It’s Sunday Night, you know the drill,
It never seems, to change,
Lunches to make, ahead of school,
And uniforms to arrange,
All neatly at the end of beds,
When they’ve come through the laundry,
Except for the missing pieces of course
Therein begins the quandary,
Where could they be, the kids deny
They put them anywhere,
Except in the wash-basket of course,
And into space they stare,
“Yes definitely there, I remember it well,
Straight after we had our bathâ€
I look in disbelief at them,
Knowing generally there’s a path,
Of clothes that they leave in their wake,
All strewn across the floor,
One sock here, and a shirt over there,
Underpants hanging from the door,
A frantic search begins upstairs,
As shoes are missing too,
A white runner is under one bed,
But the one we need is blue,
Ah here it is, in the underwear drawer,
I really should have thought,
And the trousers are there, under baby’s cot,
Just a jumper now is sought,
Hurray more washing on Sunday night,
Just what every mother needs,
And fun and games to get them dry,
Visions of an early night recedes,
Yes it’s Sunday night you know the drill,
As the week ahead is beckoning,
But I won’t be able to sleep tonight,
It’s a syndrome by my reckoning!
Category: Uncategorized
The A-Z of Motherhood
Being a mum is wonderful. Yes it teaches you about a love like no other and yes it is one of life’s greatest privileges – but let’s be honest, it’s also bloody hard work. It’s all consuming, requires an element of omnipresence and the pay and holiday entitlements leave a lot to be desired!
All is changed, changed utterly – to somewhat paraphrase (and completely take out of context) a wise fella. While life might never quite be the same again, it doesn’t mean there isn’t a lot to be gained from our new found role. With that in mind, here is my own personal A-Z of motherhood.
A is for arguments. A daily occurrence about homework, putting underwear in the wash-basket, pokemon, who breathed on who, whose turn it is to pick something up off the floor and who left the top off the milk. The choice and subjects are endless and plentiful and require superbly honed and finely tuned negotiation skills. In the interest of maintaining some shred of your sanity, pick your battles – cos you can’t pick theirs!
B is for Basket, namely the wash one, virtually unrecognisable to underwear-wearing youngsters.
C is for cuts, from paper to impressive – all inducing the same levels of hysteria and convictions that the limb is unsavable
D is for dinnertime. That time of day when in theory we sit down together and have a chat but in reality mop up three glasses of milk, clean up a bowl of dinner that has just hit the floor and get called to deal with a bum that needs wiping.
E is for efficiency. It’s quite amazing how much you can achieve in a limited amount of time. From making your house semi-presentable in ten minutes flat because a visitor is on the way to scoffing as many cookies as possible because the kids’ antennae have gone up. Us mothers are masters of the apparently unachievable!
F is for forgetfulness, a new found state of mind. Why I did I go upstairs? Why am I sitting in a parked car outside my son’s Montessori on a Saturday? What are my kids’ names? Rather than feel defeated I prefer to view the latter as a descriptive vocabulary-enhancing exercise. “You with the curly hair, green eyes, girl child†etc has to suffice largely these days!
G is for goals, personal by nature and changing by the day. Monday’s goal is usually to have a good week with calm vibes and positive interactions. Friday’s goal is to get through the day without yet another banshee impression and counting down the hours to wine o’clock.
H if for hungry, which my kids always are, unless something suspiciously healthy looking is offered.
I is for infinite – the amount of patience required for the job!
J is for just about. My kids answer for everything from “Are you dressed yet†to “is your homework done?†Experience has taught me that “just about “really means, “I’m actually off doing something else other than thatâ€!
K is for our king sized bed which feels remarkably small by the time the approximately 25 children have joined us throughout the night.
L is for love, which I never really knew the true meaning of before these little terrors came into my life.
M is for mouthguards, which seem to disappear into thin air in this house and whose disappearance I’m only ever made aware of, right before a match or training.
N is for No which my children seem to interpret as “lets ask her another 50 times and she might change her mind, or failing that, lets ask dadâ€
O is for obstacles, a mere challenge to be overcome for a walking wobbler, who audibly laughs at your attempts to keep him from danger and seem to prove much more fun than his mountain of toys.
