What do you get for the person who has...nothing?!

So it's happening. Age is creeping up on us. Himself is turning the big 4-0 next month and I have no idea what to get him. What do you get for the man who has….nothing?!

Since our eldest child was born more than six years ago, pretty much everything we have has been spent on something to do with the children. I know loads of parents who are in the same boat. We rarely buy clothes for ourselves anymore and nights out or trips as a couple are a rarity. In fact, a night away without the kids has happened once over the past six years. Even Christmases and birthday presents for each other have been foregone in favour of doing something as a family or using the money to get something for the kids.

So far from not knowing what to get for him for his special birthday because he already has everything, I'm bamboozled as to what to get because there's so much that he does need. So here, I've come up with a gift guide for anyone else in the same boat: who's shopping for someone who's been neglected gift wise for a long time. Here's a bunch of stuff I know he'd love. Now, what to choose?

• A pair of brogues from Loake Shoemakes. He already has a pair from about seven years ago and they've seen better days. He's lived in them and worn them with everything and even had them re-soled locally a few times. (Though I've since learned you can send them back to the factory to be re-soled.) Loake have recently opened their first Irish store on Wicklow Street in Dublin and it's pretty much shoe heaven for men who like quality, classic and beautiful shoes. Surely a new pair of these would see him right until his 50th?! There are loads of different styles to choose from if you check outwww.loake.co.uk and the Dublin store is open seven days per week. 

• A nice pair of pyjamas. Now that he's going to be 40, padding around the house in an old t-shirt and pair of jocks isn't going to cut it. He needs a pair of comfortable pyjamas for all these long nights in front of the fire we're going to be enjoying now that he's practically middle-aged. I've done some scouting online and I love the look of thesehttp://www.cyberjammies.co.uk/mens-new-arrivals/claret-and-blues-thermaknit-long-sleeve-t-shirt-and-woven-print-pyjamas.html. Comfy, cosy and stylish. 

• A sure sign of being a proper grown up is having good shaving gear. One of my big childhood memories is watching my dad shave and he ALWAYS had a shaving brush. This kit from The Bluebeards Revenge has lots of great products that will leave him feeling pampered. Disposable razors be gone! http://www.bluebeards-revenge.co.uk/product/the-bluebeards-revenge-shaving-cream-brush-and-double-edge-razor-gift-set-gift-boxed/

• A watch. He hasn't worn a watch for as long as I've known him but there's something sophisticated and stylish about a classic timepiece. It really does dress up an outfit and it's much better than having to rely on your phone to tell the time - especially as his seems to constantly be conked. I really like this watch by TOLD &  Co, and the fact that it's designed by an Irishman (former Munster rugby player Tomas O'Leary) is nice. http://www.toldandco.com/watches/tc15-white-face-gold-case-with-brown-leather-strap.html

• For any music buff like my other half, a record player would be a nice touch. This looks like a nice one and it's not too costly. https://www.amazon.co.uk/PTCD4BT-CLASSIC-RECORD-TURNTABLE-STREAMING/dp/B00KCJEIAC/ref=sr_1_54?ie=UTF8&qid=1479308474&sr=8-54&keywords=record+player 

• A night away is always good because it'd be a present for me as well! I love the sound of Monart as a special adult getaway because there are no children allowed. No, I haven't suddenly gone anti-children, but if we're going to treat ourselves to a luxurious night away sans little ones, it'd be nice to not have to look at other people's kids while we're at it.www.monart.ie

• A new coffee machine. The one we have is older than our first born and has been giving bother of late. I love the look of the bean to cup machines from De'Longhi - they seem fool proof and look like they'd make a cracking cuppa http://www.delonghi.com/en-gb/products/coffee/coffee-makers/automatic-coffee-makers/dinamica-ecam-35075s-r132215053

What do you reckon? Do you have any more ideas of stuff that would be suitable for someone's 40th? I'd love to hear them!

Child rape is NOT pornography.

I've got lots of different news alerts set up on my email account. It's part of my job: I have to keep my eye on stories, on the news, on what's happening with the world. I get lots of random stories sent to my inbox that have nothing to do with the topics that I've flagged but because they contain some of my keyword searches, they get sent to me. Many I don't even bother reading, but some catch my eye.

The amount of stories about child sexual abuse in my inbox seems to be increasing daily. Horrific stuff. Different stories from different publications but all with the same gut wrenching, awful details about innocent children being violated by a disgusting excuse for a human being: their father, their uncle, their teacher, their carer. The list is endless. 

This week, I was particularly horrified by a case that involved the sexual abuse of a child being videoed by the perpetrator. I won't go into the awful details but one thing, apart from the horror of what the victim went through, jumped out at me. It's been jumping out at me for years but now that I have three beautiful children of my own it grates more than ever. 

Please stop calling the sexual abuse and vicious rape of children 'child pornography' just because the vile rapist happened to film his crimes. It is NOT pornography. 

