So motherhood happened. Not once but three times. Yet despite my experience I really don’t feel like a mother nor do I feel like a grown up. It’s like a poster I saw on Facebook. I think they call them memes or something even though I have no idea what that means or how to pronounce it. When a crisis occurs and you look for someone more adulty than you. Woah there Nelly. I’m the adult. Well I must have missed that memo.
My son told me I was just a kid cause I still had a Mammy and Daddy. And yes he used the word kid. Because, yes he watches too much American television. He even asked me for candy one day. I was like I’ll candy stripe your arse for you and attempted to get him to watch Fraggle Rock on tg4. That’ll snap any Yankee notions out of ya boyo. By his estimation I’m not an adult and I’m beginning to think he’s wise beyond his years. Read more…
You have your hands full
These words are directed to me at least once a day. I get it. Three children is a lot. The fact that I’m no longer with their Dad probably makes it seem like more. I don’t do as much as I should from a motherly perspective but between the jigs and the reels life is fairly busy. When they go to their father’s I really do enjoy the peace. The doing nothing way of life suits me down to a tee ( or is it tea ??). In the midst of one of these marathon nothing sessions in which I relish a post that often pops up in my newsfeed reared it’s head again.
The post was a heart felt plea from Cara Rescue Dogs for foster homes for puppies in their care. Now I’m not overly mad about animals and I’m not overly mad about the number 1 and number 2 that comes from said animals. I’m not overly mad on the smell of dog hair, dog breathe or dog farts. That being said my fingers started moving and I was texting and I was having some sort of a turn because the next thing I knew I was going to be considered as a foster parent for two very small puppies.
How the hell did that happen!!!
Sunday afternoon at 5pm after a home check was completed I became the rather petrified carer of two teeny balls of fluff. One brown and white the other black and white. Cara provides everything you need to take care of the pups for how ever long they are with you. All you have to do is love them. Well feeding and watering them wouldn’t go a miss either but you know what I mean.
The best part is the children had no clue and when they arrived home at 6pm tired and hungry after a busy weekend I was gonna reveal two puppies. Sure what could go wrong?
Two minutes after my grand reveal all hell broke loose someon wet themselves there was whimpering and begging and that was just the children ( that joke never gets old). The two boys didn’t end up in bed until ten. Yes, Monday morning was torture.
Once everyone calmed and settled in the lovely part of the experience began. I have never heard the children laugh so much. The TV has hardly been on in days and the house has never been as clean. I’m really enjoying having the dogs as my guests.
Our little fur babies are called Flake and Krispy kindly named by Karla at Cara. My children keep calling her Caramel so Aunty Caramel gave us our dogs to mind. I have explained to them that the dogs won’t be staying and I am fully aware that they will be upset but I’m hoping they will see the good that we are doing. Let’s face it they get upset when I give them the wrong the wrong coloured bowl for breakfast so I’m prepared for the hysteria.
I suppose the purpose of fostering for me is to see if I’m willing to put the work in that is needed to care for a dog. I don’t want to be the type that takes on an animal and realise that it doesn’t fit in with my lifestyle or my children especially. That’s one of the reasons why Cara are kept so busy. People think it’s all cuddles and sleeping. It’s far from it. I can tell you one thing though it’s very rewarding. I’m teaching my children about giving back in this world. Doing what you can when you can. How to care for something other than yourself. Also how important it is to respect other living things. I’m hoping this will be something that I can do regularly.
Cara Rescue Dogs Facebook page is <<<<< there if you click on the link. You’ll find everything you need to know all the contact details. If you feel like taking on a dog is not for you there are loads of ways to donate. You’ll feel great and you’ll make some dog’s day. I would like to just say that it’s a completely vouluntary orgainsation run by people with full time jobs and familys and lives of their own so if you have more than you need build a bigger table… not a higher fence.
If you have read other posts you will be aware of my battle with the bulge. Without trying to sound dramatic, that wouldn’t be like me at all, I liken it to a serious addiction. Food is my drug of choice and I don’t know how to become rehabilitated. I literally flip flop from wanting to loose weight and swearing to make a massive effort to throwing in the towel and accepting that I’ll never be slim. That switch could happen at least four times an hour. Every time professing to anyone that will listen…. this time will be different…..and it never is.
Writing this tonight I’m in binge mode and weight loss is the furthest thing from my mind I’m having a fat food Friday and I’m loving every minute of it. Until tomorrow when I try on my jeans and I’m like 7 pounds of rice shoved into a 5 pound bag. (I think the correct phrase is 7 pound of shit but you know… I didn’t want to be vulgar). Read more…
There’s not a mother alive in this modern age that hasn’t shared her birth story with her nearest and dearest. In fact I’m pretty sure a lot of us have shared it with complete strangers from time to time. These stories are our right’s of passage into motherhood and we recite them like the folklore of Irish history. I know I tend to flesh mine out and I could give the Children of Lir a run for their money.
I will tell each birth story in turn but I’m going to start with my most recent birth just because I can remember it with greater ease. I can say with conviction that I am finished having children so I can reminisce fondly, safe in the knowledge that I will never have to go through it again.
