Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Carpe Diem


Life is good.

I know, I know... Logically, this shouldn't be so. After all, if you look at the facts, i.e my husband's just lost his job and we have no idea when or where he will next find work, I should be feeling a little more tense, a little more worried...

But I'm not.

I love having him at home. I love spending time together as a family. I love knowing that when things get rough (as they tend to do regularly when you have small ones) that there's an extra set of hands ready and willing to chip in.

I'm enjoying my children more then ever because I'm no longer trying to do everything on my own.

I'm spending actual, quality time with my husband as opposed to simply seeing him as the relief team in the evenings and at times resenting him for not understanding how hard it is to be at home and how badly I need his help.

The girls are loving having him around all the time instead of merely for an hour or two in the evenings before bed and they're loving their new relaxed mama as well!

I know it can't last forever, but while it does, I'm going to grab onto it and squeeze for all it's worth.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

London Calling!

A trip?

A trip to LONDON?

A trip to London TRAVEL EXPENSES PAID?!?!?!?

A trip to London, travel expenses paid, with the chance of a free meal and SPA TREATMENTS?!?!?!?

Oh. My. God.

Yes dear readers, the good folk at Reebok have seen the great potential which lies within my dear sweet self and wish to whisk me away to London this weekend.

In my mind, I've already imagined the endless number of life changing scenarios which could arise. This one is my favourite;

Scenario A: The one in which I replace Kelly Brook..

The scene: A sports field in London. Hundreds of women in Reebok Gear are milling about. I stand on my own, a cheerful smile on my face. The head of Reebok approaches me. We make small talk and then he gets to the heart of the matter...

H.O.R: Kelly Brook isn't working out.

Me: What? But that's impossible!!! WTF? How the hell did she get an arse like that without working out?!?!?!? this is SOOOOOOOOO not fair!

H.O.R: No! No no no!!!! Of course she works out! Never leaves the gym in fact, except to do our ads! It isn't humanly possible to look like her and still have a life! What I mean is that her ad campaign isn't working out!

Me: Oooooh! Okay, that makes more sense...

H.O.R: (continuing on) She's just too damn perfect! It isn't realistic, no one in their right mind could ever expect to look like her simply by wearing a new pair of trainers...

(Stops. Stares at me. Points rather rudely.)

You! What size are you?

Me: About a 12?

H.O.R: You got kids?

Me: I do. Two.

H.O.R: Stretchmarks?

Me: Oh yes! Well, a few small ones anyway...

H.O.R: That frizz in your hair, is it Natural?

Me: Unfortunately yes...

H.O.R: You eat biscuits?

Me: Of course!

H.O.R: (Ignores me, keeps on talking.) ...hmmm....bit of junk in the trunk... no real sense of style... YOU'RE HIRED!

Me: Huh?

H.O.R: You're just what we need! Someone real, someone flawed, someone with a little jiggle in her wiggle... NO ONE can look like Kelly Brook, but ANYONE could look like you! Hell, even I could look like you! Young lady, how would you like to be the new face of Reebok?

Me: Okay!

H.O.R: Excellent! sign here, your truckload of money will be delivered in the morning. Thank you for saving my company! Now, would you like to join me for a celebratory lunch on my yacht?

End Scene.

Alas, I will not be meeting the Head of Reebok in London for life changing scenario A this weekend. In fact, I will be nowhere near London this weekend.

No London.

No free Travel.

No free meal.

No complimentary spa treatments.

Why, you ask?

IT's simple really. Mid way through writing my hyper excited acceptance letter to the good folk at Reebok, I remembered something.

My passport expired three months ago.

This alone was not enough to stop me and I immediately set about harassing the staff at the Canadian Embassy who were extremely accomodating and agreed that yes, a free trip to London was indeed a valid reason to get a temporary passport.

Unfortunately, this would involve an overnight trip to Dublin complete with hotel, passport costs, fuel costs, food, etc...