Whatever your stance is on the rights or wrongs of porn or the "adult film" industry, comparing it to child abuse is just plain wrong. If a man or woman was viciously raped and the crime was videoed and published online, it would not be referred to as pornography. Please let's afford the same respect to our children by not referring to the crimes against them as such. 

According to the Oxford English Dictionary online pornography is the  "Printed or visual material containing the explicit description or display of sexual organs or activity, intended to stimulate sexual excitement." Child rape is not porn. It's child rape. So giving it the same name as a video of two consenting adults engaging in sexual activity for the pleasure of their viewers/themselves/whoever is insulting and belittles the heinous crime that it is. I know some people argue that many of the participants of porn films are victims in different ways, but that's another debate and not something I'm getting into here.

 

So many news organisations are guilty of using the term 'child pornography' - here in Ireland and overseas. I hear it on TV and on radio news bulletins regularly. Can we please stop? 

Snapchat Baby

This post is also from September when my laptop was broken - here it is in full in case you missed it on www.Evoke.ie

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So Grace Mongey, aka Faces by Grace, Snap Chatted her way through labour this week. Now, she didn't hold the phone between her legs and capture *the moment* her baby girl emerged into this world. But she did update her tens of thousands of followers during early labour, updated them when she was at 7cm and 10cm and snapped a gorgeous pic to announce BabyFaces arrival. 

I've seen a lot of comments online about how "nothing is sacred" anymore and that the whole thing was a bit "TMI". But I think it was brilliant. In fact, I'd nearly love to get pregnant again myself just so I could share the experience with people. Not that I have tens of thousands of followers on social media. Or not that I actually want to get pregnant again. But still. I would totally be up for this if I was having another baby.

Women are constantly told how awful childbirth and labour is. Any depiction of it in films or on the telly involves blood, sweat, tears and a whole lot of screaming and roaring. It looks terrifying and like nothing you'd ever want to actually go through. Grace's snaps showed labour in a different light. She was calm. She was smiling. She was relaxed. Her partner, Chris, or Kips for anyone who follows the extremely likeable couple on Snapchat, wasn't a bumbling buffoon being roared at or having his fingers squeezed to breaking point. They showed what labour is like for a lot of people: an intimate, beautiful and life-changing experience that doesn't have to be scary or awful. 

The more women who are empowered to have positive birthing experiences and try things like the hynobirthing that Grace advocated during her pregnancy, the more the fear will be taken out of childbirth. 

I was always terrified of labour because of the aforementioned depictions of it that surrounded me but when I actually got pregnant and realised that giving birth was part of that process, I did a thing called Gentlebirth to help me prepare. And I managed to have drug free labours without fear. 

Now, don't get me wrong: they weren't walks in the park, but my labours were positive experiences and I wish I had videoed them or taken photos as I'm sure in time the little details will fade from my memory. Having children is the biggest thing to have ever happened to me, yet I've got no videos, no pictures to look back on. Childbirth - in fact so many 'women's issues' are such taboo, even in this day and age. They really don't have to be. 

Aupair Woes

This post is from September. I wrote it when my laptop was on the blink so I'm only getting to post it now. Some of you may already have read it on www.Evoke.ie 

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So our luck with aupairs ran out last week after I discovered the young woman who had joined our family just days before had violently pushed my toddler and had been shouting at the kids. It was her third day with our family and the first time I'd left her alone with the children. I was gone for less than an hour, having done a leisurely child-free weekly shop. When I came home, I had a look in the sitting room window, as I always do, and waved at the kids, who looked happy and content sitting on the couch being read a story by her. 

But when I unlocked the front door and the children ran to greet me, a different story emerged. My 2.5 year old instantly burst into tears and told me that the aupair had pushed her onto the couch. Big fat tears rolled down her face and she was pretty inconsolable - which isn't like her at all. I brought her in and calmed her down and proceeded to ask my older children what had happened. My six year old gleefully demonstrated on the four year old how the aupair had shoved my little girl - a tiny slip of a thing - onto the couch. She'd been roaring at them as well. 

I calmly asked the aupair, who had nervously snaked off into the kitchen at this point, for her side of the story. She didn't deny the kids' version. She did say that she couldn't remember pushing her but that she must have done if the kids said so. They had no reason to lie, she said. Indeed. There were tears and apologies and when I told her she had to go, she understood. For the next three days, until her flight back home, she hid out in her room and emerged only for coffee and food. I kind of felt sorry for her in the end. 

I've seen all the nanny cam videos of child minders hurting the kids in their care. I've seen the Prime Time investigation into creches. I never imagined that I could have hired an aupair capable of similar behaviour. I'm so glad the kids told me about it early - I shudder to think of what could have happened if she had gotten into her groove with it. The sad thing about it is, kids are so forgiving too. They had really warmed to her and were affectionate and open with her. They forgive so easily and despite the shouting and the aggression, were sad to say goodbye to her. "I miss my new friend," was how Tessa put it after I had dropped her to the bus station. And I guess that's how abuse happens at home and by family members too. Kids forgive so easily. They trust so easily and they love so freely. 

