Always friends

I have been bitten by the baby. 
Bitten hard. 
Yes, bitten there. 

I am tired, and fairly hungry. My self-control is the first casualty of this state. Involuntarily, I shout 'OW!'

Startled, his face falls and he sobs. Proper, heart-rending sobs. Naturally, I cuddle and soothe him and he seems calm. 

Pushing himself up, he plants a kiss on my face, then leans back as if to survey my reaction. He stays there, half-smile in place and eyebrows raised quizzically, watching my still-furrowed brow. 

I'm powerless. I smile back at this cheeky creature and his face breaks Into a proper smile. Delightedly, he claps twice and then throws himself into my embrace. Satisfied that we are friends again, he settles himself and is asleep in seconds. Satisfied that we are friends again, I settle myself in for a snoozy cuddle. I'm still smiling.

Book review: The Snatchabook

‘In every house, in every bed

A bedtime book is being read’

There. They’ve won me over already.
Yes, I know that sadly not every child gets bedtime stories, but for the ones who do this is a great affirmation of the comforting bedtime routine. The Snatchabook, by Helen Docherty is a beautifully rhythmical book whose poetry seems to flow gently from page to page. The author’s use of asides - 'Long hours passed without a peep (She'd nearly fallen fast asleep!)' - to deal with trickier words for rhyming is observably smart to an adult, but to the wide-eyed child it just adds to the narrator’s charm and gives a sense of them being let in on a secret.

Now for the bad news. As you may have guessed from the title, The Snatchabook is a story in which books are snatched. Gone. Vanished. The first time we read this story, I had to read it quite fast in order to get to a point that would reassure my indignant children that no such fate would befall their books! But fear not dear reader, without giving too much away, I will tell you that no creature in Burrow Down is left without a book to treasure.

I think that I would love this story if it were merely scrawled on a dog-eared A4 sheet and shoved through the letterbox. But oh my, that is far from the case.

The illustrations are stunning, with richly detailed double page spreads just screaming to be framed and put on the playroom wall. ThomasDocherty brings to life the inimitable Eliza Brown, the titular Snatchabook and the cosy, magical Burrow Down with apparent ease.

This is one of those books that really is a true gift, and since having received it ourselves (Thanks Aunt Claire!) I have bought a copy or two to give to other happy children.

We are very much looking forward to the author’s next bedtime read!

Hitchhiker rating: 5 thumbs up 

Playing the heartstrings

It’s 6am and the house is blanketed in silent darkness. Through deep, much-needed, layers of sleep the woman’s subconscious alerts her to a disturbance. Something has changed in the blackness. She tenses, all senses searching for more information.

There! A muted sound, surely? She sits straight up in the bed, heart pounding, bleary eyes attempting to detect subtle variations in the little light available.

Oh.

‘Sweetheart, WHAT are you doing out of bed? It’s still not getting up time you know.’

Little Lady replies, ‘Well, it’s just that I love you so much, I really wanted to give you a hug and it woke me up.’

The moments of fear and disorientation fade, and what’s left is amusement and a little pride.

How does she do that? At 4 and-a-half years of age, how does she know so innately how to defuse a situation?

‘C’mere pet. One and a half hugs and then straight back to bed until getting up time, ok?’

This emotional intelligence is not new, but it surprises me every time. We’ve recently celebrated her learning to peel a banana all by herself. She sat down one morning and learned how to tie shoelaces more through stubbornness than dexterity. She and Little Man are bright kids, but she is streets ahead of him when it comes to understanding emotions – how to read them, how to soothe them, and how to take advantage of them!

The first real grasp of how clever she is in this way came about 6 months after Little One was born. When I went to tuck Little Man into bed, he asked why my belly was still so big even though there wasn’t a baby in it anymore. It was an emotional slap in the face. I thought I hid it well, explained that Mammy’s tummy needs some time to learn how to be small again and he was satisfied. With my brave face in place I went to Little Lady’s room to tuck her in to bed. She stood up, threw her arms around me and declared ‘Mammy, you are a beautiful princess and I love you!’.  I almost cried. It was the perfect thing to do, the perfect thing to say and somehow she knew it!

She’s got a real knack for cheering people up, for just throwing herself into a hug at exactly the right moment and she’s used her charms to get herself out of trouble at least once. To hear her telling a fussy Little One ‘It’s ok pet, you’re just having a tough old day, I’ll say a hug is what you need!’ is at once adorable and admirable.

I think overall, it’s moments like those that make me look at my kids with a kind of awe. We made those kids from scratch, and are so lucky to get to watch them learn and grow into fascinating people with diverse talents and quirks.

And even at 6am, I wouldn’t change a thing!

Book review: I Dare You Not To Yawn

One of our favourite things to do as a family is to read stories. The house is bursting at the seams with books for babies, toddlers, older kids, teens and anything Hubby or I might like to read. 

