A Day in the Life....

PIPPA O’CONNOR revealed the cover of her new book this week and invited people to pre-order it ahead of its release in October. It’s called Pippa: Simple Tips to Live Beautifully. Sounds great. Between herself and Rosanna Davison’s book, Eat Yourself Beautiful, there really is no excuse for me to be going around looking like I’ve got scales instead of skin, thighs made of mince meat that’s been painted a blueish white tinge and a hair style I’ve been sporting since the age of 14. Pippa is ready to give birth to her second child any day now and apart from the basketball shape that’s up her top, you’d never know it. She’s still got cheekbones to contour and highlight, collar bones to illuminate and  let’s not forget the elusive a thigh gap. Her feet don’t seem to have swollen into lumps that resemble slabs of boiled bacon either. What the actual hell is her secret? She’s nine months pregnant and looks more stylish, slimmer and more put together than I ever have. Pippa seems lovely. She’s the girl next door type that can do no wrong and everyone seems to love her. I’ve interviewed her a few times and she was as lovely then as she is on Snapchat, on Facebook and on the telly. What a bitch…I’m joking. Kind of…Anyway, I’m not a bit jealous of her, I swear. And I’ve decided to take some inspiration from her and give people a sneak peek into my daily routine, just in case there’s anyone out there who wants to emulate my lifestyle instead of hers.

Not a candle in sight at 9 months pregnant! Image taken from www.pippa.ie

Look at that perfect bump and glamour! Image taken from www.pippa.ie

1. Prise my eyes open and remove the two year old from my tit and hope that no one has pissed the bed. They all sleep in with me a lot of the time. Practically every night. Bed wetting is a rare occurrence nowadays, thankfully, but I’m still scarred from waking up shivering and soaked in someone else’s urine. 

2. Reach up and touch my hair and mentally calculate when I last had a shower and decide that another 10 minutes in bed is more favourable than getting up to put the immersion on. I’ll wash myself tonight when the kids are in bed. Maybe.

3. Pick up the jeans I’ve been wearing for the past two days off the floor and pull them on along with whatever happens to be clean and least wrinkled from my wardrobe, which is jam packed full of too-small clothes and stuff that hasn’t been stylish since 2009. I call this period BC - before children. 

4. Drag myself downstairs and eat a slice of toast and drink half a cup of tea. It’s always half. I never ever get around to the second half. I keep planning on starting the porridge and seeds and protein and raw diet malarky that I keep seeing everyone bang on about. Maybe another day. For now, it’s Barry’s instead of Matcha tea, which I think I saw for €20 in Supervalu the other day. Feck that. I could get two good bottles of red for that price.

5. If I have work meetings or Skype calls, I do try and spruce myself up a bit and will generally attempt to put some makeup on. I’ve got the same bottle of foundation that I got when I got married five years ago and I dread to think how long everything else has been in there. In fact, I’ll probably end up being a clickbait article you see on Facebook on of these days: “YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHAT THIS MOTHER FOUND GROWING IN HER EYELASHES AFTER USING 20 YEAR OLD TUBE OF MASCARA”.

6. I’ve been guilty of using hand cream on my face and shaving my legs with hair conditioner. The shampoo I’m currently using cost €3 in the chemist - it’s made from coconut oil, I keep hearing that coconut oil is magical, so it must be good, right? It’s an upgrade from the 79c bottle from Lidl I was using before that anyway. Which was decent, by the way. I recently treated myself to Kinvara Cleansing Oil and Rosehip Day Cream after seeing someone recommend it online. I used it for an entire week while on holidays and my skin was like silk in comparison to the irritated dryness I was used to. Any day now, I’ll get back into the routine of using it again. I can literally see the wrinkles creeping back into my face.

7. In the morning, squeeze as much as I possibly can in - laundry, picking up bits from the chaos that is the morning routine and settle in to work. Snacks are usually apples that have a couple of bites taken out of them and put back in the fruit bowl by the kids. I don’t drink enough water and generally go the entire day without having a wee because there’s just too. much. to. do. 