Nobody saw you...

THERE'S a lovely post doing the rounds on Facebook at the moment. "Nobody Saw You". A tribute to mums for all that they do that no one gives them credit for. The little things that go unnoticed for the most part. You can find the original post here - loads of my mum friends have posted it. http://www.likereallifeblog.com/2016/06/22/nobody-saw-you/ I couldn't help but write my own version of Nobody Saw You because every day in life I utter to myself: "Thank God nobody saw that."

Here goes: 

Nobody saw you,

nobody at all

at 3am when

they woke again

and you whispered fuck

and rolled over and pretended not to hear them, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Nobody saw you

picking up the peas

and putting them back on their plates.

The 5 second rule is still applicable to kids, right?

Nobody saw you taking the uniform out of the laundry basket

giving it a sniff and wiping it with a damp cloth 

because you forgot to put a wash on over the weekend again.

Nobody saw you picking snot from their noses because you forgot the tissues,

Or lifting the log of poop out of her nappy with a wipe and flushing it down the loo because you forgot to bring a spare nappy.

Nobody saw you when you said you couldn't find the paintbrushes and turned on Paw Patrol instead because you really can't be bothered cleaning up gloops of paint again. 

Nobody saw you thinking "oh fuck it" and letting them wear the same underwear for two days in a row because you're running late and they don't want to wear the blue ones today mammy.

Nobody saw you losing it and shouting your head off at them when you promised yourself that you'd try to have more patience. 

Nobody saw you give them Weetabix for dinner because they're not going to bastard eat the lovely chickpea stew you had in mind anyway are they?

Nobody saw them fall down the last few steps because you were busy looking at someone's new jeans on their Snapchat story.

Nobody saw you skipping pages in the bedtime story because you really can't be fucked reading about The Gruffalo or Stickman again. 

Nobody saw you doing a half assed job of brushing their teeth last night because you knew the takeaway would be arriving soon and you wanted to sit down with a glass of wine. 

Nobody saw you, thanks be to God. I'd die a death sometimes if the realities of my motherhood were exposed for all to see. Oh wait...

Is World Breastfeeding Week going tits up?

Milk coma post feed with my 2.5 year old beautiful baby 

So it’s World Breastfeeding Week this week. I feel obliged to talk about it, to fly the flag, so to speak. I’ve been breastfeeding for the best part of six years at this point and given that my 2.5 year old is a self-confessed “boobie addict”, I don’t see myself stopping any time soon. And guess what? I’m a normal mum, just like any other mum I know. I’m not a freak. I’m not a martyr. I’m not a child abuser. I’m not a show off. I’m not disgusting. I’m not any of the horrible things I’ve seen directed at breastfeeding mums this week on various online forums or comment sections online.  I’m just a mum, doing what works for me and what I feel is best for my kids. 

I breast feed my baby because it’s what she needs, what she wants, what works for us. I know plenty of people who still give their kids bedtime bottles at this age. Soothers too. Great. If it works for them, why not? My little girl is still in nappies. She is still totally dependant on me. She’s still a baby. So why is it so strange that she still wants to feed? We are mammals after all, and it’s perfectly normal for a mother to feed her young for years, as opposed to months, which seems to be the only socially acceptable amount of time to feed your child in this country. If that. 

My husband’s family have cattle and calves feed off their mothers for years, on demand. I mean not dairy cows of course. Newborn calves are whipped away from their mothers pretty soon after birth so the the mother can be milked to provide milk for human consumption and of course to make formula for people who choose not to breast feed. In Dublin zoo recently, a gorilla had a baby and she will feed her offspring on demand too for years. But somehow it’s abnormal for me to do it. Because boobs. Boobs are sexual. Women are commodities and breasts are for titillation and it confuses the hell out of people when women do what’s natural with them and feed their children.

This week, I’ve seen a lot of posts on Facebook in celebration of World Breastfeeding Week. And every. single. one. ends up in a virtual scrap about how breastfeeders need to stop throwing it in people’s faces. How formula feeding isn’t bad. How we should stop making mother’s feel guilty for not breastfeeding. To be honest, it’s infuriating. Why does it have to be hijacked like this? Why can’t it just be what it’s supposed to be: a week where breastfeeding is celebrated and promoted. Lord knows we need it. It’s not like we’re in the majority. Only around 3% of the population do it and many people report struggles with it, so clearly the support networks and expertise is not there. Many women are trying but having to quit because there is so much misinformation out there and because formula companies do such a great job of promoting their products. 

