Category Archives: blog

Posted in blog, children, toddlers by

​The Him 👤 has childproofed the kitchen.
Isn’t Him clever?
Princess can no longer pull open the cupboards or potentially hurt her little self with dangerous kitcheny things.💖
Princess is intelligent but not so intelligent that she can figure out the clever clips from Clevamamma.


Princess is a little bit safer now.😍😍
So is Mammy.
Mammy too is a little bit safer now.😐
Because Mammy is not quite intelligent enough to figure out the bloody clips either and so now Mammy also can no longer open ANY of the kitchen cupboards.
Mammy is only able to open the one cupboard that The Him left Clevasafe clip free, but that cupboard is full of tupperware and lunchboxes and other useless, but safe-for-her-to-play-with crap, that Mammy really COULD dump because she NEVER uses anyway.
So today, because Mammy’s kitschen is now babyproofed AND Mammyproofed, everyone will be eating the VERY limited contents of the FRIDGE and they’ll be eating out of tupperware and lunchboxes! 😂😂
😘😘😘

I am Sssssh I’m Reading Mum

Posted in blog, children, parenting by

​I actually can’t remember the last time I read a book.

An ACTUAL book.. you know..with a plot and characters and twists and resolutions and stuff?
Since Princess arrived, I’ve had the same book sitting beside the bed.  “Making it up as I go along” is a collection of essays and articles by the very wonderful Marian Keyes.  It’s perfect for busy mummies, because you can dip in and out of it and you don’t feel like you have to start over again if you haven’t lifted it in 6 weeks. It’s delightful.
But this week, seeing the trailers for The Girl on the Train ignited a little spark in me that I thought had disappeared.  I wanted to READ A BOOK.

Not a kindle. Not a screen… an ACTUAL book, made of PAPER and INK.
 From the minute I could read, I was EATING books.  Indeed, Mother often reminds me that I ACTUALLY loved to eat paper as a baby! 😂 But seriously, the parentfolks couldn’t save the children’s allowance fast enough to keep me in Roald Dahl.  In fact, Mr Dahl himself couldn’t write fast enough for me.  I remember waiting for the next book. Oh the utter joy when the bookshop in Derry or Strabane FINALLY got “Going Solo” in!  (Remember how the Norn-Iron shops ALWAYS had the cool stuff in 3 years before here?) 😂😂
Between Roald Dahl’s masterpieces, I lived in Narnia and often went off on adventures with The Famous Five.  Life was good in my little world. I honestly would have read the side of the cereal box. There were never enough words…never enough stories…never an end to where the words could take me.  
Reading sent me to places I still only dream about visiting.   It kept me company.  It taught me that you can escape ANYTHING, forget about EVERYTHING and travel the world with the most interesting people, from the comfort of a chair or under the covers of your “Rainbow Bright” Bed.
My favourite place in the world to read was at a hedge in one of Dad’s fields, where I used to hide from my 27 siblings 👭😂 with my book and a cushion and a bottle of diluted juice! It was close enough to home to hear Mum call us for dinner, but far enough away that I felt like I was off somewhere magical. (I still read there.  I’m writing this from that exact spot. It’s where we built our house. 💖💖💖)
And the amount that I read as a child MIGHT have influenced my career choice! 😂  And it’s why I read to the girls EVERY NIGHT. I can’t even threaten no story at bedtime, because it’d upset me more than Mini-Me! 😂

It breaks my heart when I meet teenagers who honestly have only ever read the books they had to read in school.  They see it as a chore…as a punishment even.  So when I can get them to actually ENJOY Shakespeare or a novel, or Heaven Forbid, POETRY, it makes me happy.  Do they all enjoy it? Probably not, but it’s not for the want of trying! 😂😂
Before I became a Mummy and TIME got sucked into some other dimension, I read lots.  Mostly Chick-Lit if I’m honest…much to annoyance of the Him.

 “How do you read that muck?” (He’s never gotten over Bridget Jones 2!)  

“I teach John Donne for a living. This ‘muck’ doesn’t require me to think!”

(The Him loved to read too.  But then he met Jim and Jim is so needy that The Him rarely has time to now read anything other than edumacational stuff.)
So The Girl on the Train? Have you read it?
Apparently it’s a superb piece. And I want to read it before I see the movie, so I’m sitting here sniffing the pages and a little part of me is 10 again… I’m off on an adventure. 
Train departing Platform 1…

I am Survived Hell and Back Mum

Posted in blog by

​I despise Peppa Pig.🐷

Yes, I said DESPISE!

No, I’m not going a bit too far.
She is a walking, talking, whining, obnoxious little lump of pork, with THE most annoying voice, who tells her Daddy he has a fat tummy, hangs up on her best friend when she is jealous and speaks to her brother George in the most patronising voice EVER! 

Peppa drives every Mummy, including Mummy Pig no doubt, to thinking about wine at 1pm.

