Mum of seven, living the hectic, crazy and never dull life!
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!
L is for love, which I never really knew the true meaning of before these little terrors came into my life.
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€
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!
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.