I would like to make one thing clear: as a breastfeeder, I have no intention of making anyone feel guilty because I breastfeed. I have no intention of trying to feel superior. I have no intention of shoving my tits in your face. I don’t care how you feed your child. Do what’s right for you. I do care, however, if you wanted to breastfeed but were struggling, that doctors and nurses just automatically suggest bottles in many cases. I care that tongue ties are missed and people aren’t getting help if they want it. That’s what I care about. 

Breastfeeding is promoted in hospitals as being the best way to feed your child. It’s tailored to exactly suit your baby, it’s got live anti bodies that prevent infection and it’s also good for mum. The list of reasons to breast feed goes on and on. It’s not the best way. It’s the natural way. The normal way. The biological way we’re supposed to feed. If you don’t fancy doing it, don’t. But it doesn’t change the fact that all those things are true. It’s science. It’s fact. It’s real life. It’s the same with any kind of food. Some foods are processed, artificial, full of additives and preservatives. These aren’t as good for you and don’t have as many health benefits as natural foods like fruits and vegetables etc. Some people still choose to eat junk food. That’s grand. It’s your choice. But do you get angry at people who eat healthily? Abuse them online for showing plates of salad or talking about the delicious piece of fish they had for their dinner? Do people get berated for running or exercising because they’re making people who choose to sit on the couch and watch Netflix feel bad about themselves? 

The world is full of choices. Make them. Own them. Be happy with them. If you tried to breastfeed but couldn’t manage it for one reason or another, be angry with your hospital for not providing you with the support. Be angry that there is virtually no funding for lactation consultants. Be angry that hospitals spend a fortune on giving out free formula while mothers struggle in agony asking for help with feeding only to be told that there’s no lactation consultant available today. Be angry that you were failed. But please don’t be angry with me. You didn’t fail. You were failed. 

If you chose to use formula after doing all of your research and deciding that it simply wasn’t for you, for whatever reason, that’s fine too. Good for you. But please don’t get angry about breastfeeding promotion. Please don’t get angry that your midwife will talk to you about the fact that breastfeeding is better for your baby than formula. These are the facts. If you were a smoker your midwife would tell you you need to stop, if you were overweight she might suggest a diet plan to help you lose weight. None of these things are to hurt you or to make you angry. They’re simply providing information. It’s up to you to do what you will with that information. So please, can we call a truce and stop these so called ‘mommy wars’. I promise I’m not judging you. Now, can people please stop judging me?

Kids say the darnedest things...

Last week, Prince George - the firstborn of Prince William and Kate Middleton for anyone who’s been hiding under a rock - turned three. He was all over the news - people wrote about his cutest outfits, the birthday gifts that he’d most likely receive and who he’s met in his three short years on this planet. One of the articles that stood out most for me was one about his best quotes. It got me thinking about some of the clangers my kids have come out with over the years, much to my mortification. 

There are so many times that I’ve had to literally talk over them mid sentence for fear of how they finished it. And I always think of my sister’s son, who when a particularly rotund colleague visited their home, came out with a toy measuring tape from his Bob the Builder set and started trying to measure her back, saying, “Wow, your back is as big as an iceberg.” I also think of Maisie, who, not yet out of nappies, started pointing at a shabbily dressed bearded man on the bus, pointed and kept saying: “Look mammy, a scarecrow!” at the top of her voice. 

So this week, I started making note of the things they said to me at one point or another. It was actually a nice exercise and I will probably try and keep it up. It’ll be something to look back on in years to come and chuckle. And when they’re teenagers and accusing me of being an embarrassing parent, I can remind them that the embarrassment sometimes works both ways. 

Here are some of my favourites quotes from the past week: some funny, some lovely, and some just plain mean!

“Mommy, you’re not stupid anymore.” Tessa, aged 2, after I gave her a biscuit.

“Mommy is your tummy big like that because you ate too much pizza?” Maisie, aged 5.

“Mum, hurry up and clean my butt - this poo stinks.” George, aged 4.

“I love you mommy, you’re the best.” Maisie.

“Mommy, can men have babies in their tummies too?” Maisie, loudly, whist looking at a man’s belly at the doctor’s surgery. 

“Mum, I’ll love you even when I’m a grown up.” George.

Kids. They say the darnedest of things...

A Sunny Summer's Day with kids

The opposite of what we look like on the beach

6am - The sun comes blaring in the window, springing the kids into action. I relinquish all my ideas of banning technology and reach for the iPad that I’ve strategically placed under the bed for such emergencies. The battle ensues about whether they’ll watch Peppa Pig, a creepy kid opening kinder eggs or the re-enactment of battle scenes from Star Wars by kids dressed up and wielding light sabres. I shuffle them towards another room and crawl back to bed. Oh Orange is The New Black, why did I stay up watching you until 1am?

7.30 - Square eyed from the aforementioned iPad, the kids come looking for their breakfast. “Not porridge again,” they whine. 