P is for poo in its many colours, forms and textures. Just part of daily life and conversations now!
Q is for quiet which should always arouse extreme suspicion.
R is for robust which thankfully kids are. Bumps, bruises and relatively minor trauma is quickly and completely forgotten by them as toys, games and cartoons take over. We on the other hand beat ourselves up for the hours, days and weeks that follow!
S is for sleep. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha ‘Nuff said
T is for the toilet, the most likely place to find missing house-keys, mobile phones, toothbrushes, teddies and breakfast waffles.
U is for unexplained and suspicious looking marks everywhere. Is it snot? Crayon? Food? and please God let that be chocolate…….
V is for vegetables, depending on the kid, considered equal to offering them poison.
W is for wipes, a mum’s best friend that can clean anything and is the 21st century’s answer to spitting on a tissue.
X is for x- ray. The more kids you have, the more time you’ll spend in this department. Have your lead apron ready!
Y is for yesterday, when it feels like they were born. Time goes so fast and when school is added to the equation and you’re living by the school timetable, it seems to go even faster – unfortunately.
Z is for zucchini which is either a fruit or a vegetable and which I’ve never eaten but my six year old told me about it.Â
The Homework Poem
T’was the first day of new term
A scene that’s well known
On the dining room table
The school books were thrown
The children were wailing
At the thought of the chore
While the parents were reminded
There’s nothing they hate more
Than the prospect of Maths
And English aplenty
Spellings “as gaeilge”
Learning how to count to twenty,
The stand-off continues
Much longer than should
As the troops battled homework
As hard as they could
A project is mentioned
A twist of the knife
In an afternoon filled
With stresses and strife
And united all parents
In their heads scream so wild
“I hate homework more now
Than when I was a child!
Unexpectedly short-lived resolutions!
2017 has arrived and the Christmas holidays have drawn to a close. While the return to some semblance of structure will be welcomed, the return to morning madness, frantic searches for missing pieces of school uniforms, lunch-making and bloody homework means that my new year’s resolution to “live in the moment†will be truly challenged this week.
Looking at the long faces of my children last week as we took down the Christmas tree and packed away the decorations, I reminded them that they have so much to look forward to this year. I spoke to them of upcoming communions and confirmations, mid term breaks and zoo trips and the not too distant return of the longer evenings which means more playtime.
It was then that I had to stop myself. So much time is spent wishing away the now, believing things will be better at this time, that time, holiday time, weekend time and not enough time is spent appreciating what we have in the here and now. “You don’t have to wait until the weekend to have fun†I reminded my children. “Most of you finish school by 2:25, the evening is your own- if you just got stuck in and got that homework out of the wayâ€.
Unconvinced by my reasonings, the usual protestations about the injustice of life and homework took place, so I persisted. I spoke to them about redirecting the daily effort that they put into complaining, into productivity. I reminded them that if they just focused they could get that homework done in a reasonable time and if they stopped killing each other mid-task they could also sort out their rooms in ten minutes.
“This year I want things to be different, we will enjoy our weekdaysâ€, I insisted ever so slightly manically.
A call came from upstairs to say that there was a half-eaten teacake and the baby’s soother in the bottom of the toilet. For good measure someone had already pee’d on it.
As I fished the offending items from the bottom of the loo another call came, this time to tell me that the dishwasher wasn’t working.
I looked at the soother and tea-cake and thought about the mountain of dishes that would need washing by virtue of the fact that Chicken Tikka Masala was on the menu for dinner tonight. I figure there are exceptions to every rule and this must be one of them. This is not a moment I want to live in. I want to fast-forward to that moment, when at some stage this week hopefully, the repair man arrives!!