She’s bratty and irritating and I TRY weekly (in vain) to BAN her from the tellybox in Smumble Hill.
BUT.

She and I do have ONE thing in common. 😐
We both love jumping in muddy puddles.
Yesterday I completed Hell & Back Hercules in Sligo.
Hell and Back is a 10k (12k really) obstacle course through muck and mud and rivers and all sorts of shit.  (It’s on a working farm🚜, so I do not exaggerate here.)
It.

Was.

AMAZING!!!!😀
The start was the worst part for me.  Talk about the gates of hell…😈😈😈
We were met with AN ICE-BATH where you had to step in and duck yourself under a row of tyres to get out the other side. I am not a fan of water and I surprised myself when I did it. I’d like to say it’s because I’m so brave…in reality, I’m just far too STUBBORN for my own good. 

I jumped in, took a deep breath, closed my eyes and pinched my nose and under I went. 
I emerged gracefully, like a dolphin leaping beautifully from the sea, without even a ripple behind me and landed like a gymnast…
Yeah.

My arse.
I remember as I emerge flailing and gasping like a fish that I wear contact lenses and so I have to get my eyes wiped dry before I can open them.  I’m trying to wipe them, but the stupid gloves I’m wearing are simply sloshing more water onto my face.  I know there are others trying to get out behind me so I have to get out quick.  There’s a steward shouting “Focus FOCUS!” at me. I’m shouting back another F word which I shall not repeat right now. He tries to help me out, but the next cretur behind me tumbles me as He emerges from the hell bath and I “graciously” FALL arse first out of the big container and ONTO “Focus Fecker”.  In his defence, he catches me, slaps me on the back and kindly and encouragingly screams “GO! GO! GOOOOO!”
Good start.  

But nothing could be worse for me than that start, so off we go!
We wade through rivers, jump over ditches, clamber over round bales, sink into muck, slide down hills, climb over nets and tree logs, fall into sludge, get stuck in the mud, lose shoes…
We get slapped in the face by rogue briars, and stung on the arse by PAINTBALLS as we run through forests.

We get ELECTROCUTED as we crawl under obstacles and SCRATCHED by barbed wire if we don’t keep our bums low to the ground.
We jump, leap, crawl, run, slip, slide and fall.
It’s like The Blair Witch Project combined with The Hunger Games … with a bit of Carry On Camping thrown in for good measure. 😂😂😂
The sounds are memorable.

We hear screams behind us and ominous cheers ahead of us. 

There’s some swearing…

 OK. Swearing us the language in Hell and Back. There is a LOT of swearing.
But mostly, laughter.

Glorious, bellyaching, snorting and snaughling laughter.

Strangers help strangers.

 We get encouragement from people who we’ve never met before. 

We get pulled over walls and pushed up slopes and no one really gives a hoot who owns the hand that has the misfortune of pushing your arse up or over! 
I surprised MYSELF with how easy I found most of it.  I’m fitter than I give myself credit for. I am good at jumping, not bad at falling 😂😂and I can lift my leg higher than I thought I could! 😂 Although the course was long and exhausting, I did it no bother. I think I even surprised the Him. 👤
But what I wasn’t prepared for, was the comeraderie.

28 of the Rushe Fitness gang went to Hell yesterday and I must thank them for being the nicest, kindest, funniest shower of head-the-balls that I’ve ever had the pleasure to spend a day rolling in the mud with!  

Even those who finished earlier, waited at the 10ft wall to help the rest of us over, and then we all ran through the finish line together. As a team.
It’s tough.

It’s 12km of mayhem, but it’s easily the MOST FUN I’ve had in a long time.

I was 10 again, running through the farm, getting stuck in muck and “accidentally” shocked by electric fencing.

We were grown ups on an adventure.

We were splashing in muddy puddles.
And at the end, I had the nicest Pulled Pork Bap I’ve ever tasted. 😈😈😈
Gotta love Peppa and her muddy puddles don’t ya? 🐷
Look at how shiny and white we were at the start?


But look at how happy we look at the end! 👇👇👇👇👇👇

Hope you all had a lovely weekend Ladybelles. I’m off for a bath full of Epsom salts…💖??💖💖💖
#hellandback #hellandback2016 #SMum #rushefitness #muddymummy #peppapig

I am Sign Lie Mum

Posted in blog, children, family, parenting by

​The joys of before she can read…
I’ve been hugely impressed by how much Mini-Me has picked up since starting school.  Her signature still looks like a roller coaster designed by a drunk Donald Trump, but she’s working on it. 
Her reading? 

I’m quite happy for it to stay where it is for now, because do you know something?

Once that little Dictator can read, S-Mum is fooooooked. 😐😐😐
Today, we went to Glenveagh National Park.

  (It truly is THE most exquisite place in Donegal. If you haven’t been for AGES, GO! We started going over on Sundays last year and are all slightly addicted to the place now.)
My FAVOURITE thing about Glenveagh is that there is ABSOLUTELY NO PHONE COVERAGE! 