7.45 - I dump most of the porridge in the bin and clean up the wreck that is the kitchen. Didn’t I just spend ages doing this before bed?

8am - the first snack run. ‘I’m hungry” they whine, skulking across the kitchen and peering into the fridge looking for yoghurts or cheese or anything else they can get their hands on.

9am - 1pm - Repeat the snack run pretty much every hour. What is the story with the insatiable hunger??

1pm - Lunch. I’m not hungry, mammy. I don’t want this. 

1.15pm - Chuck the lunch in the bin and sweep the floor for the 275th time that day.

1.30pm - I’m hungry mammy. I want a snack.

2pm - I pack everything but the kitchen sink into the car: buckets and spades, diggers, footballs, watering cans, toy tractors, towels, swimming gear, suncream and of course snacks. 

2.30pm - Arrive at the beach I finally get them dressed for swimming, aka jumping over waves and covering themselves with sand. The stuff gets into every crack, including their ears. How??

2.45pm - Shivering, they run towards me. “I’m hungry mammy”. Out come the snacks and they chow down on bananas and sandwiches covered in sand, crunching through the grit, oblivious to it. 

3pm - 5pm - More splashing around, eating sand, throwing sand, rolling in sand. Repeat for the next couple of hours. We run out of snacks. It’s time to go home. 

6pm: Bath. It’s time to get rid of that sand and remove the suncream from their greasy heads. 

7pm: Daddy’s home, it’s time for dinner. They’re starving. “Did you not feed them all day?” 

8pm : I close the curtains in the sitting room. Everyone’s exhausted but the sun is still shining outside and the neighbours’ kids are running wild on the green. “But it’s still day time mammy,” they battle on. 

8.15: Cajole them into brushing their teeth, daddy tells them a story and I lie down with them in the hopes it will speed up the bedtime process.

Midnight: Wake up fully clothed and disorientated with the lights all on downstairs. Damn it. Get ready for bed and sort the kip downstairs before crawling back to bed ahead of doing the same again the following day except tomorrow it’s forecasting rain. Ahhh Irish summers with kids. 

MONEY OR SEX? You've all had your say

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The Perfect World of Snapchat

“ISN’T she far too pretty to be a teacher?” This was just one of the examples of a statement made by a high profile Snapchatter that made me despair at being a blogger. I won’t mention who uttered the words but it’s safe to say she’s extremely popular and has a lot of influence, especially amongst young women and girls. 

This week, I returned to Snapchat, having come off it for a number of weeks. I didn’t miss it. At all. I hadn’t been on the social media platform for long but I felt suffocated. Disillusioned. Lost. I’ve been a journalist for a decade but this was new territory for me. I was exposing some aspects of my life for all to see and trying to be as authentic as possible. A few hundred people were watching as I did tours of the site we’re hoping to build our home on, showed people what I was buying on my big monthly shop and giving little tips on how I save money. Oh and let’s not forget my dinner tips or my latest attempt to lose the baby weight (read: cake weight. Who am I kidding, my youngest is over two now).

As far as I can see, anyone who’s anyone on the Irish Snapchat scene these days has a formula that seems to just work. They have tens of thousands of followers. The done thing seems to be to talk incessantly about different brands, different products and to attend one launch after another. There’s a lot of makeup talk, lots about tanning and contouring and a whole lot about avocados. Yes, avocados are big in the world of Snapchat and blogging. 

Weight loss is another obsession on the social media channel. I see countless people who to me, look stick thin, constantly banging on about the food they eat, how many calories or macros or whatever are in what they’re putting in their mouths. There’s a lot of talk of protein bars and clean eating. There’s the bad foods, the cheat days, the constant selfies showing off hip bones and rib cages and stick thin arms, videos of their thigh gaps running on treadmills. A few of them talk about ‘wellness’ a great deal but to me they don’t seem well at all, given what seems to be such a rigid focus on body image and such extreme control on the food they do and don’t eat. It can’t be healthy and it can’t be a good message for young people. But everyone seems to be lapping it up.

I came off Snapchat because I was fed up of watching the same things, day in day out, and thinking that if this is what people want to watch, it’s not something I have to offer. I came back on it this week in an attempt to prove to myself that sometimes being yourself is enough and that not everyone’s life is glossy, perfect and materialistic. Plus, we’ll be building our house at some point soon and everyone loves a bit of property porn!

And on top of this, I have discovered some Irish Snapchatters that don’t leave me feeling depressed or have me rolling my eyes on a regular basis, who have interesting things to say and whose lives don’t seem revolve around possessions or looking good and trying to sell something to their viewers. Of course I have nothing against beauty bloggers who make a great living out of doing what they do, but I just feel there’s a need for something different that doesn’t make people feel as if they’re frumpy and  unglamorous and some who’s not trying to flog one product after another either on behalf of themselves or another brand who’s paying them to do so.

I spoke to a couple of my favourites recently, who for a few different reasons, I really like. 

