Those Friday Feels

It’s Friday night, you know the the feels, 
The weekend stretches out, 
It’s time to relax, kick off our shoes, 
And “FREEDOM ” we can shout, 
From all stresses of the week,
The things that drive us crazy,
The work and traffic and school runs,
There’s no time to be lazy,
Tomorrow’s not a working day,
No hectic morning to dread,
Cos Friday evening is our time
Once the kids have gone to bed
So what to do, and how to chill
Is what we now must ponder,
Sweet or fruity, red or white
Of which type am I fonder?
Then pour a glass and settle down,
Remote in hand securely,
Peppa banished for another day,
And grown-up programmes purely,
It’s Friday evening and we own it
Relaxed, no we’re not boring,
At 9 O’clock, I’m wine in hand
By ten you’ll hear me snoring 😴

It’s nearly that time again….

Two days to go before the old routine returns.  I’m still in a place that fits the Fianna Fail slogan of yesteryear –  “a lot done, more to do”. Half the books are covered, most of the twistables have been painstakingly, individually labelled (for all the difference it will make) and I know where the majority of the uniforms are.  All I need now, is the motivation to finish the job in hand.

I always quite enjoy the first day back at school.  The children aren’t quite as  resistant as they will be a week later. There’s a nice buzz around the school yard as parents and kids alike catch up with each other after the long summer break and “new school year” resolutions are made. There’s a definite Pollyanna feel to the whole day.

I will admit that the house will seem quieter when I return from the drop, especially this year as child number six, my resident foghorn, starts Montessori. Child number seven, no doubt will be confused for a while, when there are no brothers or sister to play with. I, in the meantime, will surely find it strange to look out my kitchen window without seeing Captain America, from the corner of my eye , run by without any trousers on, followed in hot pursuit by Spiderman, identifiable only by his calls of “I’ll shoot him with web” as Spiderman, in this house, often prefers to go completely au naturel.

It will be an adjustment for a while and I will definitely miss them.  Not having to resolve a hundred arguments a day will help ease the pain. My neighbours will doubt miss hearing my gentle tones, ones they have become very familiar with over the course of the Summer, as I lovingly called to Spiderman to stop bouncing on the trampoline and come inside immediately to put on some clothes.

All good things must come to an end and so Summer 2016, I bid you adieu. It’s back to early starts, homework, school lunches and after school activities.  What doesn’t kill us, makes us stronger, the saying goes. I wonder does that apply to school projects too……

Escape from Buggy-traz….

I can usually be seen huffing and puffing, pushing my big red double buggy which accommodates my two youngest children, most weekdays, as I head down to the school to collect my junior infant.

Yesterday my mam timed a visit perfectly with collection time, so I decided to leave my baby with her while I went to pick up my son. My two year old asked if he could come along and decided he wanted to walk. I thought it might be a good idea to give him a little practice at it, as I’m hoping to move him to a buggy board type thing soon.  The whole excursion reminded me why I usually restrain him!


To somewhat very loosely paraphrase Daddy Pig in his consideration of muddy puddles, “to be at one with a two year old who is free, one must think like a two year old who is free”!

1.   Two year olds are fast, very fast.  Within a micro second of having walked out the front door he was off, insisting there was no need to hold my hand because he was a big boy and there were no cars coming.  I ran most of the way to school in a sideways crab like fashion trying to near pin him alongside the wall while dodging parents and little girls on their scooters who had just left school.

2.   Two year olds are like magpies, well mine is anyway…except things don’t need to be shiny.  All manner of things can grab his attention.  One minute he was belting along the path on the way to collect his brother, the next minute he spotted dog poo, then a worm, then a paw patrol scooter.  The first two he stopped to examine, the last one made him turn in the opposite
direction and run after the child on it!

3.  Two year olds are at the perfect height for parked car wing mirrors and older kids school bags. Both of which he managed to run into on his journey.

4.  Two year olds have an uncanny ability to choose the place of maximum potential audience for a meltdown.  After his collision with the second school bag of a dancing junior infant girl (their school finishes five minutes before my son’s school and is located directly beside it) and my insistence that he was holding my hand the rest of the way, I could sense one building. I started to wonder how many people around actually realised he was mine and, if it all kicked off, could I stand on the periphery with folded arms (once he was safely within the confines of the school playground of course) and pretend to look around for his mother.  Thankfully the crisis was averted -  he spotted a crow.

5.  Two year olds see. Two year olds want. Two year olds go and get. When we arrived at the school he spotted his big brother waiting in his line.  Normally the teacher allows the boys to go to the person collecting them one by one as she spots them.  My two year old bulldozed through the crowd of waiting parents and launched himself at his brother. Quickest pick up ever!


We ran the whole way home


Morning Chaos!

The mornings never quite go as I’d like, or hope.  While I have visions of six children and a baby in his highchair sitting around the breakfast table laughing gaily as they eat breakfast in a relaxed and cheery fashion the reality falls very short of this.  It takes five or six attempts to gently rouse my children from their deep slumber every school morning, the sort of deep slumber that never seems to occur at the weekend, before the fishwife in me leaps out and starts roarin, “GET UP NOW OR YOU’RE GOING TO BE LATE!” We’re not off to a good start.

As the kids trundle down the stairs some more happily than others, there is shoving and shouts of “leave me alone” and “maaaaaaam he’s annoying me!” Meanwhile I’m rushing around the kitchen calling random children’s names to come and collect their cereal toast and juice.  My ever independent two year old insists “I do it mineself”. I can see what’s going to happen but I can’t stop it….

I mop up the orange juice as quickly as I can before he takes notions of “jumping up and down in muddy puddles” and move quickly to console my snot filled nose bubble blowing baby boy who is grizzling miserably in his high chair. Like his father, he is not a great patient! Next I move on to trying to cajole the troops up the stairs to clean their teeth before they head to school.

It is quite incredible the amount of distractions that can be encountered en route to the bathroom.  Several more fish wife impressions later they’re down the stairs and almost ready to leave the house.

My final morning battle begins and a disagreement ensues as to whether or not a coat is necessary.  My insistence it’s freezing is shot down as ridiculous, but, as I am mammy, they have to do what they’re told.  To the tune of “hurry, hurry hurry” most of the kids put on their coats and get ready to head out the door.  In scenes reminiscent of Home Alone 2 I do a head count and realise there’s someone missing.  It’s the curly haired one.  I turn around to find him coatless, standing about three feet away from the coat rack , holding his hand out.  “Why are you not wearing your coat” I say, in a less than calm fashion. “I’m getting it” he replies, “I’m just using the
force”. I look at him for a few minutes incredulously…….…….before I burst out laughing.  Ah well, at least the tension is gone and tomorrow is Friday!