This time two years ago I was waiting patiently for the birth of my third child. Having split with my partner I had to return home to my mother and it was a stressful time to say the least. Moving back home is hard regardless of the circumstances but I arrived not only with sacks of clothes but with two young boys and a bun in the oven (a pink bun by the way but ssssssshhhhhhh you’ll ruin the end of the story). Not ones to dwell on the negative we just got on with things and tried to look forward to the new arrival as best we could. Read more…
We have many firsts as parents, first time to change a nappy, first time to be puked on, first time shopping for school uniforms…. the list is as long as it is varied. Well today I had a first. I probably won’t forget it in a hurry but not for the same warm fuzzy feelings that other ‘first’ memories bring to that corner of my tummy. Today I had my first, I suppose the only word for it is, altercation, with a fellow parent over one of my children.
A knock came to the door and I was greeted with a very irate man wanting to know why his daughter was upset over something that I had said to her. Yes me! Not my son but me, a grown middle-aged woman had upset a young child. Not one of my finer moments I can admit without hesitation.
Now I’m not going to go into the nitty-gritty of the conversation because I would be extremely tempted to fill in my part of the conversation with many phrases and quick-witted remarks that I wish I had said, as opposed to what actually occurred. I will expect plenty of private mails looking for the finer details. What I will say is that I did speak to the children and tell them to play nicely with one another and asked them not to exclude my son.
In hindsight maybe having words with other people’s children is not a great idea…. lesson learned. This upset the child and in turn upset her father and a conversation followed where we both defended our own as you do and parted agreeing to speak to the children about their behaviours towards each other.
Of course for the rest of the evening my mind was flooded with thoughts of what had happened. My role in the events and my son’s role and how could I have behaved better and how do I help him improve his behavior towards others?
Do I stand by my son and defend him to the death….
My child would never do such a thing!
When I see a parent approaching my door do I turn my head and automatically assume his guilt regardless of the circumstances?
What did you do?
It’s one of the first times in a long time that I really felt like a single parent. I had no one to bounce the situation off of. No one to help me rationalise. No one to debrief after the big scary man came up and gave out to me. No one to have my back. No one to calm me when I swore blind that the children would never see the light of day again and no one to hug me when I felt extremely vulnerable.
The conclusion I came to was that I couldn’t come to a conclusion. I couldn’t wrap this up in a little bow and tidy it away. I realised that I don’t want to be a naive parent and pretend that I don’t think that my child is capable of being mean to others. Of course he is. Along with every other child on the planet. They are all horrible to one another at some stage. I also feel like I want to defend him to the death because he’s my cub and I’m a mama bear and if I won’t defend him who will?
I did learn that I won’t be talking to other children about their behaviors. It’s a modern approach to parenting because in my childhood days if any adult spoke to you, you did what you were told and if you complained to your mother you were told where to go. I’m not sure that it’s a great parenting development but it’s here and it’s not going anywhere. I’m also going to shift my focus. I can’t control how other people treat my son but I can help shape how he responds.
I’m off to have a vodka because this scummy mummy has had enough for one day. Can’t say I’m looking forward to the summer. I may pull the curtains and pretend I’m not here!
I’ve only just recently overcome the fear of bringing my wee family places by myself. All too often I have recruited family and friends with the inner feeling that I just couldn’t cope alone. Well this day I decided I was bringing my brood up the the big smoke to Imaginosity, the children’s museum in Sandyford. I will confess I was meeting a friend up there but that was more for a catch up then the support that I had grown to crave.
Preparations always begin the night before you are going anywhere. I had gathered the clothes that I wanted them to wear and placed them in neat piles on our snack table. Our snack table is a breakfast counter but my boys could not understand the concept so we rechristened it the snack table much to their delight. They seem to be the only ones who have a snack table in their house….. course you are boys because it’s a totally made up thing!!!!!
I packed a change of clothes for each child. I did only pack one change of underwear and socks between the boys because like seriously what are the chances that both of them would get destroyed all the way down to their underwear. As that thought popped into my head I already felt like I was tempting fate. Then I thought feck it…. first one to get wrecked gets the underwear…… number two will be going commando! A few snacks in the bag and I was ready to rock.
Up and at it early I put on the face while the lads ate their breakfast. All bustled into the dinky and hit the minty highway. I was driving like the stig in a dress and totally loving life. I somehow managed to overestimate how long it takes to get to Dublin these days. We were booked into Imaginosity for 11:30 and I’m sat in the car park at 10:10. Never fear nothing a bag of jellys and Justin Beiber on the radio couldn’t solve.
We scrambled out of the car and made our way to reception where we signed in and got our stamp on our hands. The place was choc a block full of small children who didn’t really know what was going on. The staff made an announcement of all the little rules and no one listened. And no I’m not talking about just the children. There was one woman who spoke on her mobile the whole way through it. I had to have a word with myself to calm as I had visions of myself grabbing her phone and flinging it out the door.