 Lindsay Hamilton. Snapchat handle: @mermaidajade

One of them is a woman from Portmarnock called Lindsay Hamilton - a nail technician in a Dublin salon called Tropical Popical, mother of two, extended breastfeeder and general gas woman who really doesn’t give a toss about what anyone thinks about her. She’s inserted a tampon on Snapchat, sucked her friend’s toes and has an alter ego from the ‘country’ who’s hilarious ramblings about her boyfriend Paddy O’Holohan leave me laughing out loud. She twerks, she talks about constipation and UTIs, and isn’t afraid to say things as they really are. 

The 29-year-old - whose sister recently appeared on First Dates Ireland - told me: “What I like about Snapchat is that it differs from other well used forms of social media. On Instagram everyone pretends to be super healthy, happy and rich. On Facebook everyone pretends to be really interested in current affairs and it's very much a 'I can change the world with this status' kind of vibe. I think Snapchat is more real. You can look rank on it and talk about thrush or inserting tampons and while covered in Sudocreme.”

On being an extended breastfeeder she said: “I haven't got any 'hate' or negativity on it yet. I'm pretty sure most of the Dublin public have seen my nipple at this point. I have breastfed everywhere from Dublin bus to the Powerscourt Centre steps. I am not going to hide away in the blue-lit loos in Supermacs for other people's comfort. I don't know if I'm an advocate I just know I have no shame.”

As for her Snapchat style, she said: “I wouldn't snap anything serious like unboxing a free bag of popcorn or seriously reviewing a shade of Essence lipliner. I'm too sarcastic for that shit. And literally cannot take myself seriously for one second. I regret loads of snaps but I don’t give a f***. Who cares? It's me either way so whether people see it or not it doesn’t make a difference. I am 'not solid in the head' as one follower wrote me the other day.”

As for the type of feedback she gets from viewers, Lindsay said: “The best snaps I receive are when people tell me that they have been going through a hard time and that I made them laugh. Ones that stand out are a woman telling me her Grandad just died and seeing Riloh and Luna-Jade playing put a smile on her face. Or a new mum coming back from hospital was laughing so much at Karen from Cavan (my bogger character) she woke her new baby up, but she didn't care. 

“The worst are obviously men just sending their langers. Most of them are made up mostly of foreskin and the usernames are like 'markybear69' so I should know better than to open them but as soon as I see anything like it I block the sick feck. It's so invasive to my day and just like gross because I'm around my kids. Sending D pics unprompted will be made illegal in a few years, mark my words.”

Eimear Varian Barry @eimearvb

Another mum who I really like watching on Snapchat is Cork woman Eimear Varian Barry, who’s an Instagram star and blogger. She might be beautiful and have lovely clothes and a gorgeous home, unlike most of the other bloggers I’ve watched, Eimear’s story isn’t a constant brag of the freebies she’s getting and she seems really down to earth and not afraid to show the more unglamorous aspects of her life and motherhood in general. She’s a mum of two and is currently breastfeeding her youngest, and she isn’t afraid to talk about it, which I love. 

She told me: “I only ever got one bad reaction on my Snapchat. Someone wrote me a message saying "unfollowing due to constant nipple talk" . Which I thought was hilarious!

Breastfeeding is hugely important to me. It's such a personal choice and it's super nice to get such great feedback on social media. I could harp on about it all day. How long you got?”

“I just started Snapchatting when I had Harper. I was talking about everything I was going through on there and didn't realise women were actually looking at it going through the same thing. I  have taken screenshots of women messaging me saying how much I have helped them and that warmed my heart. That's the beauty of social media. Support, validation etc is there for you if you need it.”

As for her parenting style, she said: “I just do whatever feels right and what suits me. Like every other mother does. I’m not really very good at routines/sticking to a plans. I prefer to  try and say yes to everything and go with the flow.”

And whether or not social media paints an accurate picture of what her life is like, she explained: “I think it's vital for people to remember that Instagram is a documentation of small pieces of your life (which I have in my bio). I do believe in putting the best version of yourself out there though. I think Snapchat is great for showing a bit more real life. 

As for what’s off limits, she said: “I would never snap tantrums/ potting training...stuff like that. I've seen it online and have thought  it was a bit  degrading for the child when he/she is older. There is the issue of oversharing, which I am very cautious of.”

Eimear, who lives in Surrey with her family, grew up in Friars Walk in Cork City but has lived in New York and Australia. She explained: “After three years in NY, I moved to Australia and was travelling up the east coast on my own for a few months after being in Melbourne for a year. I literally fell in love with Daniel over a jug of beer in a hostel in Darwin’s outback. I knew I wanted to have his babies! He moved down to Melbourne for me as I got an amazing job with The Style Co.  