So, I thought I'd share some of our favourites with you. 



I Dare You Not To Yawn by Héléne Boudreau is one of our latest favourite books. 

Narrated by a small boy, the reader is immediately warned of how sneaky yawns can be - and what the disastrous results might be if you do succumb to their sneaky efforts! The descriptive passages are excellent, and the narration seems utterly authentic from the point of view of a perhaps slightly cranky but NOT at all tired little boy.

Both older kids love this book*, it's sweet and funny and a bit of a competition not to yawn the whole way through reading it. Their glee when Hubby or I start to yawn is uncontained, 'You yawned - you YAWNED! I saw you. Straight to bed you'll go!"

For adults, this book is absolutely brilliant for bedtime. Take some excitable, chattering children who look like they may not sleep for hours. Curl up somewhere cosy, read this clever book to them and watch them yawn yawn Y A A W W N N their way to sleepy town. 

Hitchhiker rating: 5 thumbs up


*To be fair, Little One likes it too. Although more for its chewiness. 

Having fun, with a little practice

Today, I spent a solid ten minutes helping Little Man to do some important practicing. He was worried about not being good enough, and he knows by now that hard work and practice are key to perfecting any art. 

What was the subject of today's practice? Why, singing. Well, sort of. 

Basically, he thought it important that he learn how to perform a song with a microphone, but still retain the ability to snap his fingers. 

Readers as silly as Mammy might suggest snapping the fingers on one hand, while holding the microphone in the other. Foolish readers! That, it seems, would be cheating. 

In order to get the practice underway, it was necessary to choose a suitable 'microphone' - and what better substitute than a cuddly sheep. Then we held talks to decide which end of the sheep to sing into, and the different reasons* why one end might be deemed a risky choice.

Finally it was time for the main event. Belting out one of our favourite songs, pausing at the end of every line to throw the sheep up in the air, snap fingers, catch and resume singing. It took some time to perfect, but thankfully we now have a new life skill under our belt! 

Sure, he likes superheroes and Skylanders, footballs and trampolines, but sometimes it's good to remember that the best toy is a healthy imagination and the chance to use it. 

*If you don't know how much fun this discussion was, I can only assume that you have never been six years old. 

A Day in the Life, one year later

Wake up. Time for milk and snuggles. Yay!

The Girl comes in and climbs into our bed too. Get a hug. I have to share the Mammy and the Daddy with her now, but she makes me laugh so it's ok.

Show everyone the sore things in my mouth. They're pointy. Get a hug.

The Mammy brings me to The Boy's bed. His eyes are closed so I poke him in the face. Yay - he's awake! Get a hug.

The Daddy gets me dressed for the day. I tell him all about my sleep. 'Dada dada DA! NNN. Ha ha ha. Buh buh buh.' Get a hug.

The Mammy puts my ears in. Get a hug.

Sit on floor and bang my drum. It goes BOOM BOOM BOOM. I like my drum.

Eat breakfast. It's yummy. I like my breakfast.

Try to eat The Boy. He laughs. Throw the ball. He catches it.

The Mammy shows me Mirror Boy. He is THE BEST. I wave at him. He waves too.

I show him my blue ball. He has a blue ball as well! I laugh. He laughs as well. That makes me laugh. That makes him laugh as well. I think Mirror Boy is my best friend.

Time for milk and snuggles. Sleepy. ZZZZzzzz

NOT sleepy anymore. Get a hug.

Eat some broccoli. I like broccoli.

Try to reach things that are up high. Empty some bags and boxes.

The Girl tells me 'Be CAREful Baby!'. Try to eat The Girl. Get a hug.

Do some crawling and find some floor dirt to eat. Yay!

I'll tell The Mammy all about it 'Mama, buh buh BUH! Da da. Nye nye nye.' The Mammy takes my floor dirt. Not yay.

Time for milk and snuggles.

Play with my drum while The Boy and The Girl sing songs. Eat a book.

Climb up The Daddy's leg. Get a hug.

Tickle time! The Daddy is very funny.

The sore things in my mouth are hurting. Chew on chair. Doesn't help. Think I'll find The Mammy for milk and snuggles.

Crawl into hallway and shout at red door. I like the red door.

Start to get sleepy. The Mammy finds my 'jamas.

Help The Mammy and The Daddy to read books to The Boy and The Girl. Try to eat The Boy and The Girl.

The Mammy puts away my ears. Time for milk and snuggles.

ZZZZZzzzzzz

My ice bucket challenge

I know it's been done.
I know you're getting bored.  

But try to remember that a worthy cause simply has its day in the sun. Motor Neuron Disease is a long-neglected, little understood disease.

For €2 and a bit of fun, you could make a difference to a patient and their family. Text MND to 50300 or donate here.