Not even I could justify this one.

Oh well! at least it's a kick to get my passport sorted!

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

A wee update...

You may be wondering where I've been lately.

The truth of the matter is, a lot of things have been happening in my life recently and for the last week or so, I've had to practice the ancient art of whatever the hell the opposite of multi tasking is or risk having my head explode into a thousand tiny pieces.

For starters, the recession over here in Ireland finally hit home as the funding dried up for the research project my husband was working on and we found ourselves joining the almost half a million Irish men and women who are currently unemployed.

Obviously, the situation is far from ideal, but we're making the best of it and have decided to look on the bright side and appreciate the extra time we can now spend together as a family. The girls are loving having their daddy around all the time and I've become very quickly accustomed to having an extra set of hands at my beck and call!

We've also grabbed the oppurtunity of having the both of us around to tackle the momentous occasion that is; THE TOILET TRAINING OF THE SNOT QUEEN!!!!!

Yup! That's right! After 2 years, 5 months and several thousand nappy changes, the time has come.

We tried it a few months back and she just wasn't ready, so we temporarily shelved it until about a month back when she started not only telling us when she was pooing, but taking it out of her nappy and showing us as well. After two weeks of chasing a poo covered toddler around the house and disinfecting our downstairs too many times to count... we finally put our game faces on and set to the task at hand.

Armed with a white board, a sticker chart, several different potties, toilet seat adapters and the tiniest knickers known to man, we got down to business and I have to say, it hasn't been nearly as scary as I thought it would be!

Sure we've had a few accidents along the way and sure not all of them have been in our house (at this time I would like to apologise to our neighbors for the “present” left to them on their walkway, the other one on their kitchen floor and the tiny one on their lovely white chair cushions in their kitchen... I understand completely if we do not recieve a Christmas card from you this year.) but over all, she's doing great, and it's actually kind of fun to really let loose and celebrate something several times a day... even if it is just a potty full of pee.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Happy Birthday Baby

At this moment last year, I was on my knees in the room off the kitchen, howling like a woman possessed. I was, as the midwife had instructed me, screaming the baby out.

It was a very different birth to that of your sister.

For starters, it was at home. There were no wires connecting me to machines, no tubes of artificial hormones and antibiotics steadily drip, drip, dripping into my arm.

There was no midwife I'd never met before laughing at my desire for a natural birth or bullying me into making choices based on fear and exhaustion.

There was no epidural, no missing the force that drove through me like a train, letting me know that my baby wanted out and she wanted out NOW!

There was no efficient squeak of rubber soled shoes signalling the arrival of yet another random stranger popping in to check on things.

There was simply me, your daddy and our midwife, the same midwife who had visited me for the last nine months and who knew me and my history and my wishes (within reason) for this birth. Your sister was hanging out in the sitting room with nanny and grandad.

With each contraction, your father pressed the hot water bottle deep into the base of my spine as I focussed on the pain that was bringing you closer to this world.

I lost track of time and space, and then, at the very end, lost control of myself as you took matters into your own hands and emerged red and screaming. Mouth open, arms flailing.

I remember your daddy crying, "We have another daughter," as I leaned against the side of the bed, exhausted and shocked by what had just occured.

I won't lie. It hurt like hell and I was more then a little stunned by the force of it all. I stayed there for a moment or so, breathing deeply, wondering if I'd ever have the strength to climb onto the bed and hold you.

And then they handed you to me and I forgot about everything else as I stared at you, this wonderful little person I'd shared the last nine months with but had never actually met.

It was love at first sight.

I remember the feel of your little mouth as you latched on for the first time and the way your body curled into mine.

I remember our first night together, my arms wrapped around you as we slept, exhausted after what we'd been through together.

And now, a year has passed.

I don't know where the time has gone or how the tiny baby from that night became the big, strong girl who is sleeping in our bedroom upstairs.

You amaze me.

Happy Birthday Little One.

I love you so much.

Love mama x