8. Dinners are old fashioned. There are carbs and there is fat. There is meat and there are vegetables. Pasta, rice, spuds, noodles, and dare I admit it, even chips. 

9. Exercise is running around after the kids but that is going to change too. Any day now. My free taster class was before the Easter holidays and I’m definitely signing up for regular classes. Any. day. now. 

10. Evenings involve more tea and usually chocolate and the couch. 

So there you have it. 10 tips on how to live like me. Good luck. I might actually pre-order Pippa’s book this week. If it makes me more like her, surely it’s a good investment.

A day in the life in our gaff

Confessions of a guilty Mammy...

Dear Kids,

I’ve been meaning to write this for a while but I’ve been a bit overwhelmed at the thoughts of it. I keep hearing about new things that I need to add, so the longer I put it off, the worse it’s going to get. So here goes. 

I’m sorry I don’t always make healthy and nutritious dinners. Sometimes I’m just really tired after a long day and the thoughts of slaving over a hot cooker only to have the food thrown in the bin anyway is just too much. Frozen pizza it is.

I’m sorry for making you upset because I tried to force you to taste broccoli/kale/chickpeas/quinoa. I know you don’t want to try it and that you think it smells funny. But I’ve been told you’re going to have brittle bones or scurvey or rickets or whatever if you don’t start eating properly. 

I’m sorry I let you sleep in my bed. I know we both love the cuddles but I’m turning you into a weirdo who’s going to have OTT attachment issues to me. You won’t still want to share my bed when you’re 18, right?

I’m sorry I told you to go back to your own bed when you woke during the night and came in on top of me. I’ve traumatised you and made you feel like I don’t love you, haven’t I?

I’m sorry I’m breastfeeding you even though you’re two now. I know the World Health Organisation recommends it, and I know you still want to feed, but I’ve been told I’m turning you into a weirdo and that you’ll be a freak and that I’m a freak. Are we?

I’m sorry I don’t have a full time job. I know that I should be setting a good example of what it is to have it all, but I quit full time work to take care of you at home. I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I have to work so much during the day sometimes. I know you like spending time with me and get frustrated when I have to focus on my laptop or answer a business call. But we need the money. For wine. 

I’m sorry that I let you play with the iPad sometimes. It’s rotting your brain. I know. But for some inexplicable reason you love watching other kids open Kinder eggs and it allows me to get shit done for half an hour.

I’m sorry I regularly lie to you. The latest one being that YouTube only works on daddy’s phone. Hands off mine please.

I’m sorry I don’t do more arts and crafts with you and that sometimes I hide the Play Doh because I can’t be bothered picking it out of every crevice, including sometimes your ears and hair.

I’m sorry I let you swallow the toothpaste on a regular basis. I really should teach you how to spit it out but at that time of the night, I’d probably let you eat the entire tube if you wanted to.

I'm sorry that bath night has dropped to one night a week. You smell lovely, I promise.

I’m sorry I don’t teach you how to clean up after yourself properly. The house is constantly trashed and I’m constantly picking stuff up after you. I should insist you help so that you grow up to be a tidy, well-adjusted adult, unlike me. 

I’m sorry I don’t have a naughty step or a time out corner or wooden spoon. I’ve been told I’m spoiling you and that you will turn into a spoiled brat with no boundaries.

I’m sorry I laugh at your burps and farts, that we replace words in nursery rhymes with rude ones, just for giggles - I’m teaching you bad manners. Eek.

Basically, I’m ruining you. Breaking you. I’m your parent and you’re the future. I’m failing you in so many ways but please know that I love you and that I’m tired. I’ll try harder tomorrow. 

Lots of love,

Mammy. 

