Category Archives: family

I am S is for Special – World Downs Syndrome Day

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It’s World Downs Syndrome Day. ❤❤

 

It’s a day to celebrate the extra chromosome that makes some people just a little bit more special.
One of the first images I saw on Facebook today was of my good friend Lee Gooch and his handsome little man Noah.  

And oh! How it melted my heart.

Not simply because of the angelic and perfect little face of the wee man, but because of the smile on Daddy’s face.

  This 👇👇 my friends is the smile of true pride, of true joy…of true and utter love. 💙💙


And it melts my heart, not only because of the joy it brings, but also because of the memories it provokes in me.
Lee and his family are blessed. 

I know this, because my family too were blessed.

A child with Downs Syndrome isn’t just their extra chromosome.

A child with Downs, is special.
Special in every sense of the word.
My own aunty Carmel was special. 
She was beautiful, mischievous and intelligent. She held more love in the tip of her finger than ANYONE I have ever known. She was witty, bold and an absolute rascal, loving nothing more than to get the craic going with whoever was visiting. She loved to dress up, adored The Rose of Tralee and loved to dance.  Every single person who walked through the door of my Grandparents’ home, fell head over heels in love with her. She was the most head-strong, determined and fearless Ladybelle I’ve ever met.  She kept our family on our toes. 


And she taught me many lessons.

The main one being that we are all different and that different is good. 
I remember being in the shopping Centre with her and my other Aunty when I was about 5. Other kids were staring at Carmel. It was the first time I realised that she was different because I suddenly became aware of other people’s reactions to her. Her reaction to one teenage boy who stopped to look at her? She stuck out her tongue at him, laughed her hearty laugh and waved at him mischievously as we pushed her past.😂😂
 There and then, I was proud of her. Even at that young age, she taught me that you must NEVER let anyone bring you down, that you must be YOU, and that there IS no other You to be.
She was perfect.

She was the strongest woman I ever had the pleasure of knowing.

She was more brave and more caring and more wonderful than I could ever put into words and I miss her every day.
She was indeed my Special Aunty, but for so many more reasons than her Downs Syndrome.

Special doesn’t even start to describe her or the love that she gave or more importantly, the love that she demanded.

Love.

Pure and true…

Like the love on Lee’s face in that photograph and every day.
 A family who have been blessed with an extra chromosome, know a love that is beyond words.
So there. 

I never thought I’d write about my precious Aunty Carmel, but today, I decided it was time. I miss her every day and she lives on in our hearts and in our memories. Knowing and loving her is responsible for so much of who I am today.
And I send my love and respect to every single family who are fighting every day for the rights of Downs Syndrome children, and who are helping to make people realise that the “S” in DS should not stand for “Syndrome”…

It stands for “Strong”.

It stands for “Smile”.

and it stands for Special.
#worlddownsyndromeday #smile #love #special 
(Lee has given me permission to post this pic. Thanks Lovely. And kisses to Noah.)
Follow me on Facebook @the.s.mum and instagram @the.s.mum 

I am Stay Smiling at You Mum

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To my Darling Mini-Me

You stopped me in my tracks this morning. I walked past your bedroom door. You were standing in front of your mirror, brushing your hair, with your little sister watching you silently. You had no idea that you were being watched. You were beautiful. Suddenly, you looked so different; so grown up. The little smile on your face as you gently combed melted me.  You were smiling because you were happy;  Happy with what you saw.  Content with your reflection.  Beautiful and perfect and blissfully content with how you look.

You caught me watching and stopped, mid-stroke.

“Am I gawjus Mammy?” you asked before continuing to brush.

“You really are Darling” I answered, but you were already back at it, not really caring what I said.  Because you already knew that you are.

And indeed you are.

You’re beautiful.

For you, Dear Daughter, I have many hopes.  One of my main hopes is that you get to smile that little smile while looking at your reflection for as long as possible.  Because there will come a day, when you will look at yourself just a little bit differently.  You will compare yourself to your friends. You will look at the images online and in print and wonder why you don’t look like they do.  You will suddenly find yourself criticising your reflection, rather than enjoying it.