“We moved back to Surrey where he is from a year later. A week after we moved back I found out i was pregnant! I set up an Instagram around that time and was just posting photos and documenting little pieces of my life. People seemed to like it and it just grew from there.” Eimear now has just under 60,000 followers on Instagram. 

Other Snapchat stars I like: @rosemarymaccabe - everyone on Snapchat knows Rosemary MacCabe by now. She’s down to earth, honest about her collaborations and talks about important issues such as feminism and other political issues, as well as about her weight loss journey.

@oneilllouise Author Louise O’Neill often lives in her bear dressing gown on Snapchat and despite being a world renowned best selling author doesn’t shy away from talking about the struggles of working from home - her hatred of washing her hair being a common complaint. Louise is down to earth and shows off her life without being braggy. She’s also a feminism guru, which I love.

If anyone knows anyone I should be following, be sure to let me know!

The emotional rollercoaster of leaving our kids for the first time

We finally did it. We managed to get away for the night on our own, without the kids. It’s only taken five and a half years and I only slightly freaked out at the prospect. We decided to go to Liss Ard Estate just outside Skibbereen in West Cork. It’s only half an hour away from where we live so we figured it was a good one for our first night away - we could easily have jumped into a cab and gone home if they hadn’t settled for our babysitter. It was absolutely glorious, with a romantic setting, gorgeous walks and fantastic food. And drink. The drink was fantastic. I went through lots of emotions whilst away and I’m sure a lot of other parents can relate. Here is the rollercoaster I went through:

*Saying goodbye was emotional. Tears welled up in my eyes as I kissed them all goodbye and watched them wave from the window. The girls were totally fine but our little boy looked less than impressed and lamented about how he was going to miss us “so much”. Guilts, guilts, guilts.

*Half way down the road,  I realised we were listening to the Frozen CD and switched it off for the first time in God knows how long. We got to listen to the radio. Grown up radio! Hurrah!

*Arriving at our destination and seeing our gorgeous room - not a cot bed in sight and a bottle of Prosecco waiting for us. Oh my gosh - bliss!

*Walking down to the treatment room to get a back and shoulder massage. “Oh God, maybe I should have rang them to see how they’re getting on.” “But it’s only been an hour, cop yourself on.” This is me arguing with myself, by the way. The worry and regret was creeping in. What have we done??

*Lying down on the massage table waiting for the therapist to come back. I can’t remember when I last lay down without someone hanging off me. About a million thoughts run through my brain as my sane self urges the panicking part of me to get a grip and relax. The massage was fantastic. The knots in my back had knots and they melted away.

*Back up to the room whilst himself has his massage. I walk around, wondering what to do with myself and decide that a shower without an audience and that didn’t have to be rushed, was in order. Pure bliss. I could get used to this.

*We get ready for dinner and enjoy a glass of Prosecco. Who am I kidding - we drank the whole bottle. We text the sitter and learn that the kids are doing great. Brilliant. We can properly relax now.

*Dinner was fabulous. I got to eat at normal pace rather than inhale everything down as quickly as possible. We enjoyed a delicious bottle of wine and dessert and didn’t have to worry about anyone running riot through the place. Wow. A revelation.

*After dinner, we go for a walk and a wander around the gardens. It’s gorgeous. “The kids would love this.” I lament. “I miss them.” We go back inside an order a G&T.

*We get word back that the kids are all asleep and happy. No tears and everything went without a hitch. Exhilaration! Why don’t we do this more often?! We order another G&T.

*By 11.30 we’re both zonked and hit the hay. The bed seems pretty huge without three children squished in on top of me. I’m a little sad but relish in the fact that I’ll get an uninterrupted night of sleep for the first time in God knows how long.

*3am I wake in a puddle of milk. I hadn’t realised how much my youngest must feed during the night. Me and the bed are drenched. Oh, the glamour. I find it hard to get back to sleep and wish she was there to relieve the throbbing sensation in my chest. I toss and turn for the rest of the night.

*8am we have a leisurely breakfast. Again, being catered to and eating in peace brings pure joy. It’s the little things.

*10am we have a guided tour of the gardens and the Sky Garden  and it’s amazing. We can take our time and enjoy conversation and not worry about someone legging it into the lake or picking random flowers that they shouldn’t.

*12 noon, the tour is over and we check out. We decide to head to the market and do a spot of shopping. After five minutes we’re anxious and want to get home to the kids so we get back into the car and head home.

*12.45, we arrive home and there are emotional hugs and a much needed feed from the baby. It’s so great to be back, gosh these kids are amazing, I feel so refreshed now.

*1pm, I’m making lunch and everyone is whinging that they want such and such instead. Back to reality. Maybe we should have stayed away that little bit longer after all.

The glamour of expressing!