Things to see and do in West Cork

OUR family upped sticks and moved from Dublin to Clonakilty three years ago in January. The first few months we spent getting to know our surroundings and settling in and by the time summer came around we'd found our groove. And what a summer it was. My husband, having grown up here, was always raving about the fact that it's always a few degrees warmer and how I'd notice the difference weather-wise in comparison to home in Donegal, and even Dublin. So that summer, when we basked in temperatures of up to 30 degrees, I really felt like we'd hit the jackpot and moved to Ireland's answer to the Costa del Sol. The following summer was similar but third time wasn't so lucky - last summer was a washout and sometimes it feels like it hasn't stopped raining since. The good news it's supposed to be another scorcher this summer. Yay! Seriously though, we have moved to one of the most beautiful places on the planet and you should definitely make it your mission to visit, whether it's raining or not. One of the blog's readers got in touch a while back to ask me to write a blog post about things to do with kids when visiting the area and it's taken me ages to actually get around to it, so here it is...An almost local's guide to holidaying in West Cork...

It’s easy to see why this part of the world has got a reputation the world over as the go-to location for breaks that suit everyone. During the summer, you will hear all sorts of accents and people travel from all over Ireland as well. It's no wonder there are so many 'blow ins' from the States, Germany, the UK and the rest of Europe - people who come generally don't want to leave. The food on offer across the board is varied and delicious - a foodie paradise, if you will. From packing a picnic of goodies from the Lettercollum Kitchen Project in Clonakilty to feasting on fresh seafood cooked to perfection at Deasy’s in Ring, to snacking on Masterchef Ireland winner Diana Dodog’s culinary masterpieces at the Food Depot food truck in Courtmacsherry on Sundays, there's something for everyone. That, plus the gorgeous markets - I love the Clonakilty one, which takes place on Fridays, and the one in Skibbereen on Saturdays. In Clon, I highly recommend a pizza from Ron's Oven or a massaman curry from the Thai food stall. There's also a lady who sells crepes that are always a huge hit with the kids, and during the summer there's a juice and smoothie stand. Other places I'd highly recommend are Monk's Lane in Timoleague, Pilgrim's in Rosscarbery and Scannells in Clonakilty for lunch.

Everything in this part of Ireland seems to have been conjured up with families in mind: miles of glorious beaches to tire out little legs - Dunworley, Red Strand, Long Strand, Owenahincha - the list goes on. Inchydoney was recently named the best beach in the country but we always gravitate towards Red Strand during the summer. It's less crowded and parking is easier. Plus there's less of a walk to get to actual sand from the road. You also can't beat the view to Galley Head lighthouse from the shore. It's paradise on a sunny day. There are nature and bike trails galore in West Cork too. And Rineen Woods near Union Hall and Glandore is a must for families with young children. A gentle hike through a winding path through a forest, framed on one side by a sheltered inlet. But the most magical part for the kids are the teeny tiny fairy houses along the paths. Watching the children gleefully skip along the path looking for the next fairy house is what memories are made of.

Another hit for us is the Golden Pheasant in Courtmacsherry. This place is a godsend on a busy day - somewhere to sit and rest our weary bones and have a cup of tea and a yummy slice of cake, or an ice-cream for the kids. It also houses a gift shop with local arts and crafts and souvenirs and books. But the best bit as far, as the kids were concerned, is the aviary - which even trumped the ice cream. A host of colourful birds are housed outdoors under the fresh West Cork air. A large, wise owl, reminiscent of a Gruffalo character is the highlight, his big eyes staring back as the kids gaze at him in wonder. There's also a gorgeous walk in the woods in Courtmacsherry if you go to the end of the village, you'll see signs. And it's famous for its bluebells in May - stunning. A walk around Liss Ard estate is gorgeous and the Sky Garden there is fabulous. I've also heard that boating on Loch Hyne is brilliant and Atlantic Sea Kayaking caters for kids as well. My kids also love the Model Railway Village in Clon - you can see a miniature version of all the West Cork Towns, there's an indoor soft play section and the highlight is a tour of the town on the 'choo choo'. There's the free West Cork Museum in Clonakilty as well, and a Michael Collins museum is due to open in the town shortly.