Our session began and we made our way up the stairs and a world of chaos unfolded in front of my eyes. I hadn’t put Macy down when the boys were gone no where to be seen. Every corner had something to discover and explore. A supermarket and post office, a diner and a bed to play doctors and nurses. Another floor filled with a mock news room and stage equiped with costumes and lights. Science mixed with play mixed with education.
Although the session was sold out I can’t say that it felt packed. There was so much to see and do that children moved on regularly to allow the next child their turn. The wonderful part was seeing parents role playing with their kids in the supermarket and a Dad operating the lights on the stage for his daughters production. It brought out the child in the adults too.
The session lasted two hours and mine were just about getting hungry and looking to go as it drew to an end. This was of course after my son went down the stairs and helped himself to a toy out of the toy shop. I said to him…..
‘you cannot steal a toy….you have a brother and sister…. you have to steal three!!!!!
What actually happened was a very sheepish apology to a staff member who was very understanding. Thank the lord. We headed back to the car and all the lads wanted was good aul McDonald’s. Onto google and we found the nearest one and they devoured every morsel they were starvin marvin. Loaded back into the dinky and they all snored the whole way home while I murdered Adele songs while making up my own words.
I really enjoyed the day. There was no fighting no tears and it all went smoothly. I think the big bonus of Imaginosity was how safe it felt. Bringing three anywhere is daunting but it felt very secure. We will be looking forward to our next adventure.. And I might ever tell ye all about it.
Although I am a stay at home mother every year at Christmas I am fortunate enough to get work in the local Ice Rink. Every year the owners recognise the skills that I have and implore me to become a vital part of a vibrant team of young ambitious workers. There’s that and the fact that the owners are my aunt and uncle!! Either way I love being a part of the work force even for such a short time.
Serving the public is not for the faint of heart. The vast majority of people are kind and courteous, wait their turn and are grateful for anything that you can do for them. Then there are the others……
A great source of amusement at the box office was the numerous people who would attempt to get a ticket at a reduced rate. 12 and over is a adult ticket so therefore logic would dictate you had to be 11 to get the more appealing price for a child. Men at least 6 foot tall with a mustache would plead innocence when challenged about their age. You gotta love a trier.
Standing in the skate dock one afternoon a lady on the ice grabbed my attention. She sat her child over the barrier and said to me without a smile on her face said. ‘Is he supposed to have skates on him?’ It took me a minute to actually understand the situation. She had come to a rink, paid €13 to bring her child out on the ice and somehow thought that he did not have to put ice skates on to go ice skating on ice. My jaw still drops when I think about that one.
Working behind the shop could be full of fun. Once such phenomenon is the six giggling teens who all want a diet coke and a bar. Here’s the catch… they all stand behind one another and order individually… the…. exact….same….thing. No chance of…. Oh while you are over there all five of us want drinks. Nope. They would rather see my little legs work like a flintstone outcast over and back and over and back. On the plus side it was great exercise.
Well it’s all said and done for another year and I feel lucky to have been a part of the team. It gave me an outlet from the children and also made me feel very lucky to be able to stay at home and watch them grow. See you all for the next big freeze!!!
It’s been so long since I wrote I think I forget how to do it. So you’ll have to bear with me until I get back into my groove.
I’m just dropping a quick post to assure you that I’m not gone anywhere. I was working over the holidays so I was a bit preoccupied but I’m gonna do my best to get two posts out a week. One about babies and one about my belly…… what belly I hear you cry?
Yes one would have imagined that I would be reporting stellar weight loss since I announced to the world my intentions but it is not the case. I haven’t lost but I haven’t gained. So that’s a teeny victory in my eyes for the time of year that’s in it.
I’m feeling very positive about life at the moment. I’m enjoying my daily work and I’m looking forward to the exercise I’m planning and the challenges that it will bring.
I’ve just finished watching the first Operation Transformation shows and I’m going to follow Clare like I have mentioned before. So tomorrow is Day One.
Wish me luck!
Before I go I want to share with you the best New Years Eve that I have ever had. Myself and the kids headed up to the Ice Rink in Kilkenny. Suitably named Kilkenny on Ice…..(also happens to be where I was working over the festive period…. will share some funny stories in a future post). As always we were spoiled rotten up there. Treated like royalty.
From there onto the golden arches to stuff our faces. I ate everything that the kids left. What? It was Christmas!!!
Then home where their Dad came to visit and while they played I made a cheesecake with help from time to time. Mainly when the bowl had to be licked!
Netflix had a fake countdown so I convinced the kids that it was midnight. We sat on the floor with a drink and munchies and I asked the kids what the best thing about this year was. All I wanted was some profound answer to spring from their lips. Something like cuddling with you Mammy or when you brought us to the woods Mammy….. well ….. the answer was a little more superficial than that. They both said the best part of the year was when Santy came. (sigh!) Not to worry. I told them the best part of my year was getting our lovely home.
Then my eyes leaked as I watched them count from 10 to 1 and cry happy new year. I have never felt more content in my whole life watching my Sun, Moon and Stars at our little party. It definitely beats pushing your boobs onto a bar to try and get served a small drink in a plastic cup. Not that I’ve ever done that… sorry Mammy.
I think I have started a little tradition and I love it.
Happy New Year