The countdown to Christmas is officially started. Mariah Carey is being overplayed at all angles. Nights out where you hit twelve pubs and wind up unable to remember much of it are the norm, and tacky jumpers are the couture of choice. Ah yes, Christmas, the time of Mince Pies, Golden Barrels and getting tangled in the Christmas lights. (more…)
So it’s freezing. It’s the first of December, acceptable to play Christmas music and resolve to change your ways in January (sure, whats the point when Christmas is around the corner and you can just make them New Years resolutions soon?). It’s also now acceptable to call a Giveaway a Christmas Giveaway (see more information below!)
In our house we’ve been having more days in – with the weather taking a turn for the colder and wetter, and the evenings getting dark much earlier, it’s become a nicer thing to settle down in front of a show or a movie, with tea and let the hours drift by. And now that it’s officially December and the shops have decided to belt out Mariah Carey, it’s okay to watch Christmas specials! (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. (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. (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!
I’m not really a major heels wearer, despite being five foot nothing and having everyone else tower over me. Apart from my boots, very few shoes I own have a heel bigger than an inch. It hasn’t always been this way, I used to have many love affairs with many pretty shoes. I ignored all warnings of how crap they were for my feet, ignored the pains in my feet and relished the moment at the end of the night where I got to throw them off at the front door, curl up on the couch with a cup of tea and feel the relief sink in, from the toes up.
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. (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. (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. (more…)
I fear I’ve been a bit of a bust on both the writing and diet front for November – I got hit by a rather diabolical bout of writers block over the last week, and responded to it by opening the biscuits. I blame the cold weather! And lack of motivation, and the fact that the shortcake biscuits go so well with my tea… That and the broken Macbook which makes this post necessary to come from my phone…
To remove the concentration from my complete fail of a week, I guess I should focus on the good, things that have gone on that I’ve found brilliant, and fun and all things wonderful. So here is my long-neglected Loves of the Week! (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.
Five years ago today, I received the worst phone call I have received in my life; telling me that a friend of mine had passed away at an age far too young to even consider it being the right time. I was eighteen, and at that point in my head I could not reconcile that someone my age could be there, so full of life, one day and gone the next. Five years on at twenty three, it doesn’t make much more sense.
She was a mad spirit, there was no denying it, always full of fun and devilment, and fiercely loyal. There’s a void in the world thats not been closed since her leaving it, where there should be a girl sipping a cup of milk with a drop of tea in it, and chatting excitedly over copious amounts of chocolate. Little things still let me know that she’s there from time to time. Today it was the influx of Irish Heart Foundation collectors around town, asking for donations to fund CPR training in schools and community groups.
Five years goes so fast, it’s hard to believe. Time heals hearts, though never fully. So today, I’m just taking a minute to remember.
I’m on the hunt for two things in life at the moment – well, three, but overall the meaning of life is eluding me, so we’re going to have to generalise it to two things – boots and lipstick. Which makes me sound awfully materialistic, but the way I’m looking at it is that I’m more of a realist. I’m not going to a) lose 3 stone overnight and have the figure of a woman who has not had a baby in the last year, b) win the Euromillions and be able to throw caution to the wind and do things on a whim or c) wake up in the morning and realise what my life purpose is.
I’ve lived in Cork city for five years. I moved down here in September of 2009 and went on to gain the accent in ways I can’t get rid of, gain my degree, become friends with some of the best people in the universe, and have wound up still here all these years later, in our little family of three and still working here. In those five years I’ve learned there is a lot to love about this place – you have to start looking at the positives when you hate rain and you live here; there’s quite a lot of rain so there has to be quite a lot to offset it. So, in the spirit of positivity, here is my little Love Letter to Cork – things you really must do here, in my opinion. (more…)
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.
So November is among us. Last night, Cork (and numerous other places, likely) was filled with people dressed in an array of costumes, scary and not scary (Kudos to the couple going around dressed as Mary Poppins and Dick Van Dyke the chimney sweep, loved it!) celebrating Halloween, and today the majority have woken up hungover to the sky falling. It’s officially Winter, and the great rain lords have started celebrating. Whats that about us having to pay for this stuff falling out of the sky? (more…)
I recently read this article in the Irish Times, which declares that having a third child doesn’t make parents any happier. The headline made it sound so negative; as if it was declaring that a third child was a bad move, that it wouldn’t be the happy experience that was the first and second child. The mother in me can see reasons for this, the economics graduate in me sees the reasoning behind the research; both are different reasonings but can be considered equally as valid. However, sensationalist headlines negate the good behind the research, which is a shame really. As much as I’d like an excuse to tease my littlest brother (the 3rd child) about being unloved (Ha, the favourite more like), that isn’t what the article was saying. Unfortunately it seems from the backlash I’ve seen online that most people haven’t looked into the research and just seem to be going on the headline. (more…)
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). (more…)
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.
For the last few years, I’ve developed a habit of baking when I’m stressed. For a girl who only did one year of Home Ec in school, I seem to have developed an affinity with it for taking the blues away – as my college house mates will attest to. Generally it wouldn’t be much variation from buns and brownies, unless it was one of those “Add an egg to the packet” things – but there would be a gorgeous smell radiating through the house and a table full of goodies at the end of it, ready to be distributed to whoever would take it – while I was a stress baker, I wasn’t much of a stress eater. Much. I knew that demolishing the cakes was a bad idea. (more…)
Today was one of those days. I’m off work on Mondays at the moment, which is nice, as I get to do productive things on my time off, things are open and there can be all of the window shopping. Also, places aren’t as packed as they are at other points during the week so its easier to get around. Today started off as one of those perfect days. As perfect as it can get when it starts at 6am, anyway. (more…)
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. (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. (more…)
I’ve written before about how fantastic I’ve found online parenting groups in helping me to muddle my way through the early days of raising my little boy. I’ve found them to be incredible sources of wisdom about the little things and places where I can gripe about how many times he was up last night and not get “Well, you knew what you were signing up for”. There have been many days where I’ve read blogs written by fellow Irish Parenting Bloggers when they’ve expressed their frustration or written about their days of everything going wrong and I’ve laughed hysterically or cried along with them, thanking every god out there that it isn’t just me, it isn’t my child and I’m not a bad Mammy because it is happening to other people.