One thing about holidaying in Ireland is that you’re not guaranteed the weather. Places like The Treehouse in Skibbereen provide shelter and coffee on rainy days. A play centre for kids of all ages, the Treehouse is a lovely, clean space where the kids could let off steam and play on slides and soft play zones. For older kids there’s also Funmanway adventure centre in Dunmanway and the Smugglers Cove adventure golfing in Rosscarbery. Other fun days out included a visit to the Hobbit House at Glenview Gardens in Enniskeane. We had so much space to breathe in the fresh air and marvel at the beautiful coast around us. A hike up around Galley Head, for example, does the soul good. There's no clutter there, zero high rise, everything is a feast for the senses. Baltimore, just outside Skibbereen is gorgeous too, and I highly recommend lunch and a walk at Glebe Gardens while you're there. I've also heard amazing things about Garnish Island, which you get to from Glengarriff - we're definitely going to make it out there this summer.

West Cork isn’t as far away as you might think - the M8 motorway makes Cork city a fairly quick spin from Dublin, and less than an hour from the city, you’ll be in Clonakilty, where the rest of West Cork awaits just a short drive away.

Useful links: 

Liss Ard Estate Sky Garden: http://www.lissardestate.com/activities/james-turrell-the-irish-sky-garden

Atlantic Sea Kayaking: http://www.atlanticseakayaking.com

Model Railway Village, Clonakilty. http://www.modelvillage.ie

Pilgrims Restaurant Rosscarbery: http://pilgrims.ie

Scannells in Clonakilty: http://www.scannellsbar.com/

The Food Depot, Courtmacsherry: https://www.facebook.com/FoodDepotGourmetStreetKitchen/

Deasy's Seafood, Ring: https://www.facebook.com/Deasys-Harbour-Bar-Seafood-Restaurant-126741324027491/

Info on Rineen Woods: http://www.unionhall.ie/walking.html

The Hobbit House info: http://www.glenviewgardenswestcork.com

Glebe Gardens: http://www.glebegardens.com

Pre-school woes

I’m not the most organised of people when it comes to domestic matters. I leave things until the last minute on a regular basis. When it comes to deadlines, it seems I work best under pressure. There was one thing, however, that I didn’t slack on and that was enrolling the kids to an Irish language pre-school. I grew up on a Gaeltacht island in Donegal and Irish is my first language, so I want the kids to have the same grá for Gaeilge as I do. I try my best to speak to them in Irish at home and my husband, who’s not a native speaker, is also brushing up on his cúpla focal so that the kids can learn it. 

One of the first things I did when I moved here from Dublin was enrol my two children at the pre-school. George was only 9 months old at the time and he was due to start this coming September. I found out on Friday, however, that there is actually no room for him now. Despite the fact that his name has been on the list for years, and despite the fact that his older sister went there, the school is now prioritising children who want to send their kids there for two years now that the ECCE scheme has been extended. I’ve contacted other pre-schools in the area and they’ve all been full so far. I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen.

I’m not alone, it seems. An extra 60,000 kids are in need of childcare spaces after the regulations changed to introduce a second free pre-school year from September. Apparently pre-schools are struggling to keep up with the demand and many schools are changing their enrolment policy last minute. The introduction of an extra pre-school year was such great news when it came in the Budget last year, but now that it is being implemented come September, it seems that it’s people like George who are going to be impacted negatively. In a small town such as Clonakitly, there are only so many options available and it seems that at this late stage there is no room at the inn for him. I’ve no doubt that I’m not the only parent in Ireland scrambling at this stage to try and figure out what will work out  best for my child. I’m certainly not going to be forced into sending him to primary school a year earlier than planned. Maybe I could home school him and the government could pay me what they’d be paying a pre-school? Fat chance. And I’d make a horrible teacher. This whole saga reminds me of the free medical care for under 5s. It was a great idea until loads of GPs decided not to sign up for it. And I’ve heard loads of people complaining that they can never get a timely appointment anymore. For once it’d be nice if the Government put a bit of thought into their policies before rushing in. 