And it breaks my heart.

If you’re anything like your Mammy (and we both know you are!), you will deal with wonky teeth, you will be tortured by bad skin well into your adult years, and you will probably wait impatiently for the boobs that everyone else seems to have!  I can save you a lot of trouble right now my Darling.  You’ll probably still be waiting as you approach 40, but by then, you’ll be glad that they never arrived!

Life is cruel and society can be one savagely bitchy playground.  If I can give you one thing, it will be the ability to be comfortable in your own skin.  You may wish your teeth were straighter or that your skin was blotch free or that your nose was smaller, but you will know that you are you, and that it is these little features that make you stand out, that make you individual, that make you perfect.

And I do my best.  Yes, I have days where I feel yucky, but I have finally reached the point of contentment where I care only what one person thinks about how I look:  and that person is ME.

Me, Myself and I.

You might not realise this, but I purposely take off my makeup after work in the kitchen so that you can see that it’s OK to not wear any.  When you ask me why I am putting on mascara, I try to answer that “I sometimes like to wear it”.  I’ll play dress up and makeup with you because I want you to know that it is something that women enjoy.  But I’ll also let you see me going into town without even brushing my hair, because I want you to get into the habit of not giving a crap if people don’t like what you’re wearing or how you look.

I’ll let you wear tights that do NOT match your dress if you want to, because in no time at all, society will be dictating what you wear anyway. And you will not see me standing on scales.  You will see me train but you’ll not hear my swearing under my breath at the exercises! Any issues you are going to get about your beautiful self, I do hope that they do not come from me.

I will do anything for you both, you know that.  I care for you.  I feed you. I look after you.  And I promise that I will also help you to always think you are gawjus.  I will tell you you’re beautiful, even though some parenting “experts” tut at young girls being told they’re pretty.  Nonsense.

I will always tell you you’re beautiful, because there’ll be enough bitches who revel in making you feel that you aren’t.

So you keep smiling that perfect little smile my Gawjus girl, because there is nothing more beautiful than a smile.

And there is no one more beautiful to me, than YOU.

All my love,

Mammy.

xxxxxxxx

I am Share Positive Birth Stories Mum

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​I had a conversation yesterday with my friend who is due her first baby at Easter.
She’s glowing and beautiful and excited, but she’s frightened beyond belief.
She was telling me how terrified she is and how she’s had to stop reading forums because the horror stories she’s read. 

And she’s right.
As with all areas of life, we tend to tell the dramatic or nightmare stories of childbirth, before we share the positive ones.
Giving birth is terrifying whether it’s your first time or your 6th, but it is also the most natural thing in the world, isn’t it? Our bodies are designed for it.  Women have been giving birth for millions of years. And yet, it’s also perfectly natural to be completely terrified. It’s new. It’s unpredictable. It’s painful.

Usually, unless there are complications or you run into difficulties, most Mammas manage to bring their little minions into the world without too much drama. 💙❤
So let’s help my lovely Glammy Mammy out and share some birth stories WITHOUT the horror stories.
I’ll begin…
Both of my births were by scheduled C-Section, for medical reasons and well called by my Consultant. Both were painful, with their own complications and recovery, but both resulted in birth.  
And as much as no one wants surgery on top of childbirth, I have to say that both were calm and positive and (dare I say), enjoyable, and that I was looked after beautifully by the midwives at Letterkenny University Hospital.
And as unwell as I felt, and as terrified as I was, and as painful the recoveries, both were worth every single ache and pain.💖💖
So there you go.  Nothing overly eventful Thank god.
(And if you’re currently wanting to slap me and grumbling about how crap YOUR experience was, let me clarify that my last one was so “enjoyable” that I’ve sworn NEVER to do it again, but I AM focusing on the positives here and I salute you Mamma. You are a Goddess and you are Supermum, but let’s not terrify her anymore than she already is. 😘)
Did you have a positive birth experience? If you did, share it below and help me convince my Buddy that it’s not all rips and stitches and poo and pain…
If you’d like to share your positive story, feel free. You can pop over to my facebook page @the.s.mum to share on my daily blog there.
Come on Mamma Squad.
Let’s spread the love this Valentine’s.