<3

Liss Ard is glorious

Liss Ard is glorious 

Our lovely anniversary break

Nick Cave, Bono, Patti Smith, Lou Reed, Van Morrisson and most recently, Mark Hamill and co of Star Wars fame…The spot we chose for our anniversary night away has an impressive former guest list that goes on and on. Liss Ard Estate near Skibbereen in the heart of beautiful West Cork may be just over half an hour away from where we live, but in terms of a treat and relaxation, it was on another planet. It was the first time ever that we managed to get away as a couple since having kids, so the fact that the Blue Book-listed property is practically on our doorstep made the getaway that much easier. Being so close meant that it was much easier to get out the door and to our destination, first of all. Secondly, it was so much easier to relax, knowing that if anything were to happen or if the kids failed to settle for the babysitter, we could always just jump in a cab and come home. Thankfully neither happened and we managed to exhale, relax and enjoy our new found freedom - even if it was just for one night.

Liss Ard really surpassed our expectations. The sun was splitting the stones last weekend when we pulled in the tree-lined avenue that led up to the 19th century estate. The stunning chorus of birdsong and stillness masked the fact that it’s minutes from the thriving town of Skibbereen, with its pubs and restaurants and shops. The gardens at Lisa Ard seem to go on forever and we enjoyed a tour by local guide Ann Collins (www.walkabout.vpweb.ie), who was a wealth of information about the entire estate and local area. We meandered along paths, took in breathtaking views along the lake and had our minds blown by the Irish Sky Garden, designed by American artist James Turrell. The crater - which was built to be the perfect viewing platform for the Irish sky, day or night, has a stone plynth in the middle where two people can lie, toe to toe, and take in the peace and quiet and admire the cloudless, azure sky. Apparently it’s just as magical at night, when clear skies allow for a birds eye view of an Atlantic sky in all its twinkling splendour. It was strange being able to lay back and relax and not have three little pairs of feet to be worrying about. In fact, it was a rare occurrence indeed to not have to be on high alert for someone falling over, getting up to mischief or doing something they shouldn’t. We probably spent half of our time there inadvertently looking over our shoulders and waiting for the cries of ‘mammy, daddy’. We definitely did relax though. You cannot help but relax at Lisa Ard. There’s a sense of purity and freedom about the place, an enchanted forest feel. Yet the house itself is pure luxury, and if you’re with a large group there are self-catering options as well. We saw one family takeover the lake lodge, which in itself is modern yet luxurious and with a breathtaking view.

There are loads of activities to do at Liss Ard Estate, if you’re that way inclined. You could borrow a bike and cycle around the grounds or head to somewhere like Tragumna if you are feeling energetic. You can also go boating on the lake, or kayaking, or enjoy a spot of fishing. We chose none of these adventurous outdoor pursuits, instead opting for a relaxing head and shoulders massage from the resident therapist. There is no spa at Liss Ard but you can book treatments in advance and I’d highly recommend the massage. The knots in my shoulders had knots, and lying back and having them kneaded away in peace and quiet was just pure bliss.

We stayed in a room in the main house with a stunning view of the lush green grounds. The king sized bed was really comfortable and the shower was glorious - and not just because I got to have one without an audience for the first time in about four years. Downstairs, there are superbly decorated drawing rooms and living rooms, with books galore to enjoy and comfortable couches to lounge back on while enjoying a G&T or a glass of wine. We had both. Dinner in the evening was divine. To start, I had chilled pea soup with a tower of melt in the mouth crab meat, while himself had a delicious pork belly and black pudding combo that was to die for. For the main, I tucked into monkfish, while he had a beef wellington cooked to perfection. Dessert was the most delicious sticky toffee pudding I’ve ever had, and a cheese board. The following morning, during our tour, we spotted where the grow their veg and salads - literally as much as possible is locally sourced and they make the most of all the wonderful natural resources on their doorstep. Breakfast the next morning was a buffet of fresh fruits, cereals, yoghurt, juices and delicious bread and croissants, and you could order anything hot from the kitchen, so it was freshly cooked to order. Delicious. I went for the full Irish while himself enjoyed an eggs benedict.

Saturday is market day in Skibbereen so we headed there to stock up on fresh bread, some cake and a delicious coffee before heading back home to see the kids. It had been less than 24 hours but my batteries felt recharged, albeit a little foggy after that extra G&T before bed. If we hadn’t been in such a rush to go back, there’s so much to explore right on Liss Ard’s doorstep. There’s Glebe Gardens and Baltimore, Glandore and Union Hall, Rosscarbery and so any other gems between Skibbereen and Cork city, which is just over an hour and a half away.  Or of course you could go further west, to Schull or Ballydehob, or Brow Head near Crookhaven - where the views are so out of this world that the Star Wars movie is being filmed there this week. Beautiful. Liss Ard is less than four hours from Dublin, just over 2.5 from Limerick, less than 1.5 hours from Cork. I’d highly recommend it to anyone looking for relaxation or a romantic break away. We were celebrating our fifth wedding anniversary and couldn’t have picked a more perfect spot to do so. For more information go to www.lissardestate.com