Motherhood

I broke a domestic goddess rule.

After a long week of rushing and running I love walking in the door to the fresh smell of a clean house, the hall tiles mopped and welcoming, the carpets hoovered, everything tidied and clean.

I walk straight into the kitchen and pop the shopping on the lovely clean counter. I stroll around the house peeping in every room, not inspecting, admiring. I smile at the shiny bathroom, the bedrooms at their finest and spot the little lady’s blanket all neatly folded. I am in love with our cleaner and I am indebted to her. (more…)

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Jumping in the deep end, in the shallow end.

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I paid my 5 year old one Kinder Egg and one packet of Match Attax to get her into her swimsuit and sit by the edge of the pool with her toes in the water.

What followed was a heartbreaking, sad, red face staring at me from the other side of the pool with big, huge, pleading eyes. Is it right or wrong to put a young child through such angst? Was it right to put myself through such angst?

As I sat through the swimming lesson I had a moment of doubt. Was I being a pushy parent? Was I ‘making’ her do something she clearly didn’t want to do? Or was I being a good parent by not giving in but being understanding of her anxieties and gently encouraging her, despite the fact she was vividly upset. (more…)

“The Hour” – My Top Tips

From when the school empties out, the cars drive away and then the chaos returns to the gates a short while later, what do mums do during that that mysterious hour between the school pick ups? images

A daily discussion between mums who have child(ren) in the infant classes and other child(ren) in the rest of the school is “what do you do for the hour?’ The infamous hour! For most this hour between pick ups can be a chance to do a shop or some chores but for anyone who does not live next door to the school it can be a real pain in the neck. (more…)

Living the old me the new way.

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The other night I danced and laughed late into the night like I hadn’t a care in the world. I was a touch rough around the edges the following day but it was worth it. I felt great. 6 months previously I had taken a call from an old colleague asking me to come back to work on a big job with her. (more…)

Working Full-time – My Top 5 Guilts & Pleasures

UnknownMother’s guilt is an age old topic whether you are at Stay at Home Mum, who doesn’t do enough arts & crafts, a Full Time Working Mum who doesn’t get to see her children enough, or a mum who is somewhere in between.  I have now been both those mums and a mum working from home. No one role is harder or easier. Mother’s guilt is mother’s guilt.
Recently returning back to work full-time, and with longer than normal, working hours, I suffered huge guilt. I was torn between getting an au pair, a child minder or paying the extra and putting them in creche. I decided to go with creche.
Every day I thank the girls in the creche for minding my monkeys and every day I am so thankful that they are happy there. One less stress in the day. Despite being very happy to go back to work, the guilt still pops up from time to time.
For every negative there is always a positive. Here are my top 5 guilts and pleasures of working fulltime.
Top Guilts (in no particular order)
1. Waking the monkeys up at stupid o’clock on their summer holidays because they have to go to crèche. Their little tired faces think I am so mean waking them up. Breaks my heart every day.
2. The wee man can’t go to his Wednesday football, which he loved so much. Every week he asks me not to go to work so he can go. It kills me to say “I can’t. I have to go to work”.
3. The monkeys are, at the ages of 5 and 6, already caught on the repetitive roller coaster of the weekly routine. The little man even said this morning “I don’t want to go to creche, I just want to go back to Saturday”. Gulp!
4. They are always tired. Tired in the morning and worse, tired in the evenings. One little lady goes to bed overtired a few days every week, which means she falls asleep in the car on the way home or it is tantrum city until she falls asleep crying.
5. Out of the 12 hours of their day that we are apart I only hear a tiny amount of it. All of a sudden the little man is writing little paragraphs and reading on his own. The little lady can add numbers in double figures and can tie her hair in a bobbin and it wasn’t her mum who taught her how.
To be totally honest though, as much as I miss the monkeys, I do love going to work…
Top Pleasures (in no particular order!)
1.. Money money money. Money money money.
2. The time I spend with the monkeys is quality time. We do arts and crafts, baking, play football, make looms. I appreciate their company but more importantly they appreciate me.
3. My voice: I do not sound like a fish wife every few minutes. When I speak I do not have to repeat what I am saying 15 times. I do not ask my colleagues repeatedly to “put on their shoes” and make sure they have cleaned their teeth. When I call a colleague by their name, they do not pretend they cannot hear me. (Perhaps this is “Pleasure No 1!!).
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4. The monkeys run down the path to greet me when I come home from work or when I collect them from creche. Hubby doesn’t quite run down the path but he values the pressures of juggling children, housework, dinners, work and as a result we have become a great team.
5. My evenings are officially down time. No longer working at home in the evenings means my evenings are a time to play with the kids and catch up with the hubby. I am not rushing them to bed so I can go and work. I can be more relaxed and spend the extra time cuddling and chatting. That is the best time to chat to the little man.
Feel free to add your own guilts and pleasures to the list…

Reality Bites…

It has been images-29a crazy few weeks and as a result I fell off the blog wagon. With my project for college submitted and a clean’er’ in tray, it is time to embrace my blog again and finally, this morning I fought the fear and went back to my TRX classes.

Having broken my little toe before Christmas (to the delight and amusement of my kids and husband) I haven’t been able to go and I have missed them.

I would like to pretend I am a keep fit guru, sleek, fit, sexy in my lyrca and beautiful sweaty. (Yup, that thought feels good.) The reality is I have convinced myself I am as fit and as slim as I was when I was 16, when I swam competitively and had not a pinch of fat.

Moving twenty years later I recently caught sight of myself in a bikini and well…..reality bites! It bit off the rest of my ‘post baby approaching 40’ self esteem and enough was enough.

I dipped my toe into jogging last year and I did the mini marathon. I was so proud of myself I hung up my runners for the year!!  I knew starting the classes I wasn’t unfit but this time it was more about addressing the butt, butt, bingo wings, butt, butt, belly. I needed to get my thumb out and sort out the wobbly wonder my body had become. I signed up for TRX and caught the bug.

A month off the classes with a pathetic excuse of a broken toe was a void and even though I missed going to my classes, it was still hard to get back into it… but now I’m back I am here to stay. It’s my precious ‘me’ time. It’s fun and I am finally seeing the difference.

Next time I decide to fly kick the coffee table on my way to running to the couch to wrestle the kids, the kids have full permission to put me on the naughty step.

‘No running in the house! No jumping on the couch!’