❤❤❤❤

I am Screaming Leaving Granny Mum

Posted in blog, children, family, tantrums, Uncategorized by

​It is sooooo  Grapejuice o’clock on this wonderfully unfeckeuped feck-it-up Friday.
I was doing well you know…
I was doing SO well that I smugly thought I’d get through a full day without shouting or scolding or being a generally horrible Hell-Beast to my little angel.
 I nearly did it…
And THEN she pulled her usual stunt in “Gwanny’s” that leaves HER in dramatic floods of tears, ME ready for the Nut house and my poor Mother torn between remembering what it was like to be mortified in front of HER Mother, and wanting to steal the Demonchild from me and to raise her in the non-shouting, calm and much more cushioned safety of Granny’s house.
Imagine a Disney Fucking princess as she is dragged, sobbing, from her Prince, hand outstretched and a sad and melancholic expression on her tear stained face, mouthing the name of her lost one, in slow motion of course…
Imagine the child in The Railway Children or such orphanesque tale, watching their only relative as the train pulls away from the platform, knowing that they’ll never see them again…
Imagine the scene in The Hunger Games where Catniss is about to be catapulted up into the Arena and the baddies attack her BFF right before her eyes.

There’s nothing she can do.
She is helpless.

It is terrible.
Now imagine the Gobshite who is causing the drama.  

That would be me.  😭
And poor Granny is witness to the atrocities.  She wants to scoop the little angel into her arms and hush her and sooth her and tell her it’ll be OK and that OF COURSE she doesn’t HAVE to go home with Mean old Mammy and OF COURSE she can stay with Granny for ever and ever and ever and ever cause Granny will NEVER get cross like mean old Mammy.
She wants to.
But of course she doesn’t. 
She helps poor, mental, wits-end Woman put the obviously  abused, unloved and despairing child in the car, telling her she’ll see her tomorrow and to be a good girl for Mammy.  It breaks her heart no doubt.  
The girlchild is so convincing that a little part of ANY witnessing adult would possibly consider ringing fucking Childline to report Cruel, Uncaring, Crazy Mammy.

But.

Granny has been here before.

Granny has been on the other side of it.  

(Obviously with much less dramatic daughters, given the three angelic girlchildren she raised…😂😂😜😜)

Ans as much as Granny does indeed want to save her little girl from the Scary One for a night…she also knows that her little girl HAS to take the scary one home! 😂😂😂
This scene pretty much kills both of the grown ups, but they BOTH know that by the time Madam TurboTwat gets to her own house, (a whole 76 yards away), she’ll have completely forgotten the dramatic ordeal which evil Mammy has just subjected her to by asking her to put on her fucking boots to go home. 
The 90 second drive home will be sufficient for her to completely FORGET her violent and impressively fucking MENTAL protest in Granny’s street.  She shall wipe her tears away, skip in the door and ask “Is scooby Doo on?” before demanding a “cuppa mulk pwease” and then informing Mammy that she is her “best wee mammy” as she is handed said cuppa fecking milk.
And Mammy will stand at the door, watching her in disbelief, completely fooked and wishing that there was some time machine that would whizz her forward half an hour so she could sit on her arse and recover her sanity with some grapes.
Cheers Dollies.

🍷🍷🍷

#callthemammypolice #notathingwrongwithher #fml

​I am Survival List Mum

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“Surviving Christmas,” “Christmas Survival Tips for the Working Mum”, “How to Survive Christmas”…

I googled this last night.

Some of the “advice” online is nothing short of HILARIOUS.  I fear most of it may have been written by one of the following:

🎄Mary of the Poppins herself

🎄Someone without kids

🎄A Man… 😂😂😂
Here are some of the best pieces I gleaned, followed by my honest and polite response: Buckle up Bitcheepoos…😙😉
1.  “Be Prepared.”