An Ode to Christmas
It’s Christmas week, the countdown’s on
Til Santa’s on his way
With lots of gifts for girls and boys
All loaded on his sleigh,
The kids are filled with Christmas cheer,
Excited by the season,
While mums and dads rush everywhere,
And shopping is the reason,
For all the family and everyone’s friends,
Teachers and neighbours too,
Houses to clean and turkeys to buy
So very much to do
And panic, panic, rushing on,
Becomes the assumed position,
No lack of money or shortage of time,
Can thwart the Christmas mission,
All must be perfect in every respect,
And new traditions made,
Such pressure on all, to get it right,
Not enough attention paid,
To remember the things that matter most,
During this special time of year,
That we’re surrounded by those we love,
The people we hold dear,
No shop bought gift, or internet bargain,
A person’s place can take,
Around the table or on the couch,
And so for happiness sake,
Just take a breather, enjoy the moment
Engage in lots of niceness,
If you have good health and people to love,
Then your Christmas gifts are priceless.
When Man-Flu strikes!!!
Winter is well and truly here. Along with the usual festivities in the build up to Christmas, it has brought to this house a dose that strikes fear into the heart of any parent of boys. Man flu has arrived with a bang.
Man-flu is making its presence felt with a vengeance. Much as I love my darling sons, I’m afraid there are no warriors among them. My daughter managed to catch, just a cold – lucky her, but the boys have been struck down so badly with this cursed dose, that any attempts to encourage movement from their slumped position on the couch brings about the sort of whines and moans that are associated with this terrible, prohibitive illness.
According to the six year old, it’s my fault that he’s sneezing because I gave him peas instead of beans yesterday. I’m also responsible for his teacher having caught his sneezes because of my insistence that he bring a tissue to school – apparently the mere sight of it set her off “astishoo-ingâ€.
I’m trying not to take any of this to heart. Confusion is one of the side effects of this illness. The three year old, also suffering – and definitely not in silence, has become confused as to how the sponge ended up down the toilet. The ten year old has no idea why his dirty socks keep piling up on the floor of his bedroom, even though he DEFINITELY put them into the wash basket. The seven year old is confused as to how he has managed to come home in a pair of school shoes that are three sizes too big for him and have laces – which he can’t even tie! The twelve year old is confused as to why he must go to the school having sneezed twice at this stage and so obviously therefore, very much in the throes of it. The one year old is blowing snot bubbles from his gorgeous button nose at a very impressive rate. He’s not confused at all – he knows he’s miserable and he’s letting us know all about it.
Begone man-flu– leave my poor boys alone. I’m not sure how much more of their “suffering†my female self can endure!
Tips for taking the stress out of Christmas.
Halloween is over and whether we like it or not, the countdown to Christmas is well and truly on. The shops are decorated, Christmas adverts are all over the television, Santa lists have started and my own personal marker that Christmas is coming – I’m a Celebrity is set to return to our screens!
While certain “celebrities†are preparing to feast on kangaroo testicles and ostrich anus, those of us not renowned for reality show appearances will probably be more focused on the million and one things that have to be done ahead of December 25th – and how many types of potato are too many for Christmas day.
It may well be the season to be jolly but that doesn’t make it any less a stressful time. With that in mind I have compiled a list of 6 things that I have found help with the financial, emotional and time pressure stress of the coming weeks.
1.Make a list
Before you hit the shops, make a list of what you are looking for. It’s easy otherwise to get caught up in the frenzy and supposed offers in the various shops. With a list, you know exactly what you’re looking for, which hopefully can save you time. Without a list, there’s a huge temptation to buy lots of bargains and blow your budget on things you didn’t want or need. There’s also the danger that you’ll forget some of what you set out to buy!
2. Look out for offers
The shops are in competition mode with seemingly daily changes in offers, from 3 for 2’s, to half price gifts, to vouchers if you spend a certain amount, to the lure of Black Friday deals! Details of most of these offers can be found online and while advertising naturally actively attempts to encourage us to part with our money through the promise of “must end soon†and “while stocks last†the reality is that a lot of these offers are ongoing for a period.
Take stock of the offer, “google†around to see how it compares and make your decision then. Don’t feel the pressure to jump right in and buy something that you didn’t really want or need anyway.
Take stock of the offer, “google†around to see how it compares and make your decision then. Don’t feel the pressure to jump right in and buy something that you didn’t really want or need anyway.
3. Online saves time
Online shopping has given us, not only the opportunity to buy what we’d like from home, but to also do our research before we leave the house, if we fancy braving the shops. Many websites now let us see if the desired item is in stock in particular locations and, if such is the case, let us reserve it before we make a wasted trip. So very important as the crowd levels increase and parking becomes a nightmare!