Au Dear...Revisited

We've had aupairs for the past three years now so as you can imagine, the news that we will have to register as employers, start paying tax, PRSI etc and pay them minimum wage, has come as a bit of a shock to me. I'm not quite sure what to make of it, to be honest. Don't get me wrong, I've heard the horror stories as much as the next person has, but I think our family (like many others) is being punished because of the actions of a few.

I work from home as a freelance journalist, blogger and media consultant. I set my own hours and I choose when I work and when I don't. I do all the school runs, myself or my husband help the eldest with her homework and on the rare occasion that any cleaning gets done in the house (have you seen my house?!) I'm the one who does it. The eldest two are in school from 9-1 and 9-1.30 and Tessa naps for about 3 hours in the morning. Often, I do my work during this time.


We also have an aupair. The kids love her, she's a kind, intelligent and engaging young woman from the United States. She's become part of our family. I cook for her every day and she eats with us. I've done her laundry, I've driven her to bus stations and to the pub, I've picked her up after nights out because it's been raining outside. She's been on holiday with us and has met my extended family. We've socialised together and sat down and watched a movie and had a few glasses of wine together. This week we've discussed starting to jog together in the evenings. She's not an employee. She's an extended member of the family who's around during the day to give me a hand with the kids. If I have work to do, she occupies the kids. If I'm not working, she might help out with household stuff like sorting out the kids' laundry, sweeping the floors or tidying up the never-ending mess that is the playroom. Or she might just sit with us and we chat and read stories to the kids. We've often gone to mother-toddler groups together - me to catch up with other local mums and her to chat with her aupair friends. We've had dance parties with the kids in the kitchen and she's told me all the gossip about what's going on with who in other families or with 'cute guys' around town. She's never had to scrub toilets, she gets weekends off, her friends are coming to visit from the States this week and she's taking a week and a half off to travel. We pay for holidays and if she works extra hours we give her extra money. If she babysits (she's done so once in the seven months she's been here) she gets days off or extra pocket money in return. Her regular pocket money is €100. Before Christmas, during a particularly gruelling work schedule for me, I didn't get to see the kids much at all (I still did the cooking, school runs etc) I paid her triple because she was more hands on with the kids than she normally was.

There's no way that I would have hired an aupair if I'd known I'd have to pay them over €9 per hour for working in my home. What's considered work? How do we quantify it? Is it only when she's doing something like sweeping the floor or putting the plates in the dishwasher after eating the dinner I've cooked for her? Is it when she's sitting chatting with us and singing songs with the kids as I'm sorting through laundry? Do we count the times in the evening when we're in the sitting room watching Scooby Doo? Do we restart the timer if she picks up a stray sock on her way to the kitchen after her official working day is over? What if she hangs up a load of laundry on a Saturday while we're out - does she get to charge overtime? What if she does something nice that I haven't asked her to do - like clean out the fridge while I'm gone for a walk with the kids? Should she bill for that too? I'm totally lost with it all. And as for the €54 that I'd be allowed to deduct for her room and board...She has the best room in the house. It's a converted attic, so she has an entire floor to herself, and she has a walk in wardrobe and gorgeous ensuite. She has access to our Netflix subscription, we got her a sim card for her phone, she has free wifi, no heating or electric bills, no food bills and I often pick up sweet treats for her as well. How is all of that worth just €54?

Our lovely aupair is going back to America in June. I'm already dreading it because she knows us so well and the kids adore her. We're already talking about her coming back to visit or wondering if we'll ever manage to get out to visit her in the States. I had planned on getting another aupair for when she's gone, but where do I stand now? There's no way I can afford to pay someone over €9 per hour, and with my work being so flexible, how will I find another minder that can slot into our day so easily and who can get to know the children so completely? These new rules need to be clarified. And while they're at it, maybe the Government could look at paying junior doctors and trainee teachers/nurses etc properly for the hours that they do? Or maybe they could re-examine the Job Bridge scheme?