No shit Sherlock.  As opposed to waking on Christmas Eve and remembering to buy a turkey and gifts? Seriously…
2. “Buy gifts throughout the year and wrap them as you go.”

Now this one I can partially agree with, except S-Mum’s would read “Buy gifts throughout the year, put them somewhere safe and then forget all about them until the week before Christmas, when you have all the gifts bought and then open a box or bag or suitcase and find all the PawPatrol jigsaws you bought in July.  Or even better, find them when you’re putting the decorations away in January!”
3. “Choose a theme for your gifts to add that personal magic”.

Here’s a theme.  Shut the fuck up.  Most of us just about manage to buy for everyone we have to buy for.  And if you’re anything like me, you’ll remember someone on Christmas Day and freak out with guilt and embarrassment and mumble some crap about it not being delivered on time before popping to the loo to order on Amazon with next day delivery. (But if you doooooo want to add a personal touch and be remembered fondly by your loved ones, put glitter🦄 into all of the cards and gifts so that their floors get clattered and you are applauded for spreading the magic of Christmas. Go ahead, I dare you! 😂😂)
4. “Place delicate or expensive ornaments on higher branches.”

Ok this one, I can empathise with.  Especially if you have toddlers or dogs. 🐶But in reality, put delicate or expensive decorations in the ATTIC and leave them there until 2023.
5. “Ice the Christmas Cake 2 weeks before Christmas”

Or in real life, remember on the 23rd that for some reason you need a Christmas cake and either pop to M&Spensive or decide not to bother with cake this year. Either way, it doesn’t really matter does it?
6. “Decorating the home should be a family occasion followed by a family meal.”

Oh really? Should it really? If by “family meal” you mean a bottle of wine after the kids have all gone to bed, then yes…yes this is true. 😅 Decorating the home is, for most, a painful and highly stressful process which generally takes more than one afternoon and involves tears, mess and even declarations of divorcing children and husbands.  If you can get the actua tree up in one go, save yourself the stress and put everything else up by yourself, on your own, without the rest of the family annoying your head.  After bedtime is ideal.😘😉
7. “Keep alcohol locked away.”

Out of the reach of children yes, but keep the key in your frilly fecking apron.
8. “Stock up on essentials:  batteries, bread, milk and cream.”

Why there is no gin or wine on this list, is beyond me.
9. “Go Christmas Shopping without children. Bring a drink and a snack with you.”

Who the hell wrote this?  If you can get someone to mind the minions for an hour, OF COURSE, go Christmas shopping without them. Have a gin and eat chocolate.
10. “Create a cleaning schedule for your home to keep on top of things this Christmas”.

There aren’t enough swear words for this one. A Cleaning Schedule? Who the hell has time to write a cleaning schedule? In the time it would take me to write a cleaning schedule, I would probably have half the cleaning done.  If you can keep floors lego free and counters salmonella free, you’re doing great! You deserve a treat. 💚
There were a few little nuggets in fairness.  Some of the better advice included “Scale down your expectations”, “Invent your own traditions”, and “Give yourself a break.”

Another gem that I completely agree with is “Buy disposable baking trays”: I stock up on aluminium turkey trays every year and everything is cooked in them.  It’s a life saver!


The lists and articles largely did what they always do however; put undue pressure on already busy parents to stress themselves to create a picture perfect Christmas card-esque scene that in reality, is nonsense.

Do what YOU want to do.  Buy what YOU can afford.  Cook what YOU like to eat. If you don’t like mince pies, don’t fricken buy them. If you want to let your kids open all of the presents on Christmas morning, do it!  If you like to wrap all the everything, do so.  If you don’t, DON’T!

It’s that simple.  We don’t need a survival list to survive Christmas, we need to give ourselves a break and enjoy it, because if you take a second to stop and look around you, often in the midst of lost presents and superfluous food shopping, you can see a little bit of magic without having to buy it.
What is your favourite “Survival tip” and why?