4. Wrap as you go.
Rather than leaving all the wrapping until Christmas week, or worse still Christmas Eve, free yourself up by wrapping your purchases the day you buy them and label and bag ‘em . You’ll be grateful in the long run. Just don’t hide them too safely!!!
5. Remember Santa is on your side.
The man in red has come ever more on board in supporting parents in their choices of appropriate gifts. Santa recognises that there are different rules in different houses. It’s worth reminding your children that Santa only brings things that he knows parents allow – that goes for dwarf hamsters too!
6.Don’t sweat the small stuff.
We’re all guilty of wanting things to go a certain way and Christmas can magnify that as we attempt to recreate idyllic scenes from childhood, or create our own new “picture-perfect” ones. Life is life though, and things go wrong. Try to keep everything in perspective. It’s not the end of the world if your Christmas tree can only be decorated from two-thirds of the way up thanks to an inquisitive and destructive toddler. It’s not the end of the world if your domestic goddess skills are somewhat lacking and you have to buy rather than make your own Christmas cake and pudding. It’s not even the end of the world if your annual family Santa visit is somewhat overshadowed by your toddler’s screams of terror and the photographic evidence that you’ve paid for.
What is important is that you’re a family, spending family time together, celebrating the joys of the season and supporting each other too. While Christmas can be a magical time it can be an emotional time also, particularly if you’ve lost a loved one that year, if illness has been prevalent or if it stirs sad memories from Christmases and times past. Be kind to yourself, be kind to each other and celebrate in a way that suits you and your loved ones best.
T’was the night before midterm
T’was the night before midterm,
And all through the schools,
The walls were adorned,
With witches and ghouls,
The teachers were smiling,
At the thought of a break,
While the parents they pondered
What childcare route to take,
The children were dreaming,
Of Zombies in beds,
While visions of pumpkins,
Danced in their heads,
And Halloween planning,
Of costumes galore
With make up and masks,
Were right at the fore,
Of every child’s thoughts,
As the big day drew near
With the hope of creating,
A real sense of fear,
In every poor neighbour,
They’d encounter and meet,
When they called to their door
And said “trick or treat”,
Then return home with bags,
Filled with sweets and crisps plenty,
Try to eat them all quickly,
Until it is empty,
So the sugar filled kids,
You can picture the scene,
Won’t be sleeping that night,
Have a Happy Halloween! 🎃
Because mums are people too!
Parenthood is demanding and all consuming – we all know that. It’s a 24/7 job where the pay is love and the breaks are non existent – but the pay is love, so those of us lucky and privileged enough to have children, get on with it, grumbling sometimes, moaning others and appreciating our glass of wine all the more for it!
Time is the one thing that most of us parents feel we lack. Time with our children, time with our spouses, time for extended family, time to do the million and one other things on the list – even time to get a haircut.
We hear constantly about taking the time to look after ourselves and while most of us appreciate that happy mammy generally equals happier children, we still have a tendency not to prioritise our own needs. None of us are superhuman however, and it does eventually catch up!
Last week, a friend of mine suggested a mum’s night out on Friday. The message had barely arrived when I replied an emphatic yes and when and where and could we somehow ensure it was set in stone and that nothing short of an Act of God would result in its cancellation (it’s fair to say I don’t get out much).
Friday arrived and with all the excitement of a teenager I counted down the hours. Not even my grumpy five year old or guilt tripping ten year old (the Halloween decorations still weren’t up) could dampen my mood. The baby and the 3 year old weakened my resolve alright, when they found a tub of sudocrem that I hadn’t nailed to a surface and proceeded to smear it all over the floor, table, my planned outfit for the night, and left me with a trail of handprints on the stair carpet for good measure, but I stayed strong and took the advice of some wise Mama-tude Facebook followers who believed wine would help with the stains. They were right – two glasses and I didn’t care.
