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.
FOMO is prevalent in most of our daily lives. The fear of missing out. It varies from person to person, and varies to each person as they go through different stages of their lives. For me, it used to be FOMO for nights out – nights that I was too wrecked after work, and wanted to do no more than curl up with a cup of tea and a few episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, but forced myself to go out for fear of missing a great night out and the stories that would go along with it. As I’ve gotten older, become a Mammy and developed a far greater respect for sleep, I’ve noticed the focus of my FOMO change – it’s now in shows I, and others in my social circle, watch. Everything has to be watched as quickly as it is possibly available to avoid spoilers, to avoid some internet being telling you the twists and turns of the episode to disallow you to enjoy the surprises for yourself. (Thank you very much, Facebook spoilers for Game of Thrones). 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
I tend to like September. It always signalled to me the start of something new. It’s when I started each school year, when I moved to Cork, started my degree. It also helps that there is a healthy dose of birthday cake in the middle of the month, as my dad, brother and I all have our birthdays within five days of each other, in the next week. Read More
At 12 weeks old, we deemed Eliott old enough to go spend some bonding time with his grandparents in Wexford without us. They raised three kids and got them all through secondary school, as of last week, so it felt okay trusting them with a baby who stays put when you put him down and generally quietens his screams if given a bottle. All grandparents have offered the break, so we jumped at the chance and off we went to Killarney, Co.Kerry. It was a long promised trip that we’d kinda put on the long finger when we were busy being pregnant and sleep deprived.