillow calling me for a rather long lovely lie in (or at least six or seven hours of straight sleep if I had work the following afternoon, thank you Sunday opening hours). Now there is no fried chicken, no cup of tea and a child bouncing in an exersaucer pressing on the keys of the keyboard and questioning why he can’t do his remix of Old MacDonald, Jingle Bells and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on a loop like he has been for the last week. Mammy needed her off button. It can work again when the sun is awake. Read More
There’s a little boy asleep on my bed. Unfortunately it is in a position I’ll have to move him from; its a tad difficult to hop into bed when you’ve got an infant starfished out in the middle of it, on top of the duvet. But he is asleep, snoring his little heart out, smiling with one eye a tiny bit open like always, as if he will miss something if he closes both eyes and surrenders to sleep entirely. Read More
What to do when you’re being deprived of the right to catch a bit of shut eye? May as well find something good to watch. Our house at the moment is an awake one, reluctantly for the adults, enthusiastically for our tiny tyrant. I get where he’s coming from; Mammy used to spend all day with him so he had all day with her and all night to sleep. Now Mammy goes away for the day so something has to go, and its not the time with Mammy that he is willing to forfeit. His little eyes have full-on suitcases under them, but he’s bouncing awake three hours after bedtime every night this week, and grumpy because he’s tired and we’re less enthusiastic about play with every hour that goes by. Read More
The baby has man flu.
Or, rather, he’s got his first ever cold and it isn’t a sensation he’s enamoured with at all. Read More
I failed my theory test by one question the other day. The fact that it was one question is what annoys me most about it, but I’m confident that next time, when I haven’t been moving house for the previous week while learning to cope with a five month old practicing drop-and-rolls constantly, I’ll manage it.The theory test was filled with questions that for some of them, had nonsense answers – the obvious ones, I grant you – Option D for one question about what to do when an elderly person is crossing the road when the light turned green suggested to shout at them to move along and keep driving. It was also filled with questions that had multiple answers, i.e. the real law abiding answer, and the how everyone does it answer. It got me thinking; what if there had to be a parenting theory test?