And so I set off to the restaurant to meet my friends and had a great night. We had cocktails, lovely food, and as always happens when a meeting of great minds take place – we debated some real life, significant issues. We pondered the overworked “Ms Rabbitâ€, and thought how similar she sounded to “Nanny Plumâ€. We laughed at Daddy Pig and agreed, controversial though it may be, that he is a bit of an eejit and remembered the time that he tried to hang a picture and ended up taking a piece out of the wall. We scoffed at the Wise Old Elf and his belief that “magic always leads to trouble†and thought of the time that he was stuck up Mount Everest and wished Nanny Plum had her wand then!
Talk moved swiftly on to Halloween and we discussed kids’ outfits, how in “our day†we made do with a black plastic bag and improvised in relation to things that we didn’t have. We wowed at the creativity of one mum who made a parrot costume from pieces of felt. I shared my tales of Boy George costumes (lots of plaits and too much make up) and Bosco costumes (a box and a blue metallic wig, because I didn’t have a red one). We learned that there are indeed things to be learned from the “olden days” when we realised a black sack was just what another mum needed to create the perfect witches outfit for her toddler son.
And so all too soon the evening came to an end. There were lots of laughs had, (apologies to the other diners for our lack of volume control) and tales exchanged and we left with a date scheduled to do it again in the not too distant future. We all agreed if we left a date to be decided upon, too much time would pass once again as “life†took priority.
On Saturday, with renewed vigour and recharged batteries, I took on the task of converting our home to spooky, ghoulish, (slightly terrifying for the 3 year old unfortunately) haunted house and I surrendered my claim to the “world’s worst mother titleâ€. The kids were delighted and I lived first hand the theory that happy mum really does equal happy children.
 Another weekend is drawing to a close and though there’s the usual mountain of “stuff†to be sorted, Halloween and all its excitement is just around the corner – as is another mum’s night out. So if my friends are reading remember – that night is set in stone, not to be cancelled except in the occurrence of an Act of God. My sanity depends on it – no pressure! 😉
Have a great week!
Sunday is not a weekday!
Halloween is coming so the geese aren’t getting fat quite yet but the kids are certainly getting grumpy – reason being, I still haven’t put up the Halloween decorations! Halloween is second probably only to Christmas, in terms of excitement, in this house, and the costume planning has been going on for many weeks now. At the moment it’s looking like several Spidermen will take up residence in this house on October 31st, assuming the motto “with great power comes great responsibilityâ€. Bad guys needn’t come here!
The plan originally this weekend gone was to decorate the house in a typical ghoulish and spooky manner with seasonal lights and scary doorbells thrown in for good effect. Work, birthday parties and a mountain of laundry which even by Sunday night was still of Everest proportions put paid to my best laid plans. I won’t be forgiven in a hurry!
Saturday evening it was the turn of my 5 year old to celebrate his upcoming birthday with his classmates and he shared his party with two of his friends. Once the curly haired one had got his head around the fact that he was still 5 at his 6th birthday party, he threw himself into the celebrations and had a ball with all of his buddies. It was an evening party and as the shorter evenings are drawing more rapidly in, the partygoers were very excited by their belief that they were at a party when they “should be in bedâ€. The cuteness of the little dudes was almost too much to bear.
Once I arrived home, and it was actually bedtime for the younger ones, the questions started about the Halloween decorations. “But you promised†I was told, when I had merely said “we’ll see†earlier in the week. That’s why as much as possible I try to stay off “autonod†– you never know what you could end up agreeing too.
Knowing I had a prior commitment on Sunday afternoon and that the rest of the day would undoubtedly be spent preparing for the week ahead, I tried to avoid any suggestion of the decorations going up then either. And so it came to pass that the decorations didn’t go up and I spent the day washing uniforms (and a million and one other items of clothing). The usual preparation for lunches and the search for single missing school shoes took place and I realised that Sunday has sneakily once again assumed its place as “preparation day†instead of day off.
 There is one more weekend until the mid-term officially begins and I am determined to figure out a way to reclaim some of future Sundays anyway. How – I have no idea yet, but I am intent on stopping Sunday from morphing into yet another work/school day. In the meantime I have resorted, as all good parents do, to bribery, in the shape of Halloween buns, to buy me a little time to get sorted and to beg forgiveness for my blood oath swearing promise comment of “we’ll seeâ€.