Oh, and you can laugh at me.

Back to School 2014

I don't know why parents talk about Back to School time being stressful.

All that's required is a modicum of organisation.

Those of us in possession of such basic organisational skills ordered all of the schoolbooks online, in July to avail of a 10% discount. Said schoolbooks were then delivered to the door, with covers, to await labelling and placing in schoolbags. Simple.

Uniforms have been kindly handed down by friends of ours. Tick that box!

A lunchbox, as is tradition, has been bought by Nanny for Little Lady who is terribly pleased.

So here we are, with one week left till school starts back and we're in great shape!

Except that I can't find the 'safe place' where I put Little Man's labels from last year. Ok, I guess I'll just write his name on all his books. And pencils. And jumpers. Feck.

Still, Little Lady's labelling is going very well. Schoolbag, books, lunchbag, uniforms and coat all adorned with a purple owl and her name. Great! I must put these shoe labels in her shoes. Oh. Shoes... Those'd come in handy, wouldn't they?

I suspect Little Man should also retire the flip-flops he's worn all Summer and get a pair of shoes that actually fit too. Feck.

Right, well we'll have to sort that out. For now though, I'll just double check the stationery fee listed on each kid's booklist and pop that in an envelope for the teachers. Yes, there's the list. Yep, all books ticked off as they were labelled and put into schoolbags. Hang on, what's this? At the bottom of Little Man's list:

B2 handwriting copies x 6

HB triangular pencils x 4

Project copy, 40 pages x 2

Sums copy, 20mm squares, 40 pages x 1

Well, feck.

You know what? Back to school time is a smidge stressful...

'Cool' is in the eye of the beholder

My four-year-old daughter is a thing of beauty. I do not mean her hair, or her skin, although sadly those are what she is complimented on most often.
The beauty that strikes me is her essence, it shines through in a darkened room and cannot be hidden by any mask.
She is brave, funny and ferociously loving. Her intuition and her ability to diffuse a bad mood is damned useful! She is, in her own way, utterly perfect at being who she is.

The other day I was almost - almost - too busy to remember any of this. Feeling under pressure for time, I ignored her sense of style and her utter independence, and I picked out clothes for her. She dressed while I changed the baby, and she walked in to the room with a dejected look on her face. Still thinking of getting out the door quickly, I decided to jolly her along. 'Oh wow sweetheart! You look so cool!'
And then tears filled her eyes, and my wonderful girl's voice wobbled as she informed me 'I know. But Mammy, I don't look cool to me!'

It was a moment I don't think I'll ever forget, and it reminded me that as much as I strive to teach our children something new every day, I will never stop learning new things from them either.

While we have jokingly called my Little Lady a threenager, I don't envy my kids their teens. It seems to me (perhaps through rose-tinted glasses) that the social pressures kids today are put under are much exaggerated versions of the ones we dealt with in our younger years. I have often looked at my independent, feisty girl and thought that hopefully she'll have the strength not to go along with the crowd, to think for herself and be true to her own identity. So what the hell was I doing?

I took a breath, I invited her into my arms for a cuddle, and I whispered into her velvety skin 'Ok, pop upstairs and get yourself dressed properly. We have a minute before we really have to go.'

No appointment, no schedule is important enough to squash the spirit of a small child. It took about 90 seconds for her to present herself again; adorned in rainbow-striped leggings, a polka-dot skirt and a Spiderman T-shirt. And this time, she really did look cool. If those 90 seconds help her to remember at a crucial time in her life, that the only person she needs to impress is herself, then they'll have been worth it ten times over.

The Black Dog

There is a black dog following me. He seems to have come out of nowhere. I wasn't expecting him.

There is a black dog following me. If he catches me, he will sit on my chest - heavy, and large enough to hide me even from myself. I know, because he caught me once before.

I am with the children and I see him creeping up. I tell them about the Exercise Game. We will run, and shout. We will check our pulses afterwards, and look at our rosy cheeks. The dog cannot keep pace with us, and we outrun him.

When the baby is wrapped snugly onto my chest, there is no room for the dog, and I am safe.

The dog is not strong enough to follow me in the sunshine, and I dance in its rays. But this is a land of clouds, and I must find a rainbow to carry in my pocket.

I saw him again the other day. Just around a corner. I will tell Hubby and he will help me get more sleep tonight and I can outrun the dog again tomorrow.

I think I can hear his panting breath, so we start to sing. I cannot hear him over the gleeful shouts of 'Ting, tang, Walla-walla bing bang' and I smile.

I know the dog is afraid of laughter. I tell the kids silly Knock, Knock jokes that they are too young to really understand. Obediently, they smile. In a riot of giggles, they come up with their own silly joke that I am too old to really understand, but their laughter is infectious and our tummies soon ache with joy.

There is a black dog following me. I will not let him catch me.