AND EVEN BETTER…NO interweb access!
That’s right!

Nada!

It’s fricken FABLIS!

And therefore it’s perfect for family catchup time. 👭👤👪💑
Anyway!
I’ve referenced Mini-Me’s broken volume control before.

It’s not broken as such.

I don’t think she has one.

Actually, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have one.
She’s even loud in the wilderness.

Animals run and hide.

No parent has to use the words “Sssssh!” or “Stop shouting!” in a space as vast and HUGE as Glenveagh.

Except us.
Yes.  She’s THAT LOUD! 😂😂😂
Generally, as we walk down to the castle, over Troll Bridges and up mountains and onto the LellowBwickWoad, we let her shout away, but when we enter the castle grounds, we have to try to turn the volume down, just a little.

It never works.

It’s like the BIGNESS of the place makes her think we won’t hear her, so she shouts…and shouts…and shouts. And she doesn’t give a crap who hears her.
So reading.

Yes.

Mini-Me can not yet recognise any words other than her name and “Gruffalo”.

And today I realised just how handy it is that she can not yet read.
Today I used the “Sign lie”.

You know what I’m talking about.

Don’t pretend you don’t…

You’ve all done it, admit it. 😈😈😈
As we entered the grounds and I was telling her to “be a little bit more quiet now”,  we passed this sign.👇👇👇

And I said “Look! You must be quiet. The sign says so.”
Because, this sign says “No shouting please. Be quiet in the castle gardens.”


Can you see that?

It does doesn’t it? 😂
“OK Mammy.”
And that was it.  She actually did stop shouting. 

For a few minutes at least.
 I was suddenly very aware that my time of having the “sign lie” will end quite soon.

Darn her lovely teacher! 😅

And so, I must use it at every opportunity until it does.
Bad Mammy!
Hope you all had a Stupendous Sunday.

Xxx

I am Smashed Cup Mum

Posted in blog, children by

​What do you get when you cross a cup and a bin lorry?

Let me tell you a story on this Fablis Friday evening…
Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Princess Mini-Me.  One day, OVER a year ago, Granny brought Mini-Me to a pottery cafe.  

Mini-Me painted a cup, much like the one in the image below.  As Mini-Me was just about to become a Big Sister, they decided that the cup would hereforth be known as “Big Sister cup”.


Cute so far eh?
Mini-Me brought her new cup home and for 3 whole months, the Big Sister Cup sat in the cupboard, where Mini-Me pretty much ignored it, apart from the odd day when she took a notion to ask for it.
Then, one fateful, cursed day, Mini-Me dropped the cup and it smashed into 3 million Smithereens, all over the kitchen floor. Cinderella’s glass slipper didn’t have a look in and THIS fairy Good-GOD-mother, didn’t have a CHANCE of fixing it.  
And so the Big Sister Cup went to the big cupboard in the sky.  OK, I exaggerate.  It went INTO the bin, AWAY in the Bin Lorry and OUT of our minds…


A few months later, it was mentioned again out of the blue.
We drove past a Bin Lorry. She started to shout “Follow THAT BIN LOWEEEEE!” and “BIG SISTER CUP!”

We laughed (Hahahaha!) and hugged her and gently explained, once again, that the cup was BROKEN and it was GONE.

And they all lived happily ever after…

Until this evening.
8 MONTHS LATER…As the Poor Queen S-Mum collected Mini-Me from school, she was summoned by the very lovely teacher, who informed her that Mini-Me had cried for 45 minutes after breaktime.  She was VERY upset apparently, and try as she might, Teacher could NOT figure out what had caused the Tootsy One’s meltdown.

“She kept talking about a cup for her sister?” said Teacher.

“Huh?” said S-Mum.  (Not a single clue.)

“And something about a bin lorry?”

(Penny drops.  Oh. DEAR. GOD…) 

“Aaaaaah! Darling, did you see a Bin Lorry at Breaktime?” ventured S-Mum. 

“Yush Mammy and I wanted my Big sister cup back…”
Well I won’t go into the verbal diahorrea that began projecting from my mouth to try to explain to Teacher why my Daughter had FALLEN APART at the sight of a bin lorry.  😐😐😐
Because, it’s just too fricken weird and too hilariously ridiculous and is YET another example of how S-Mum may get used to feeling COMPLETE MORTIFICATION AND CONFUSION for the foreseeable future.

It seems to come with the territory.

  It should be part of the instructions on the Pregnancy test… “Pee on stick, Wait for line, Get used to being confused about EVERYTHING.” 😂😂
So what do you get when you cross a cup with a bin lorry?
An ABSOLUTE TRAUMA which will continue to cause Mini Meltdowns WELL into the teenage years apparently.
I smell grapes.🍷🍷🍷
Happy Friday Lovelies.💖

Watch out for the Bin Lorries. 😂😂😂