Celebrating American Thanksgiving with our lovely aupair

Pizza Dough and my post-pregnancy body...

My children have taken to climbing on top of me every morning, pulling up my pyjama top and playing a game they've so kindly dubbed "pizza dough" on my belly. I'm sure you can picture it: they take turns - or sometimes all three get stuck in at the same time - at rolling and kneading my pale and dimply flesh, all whilst singing "pizza dough, pizza dough, pi-zza dough" at the top of their lungs. It's done wonders for my confidence, as you can imagine. So much so that for the first time since becoming a parent, I set foot inside a gym this week. Actually, that's a lie. I did sign up to one before my last baby was born but I never got around to going. That was €75 a month well spent. 

So this week, I bit the bullet. The new runners that I bought myself with great intentions during the January sales were dusted off and I found  pair of old leggings and nabbed one of my other half's old t-shirts. Off I went to a free taster class. How hard could it be? Pretty bloody hard, as I found out. And even typing this right now sends twinges of pain up my arms and the thoughts of climbing the stairs to go to bed is making me wonder whether sleeping on the couch will be an option tonight. It kicked my ass. 

One thing I did discover, however - and I mentioned this on my Facebook page this week and got quite a few private messages from women who could relate - is that I managed to make it through my workout without peeing my pants. I was delighted as it was one of the things that terrified me most about going. I've heard horror stories of women not being able to control their bladders properly after having kids and only discovering just how bad it was when they took up running or yoga or other exercise. So when the instructor handed me a kettle bell and told me to do some squats - something I've never done even pre-baby - I was terrified. "Please don't piss your pants, please don't piss your pants" was the mantra going through my head at the time. Discovering I'm not incontinent has been more rewarding than any six pack I may or may not develop if I do sign up to the course. If...

We hear a lot about "post baby" bodies - women are scrutinised constantly after becoming mothers...Criticised if they spring back into shape too quickly (she must not be spending any time with the baby if she's in the gym so much) or if she's "let herself go" and can't even be bothered to wear something other than a tracksuit. I've tried not to buy into it and to just enjoy motherhood and thank my body for safely carrying and sustaining my three kids. So in a week where we've had Mother's Day and International Women's Day and I've had my first successful gym session, I've just decided to *be*. I'm looking at the exercise as a way of letting off some steam and having a bit of time to myself in the evenings. If it puts and end to the pizza dough mornings, I'll just have to think of another game for the kids and I to play after our morning snuggles. And I might even start fitting into my old clothes again, which would be nice.

There's no fever as high as a man's fever...

THEY say kids are petri dishes for germs and that they turn your house into a living, breathing cess pit for all sorts of vileness over the winter months. This time last year, I’d have said the same – Maisie was being cared for outside the home for the first time since she was born and seemed to bring every bug going back to our gaff for shits and giggles. Literally. Shits more often than giggles though, as there’s nothing funny about diarrhoea. This year, however (and I may be jinxing myself here so I’m frantically touching wood between types) we seem to have escaped the school and pre-school germs. I mean of course there have been sniffles. But nothing that we can’t handle and versus last winter’s six vomiting bugs, we feel like we’re on the pigs back. 

There has been a bigger culprit this year though. And I think man germs may be worse than all the baby germs combined. Seriously. My other half has had two bouts of the winter vomiting bug and now he’s struggling with man flu. He passed one of his vomiting bugs onto the rest of us but of course no one suffered as much as he did. I’m sure any other women out there can relate: there’s no fever as high as a man’s fever, no vomit as projectile as the one that comes from a man’s gob. There’s no stomach cramp as agonising than the one in a man’s belly, no headache as achey, no nose as runny. The poor men…Last night himself retreated to the bed at 9.30, leaving me the remote and a room full of blissful silence. He seems better today but I have a feeling he’ll be struck down again later this evening, when the kitchen needs tidying after dinner maybe. The poor fellow. That man flu always strikes at the worst time.