It’s Rushe To Raise Time Again!

SAVE THE DATE

Sunday December 1st at 1pm

The S-Mum Blog and Rushe Fitness are delighted to announce that this year’s annual “Rushe to Raise” fundraiser will be the classic favourite, THE GRINCH, starring Jim Carey.

Myself and Himself are very much looking forward to our annual fundraiser, in association with Century Cinemas, to raise much needed funds for two very deserving local causes.

This year, all proceeds will go to the Donegal Hospice and to the Paediatric Ward at Letterkenny University Hospital.

Come and kickstart the Festive season on December 1st with a funfilled family afternoon and help us raise money for these incredible causes.

Tickets will cost €10 and will go on sale at Rushe Fitness next Sunday, the 3rd of November, between 1pm and 3pm.

You can reserve your tickets by messaging Maria or Emmet on social media or by emailing maria@rushefitness.ie

(PLEASE NOTE: Tickets are non-refundable and must be paid for and collected by 3pm on Sunday, 3rd November.)

Hope to see you there!

Maria & Emmet
🎅🤶🎅🤶🎅🤶🎅

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Stop It.

Don’t.

Just Don’t.

I’ve written about this before but it seems that it’s like non-parents parking in mother and baby spots, or people feeling the need to comment on how your baby is fed; it doesn’t go away!

STOP ASKING PEOPLE when they’re going to start a family or going to ‘go again’.

I know people don’t mean any harm when they insist on telling you that you should “be going again” or “getting a move on”, and yet often, these innocently thrown statements can stab a couple through the heart.

Firstly, why do people think it’s OK to assume that everyone wants to have more Babies?

Or actually, even A baby for that matter?

Many people make the conscious decision that parenthood is not for them; that they are quite fulfilled and happy as they are.

You do you Boo.

Then there are the people who, no sooner have you popped out little Charlie or Nancy, but they’re telling you it’s time to get working on Jeremiah or Jezebel.

Why, oh WHY, do people think that it’s OK to ASK why a couple aren’t “going for number 3″… or 4, or 8?

And can I ask why people think it’s acceptable to write under someone’s FB or Instagram post of a photograph of themselves, such utter nonsense as “Oooooh is that a Baby Bump I see?” or “Am I seeing some news coming?” or “Is congratulations in order?”

THIS is PARTICULARLY not OK.People who write such twatwittery should be locked in a room with Boris and a can of hair gel and not allowed out until one or both of them understands Brexit.

And as for the people who tease a newly married couple, or indeed ANY childless couple, about ‘getting a move on’, well that is just a whole other level of silly beggar.

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Here are 6 reasons to NOT comment on a couple’s NON pregnant state:

1. It’s none of your business.

2. You don’t know their situation. You don’t know if they’ve had a miscarriage recently. People don’t generally go around announcing that do they? In fact, we good Irish still fall into the trap of thinking that we aren’t allowed to tell anyone until the sacred 12 week mark, and so when things go wrong, couples often have no one to share their grief or help them through it.

3. 1 in 6 Irish couples currently struggle with fertility. How do you know if the person you are innocently teasing about “going for another one” or “filling that big house” isn’t one of those couples?

You don’t know if they’re trying EVERYTHING and being constantly heartbroken.

You don’t know if she’s injecting herself daily, undergoing physical and emotional and mental turmoil to try to help matters.

You don’t know if he’s struggling with the fact that his sperm count is low.

You don’t know if they’ve put every penny they have (and don’t have) into rounds of treatment, over and over again.

You don’t know how deep your playful, well-intentioned words can cut. And oh my Gosh, do they cut deep…

4. Not EVERY couple WANTS to have a baby, or another Baby. For their own reasons. That they don’t have to explain to you.

And when a couple tells you that they’re all done or quite happy with their lot thank you, do NOT raise your eyebrow in a smug and all-knowing, “we’ll see” or tut at their ‘nonsense’. You’re in murky waters now and you need to paddle back Dear. Paddle fast…

5. Maybe that couple are in the process of adoption, or surrogacy. Maybe that couple are at breaking point, physically and emotionally and maybe…

6. …it’s NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!

Of course people mean no harm when we joke about “filling that big car” or “getting a wee brother for Nancy”, but like all things Parent related, innocent comments and harmless questions can cut through people like a bolt of lightning.

We shouldn’t comment. End of.

So next time you find yourself about to joke or jest or ask someone about the state of their baby situation, consider this: If they asked you about the state or your uterus, or indeed your sperm situation, how would you feel?

Would you be comfortable if that person sighed and answered with “Well actually, we’re on our third round of IVF and we’re emotionally and physically exhausted and I’d love to tell you about it”?

Or if they said, “Well actually, we’ve had three miscarriages in the last 18 months” or “Well no, becuase we’re pretty sure we won’t be together this time next year.”

If you would be able to deal with those answers, you possibly know the person well enough to know not to ask anyway.

If not, don’t ask and don’t comment.

 

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Simples.

Blue Peter Badge Required…

Does anyone have any spare Blue Peter badges lying around?

Anyone?

Because apparently I should be doling them out on the hour, every hour, today.

Instead I have resorted to hissing things like “Oh you did did you?” and “Yeah like I do EVERY FUCKING DAY!”, (under my breath obviously.)

Until approximately 5pm when we pulled up outside a supermarket… When Mammy may or may not have LOST the fricken PLOT.

You see, we had driven to the supermarket in the silent understanding that we needed to acquire foodstuff for the dinner.

This genius deduction arose from Daddy asking “Did you get anything in for the dinner?” to which Mammy answered “I don’t know, did YOU get anything in for the dinner?”

You see, the fridge is empty. And quite frankly, so is Mammy. I’m burnt out and tired and so, having clawed my way to the weekend, am happily rejoicing in the NOTHINGNESS and UNTHINKINGNESS that cometh with spending a weekend with my beloved family and my beloved Husband…

Having made every decision and organised all the everything for the past, oh, I don’t know, eleventy fucking billion YEARS, Mammy mistakenly thought that it MIGHT just be possible for someone ELSE to figure out what the feck we might eat for “the dinner” for ONE NIGHT.

Mammy, it turns out, was mistaken.

Up pulls Himself to the supermarket.
He stops the car and says “Go on”, indicating that Mammy should pop in and pick up something.

“Sorry what?” growls Mammy.
“Go ahead. I’ll wait here with Princess.” (Snoring in the back seat)
“What exactly am I Going in for?” snarls Mammy. (warning warning…)
“The dinner?” answers Daddy, a slow realisation dawning on his handsome face that he might just have pulled the pin form the grenade.
“And what exactly will “the dinner” consist of?” hisses Mammy
“I don’t know” answers Daddy
“Well if YOU don’t know, how the FUCK should I know?”
“You were the one who said go to the shop.” he tries, knowing already that he is not winning this one…

Calculating that Mammy’s current level of hormental is probably not worth the weeks of sleeping with one eye open that may follow should he continue on this tirade of fuckwittery, he concedes that he shall go into the supermarket.

And so the valiant gallant knight in fucking Underarmour that he is, dismounted his trusty steed, puffed up his manly chest and announced that he was “going in then”…

And in he did go. (accompanied by Mini-Me who knows to supervise incase he buys a chainsaw to go with the power washer.) And out he did come with a bag of sustenance with which to feed his family, muttering something about having to “do everything”…

Which Mammy ignored as Mammy had had a full 8 minutes of quiet time, to take deep breaths and wonder just how I could go about getting a box of Blue Peter Badges for the fucking hero that he is…

(I do love him really though.)
*(may be slightly exaggerated for entertainment purposes. :))

The Unspoken Reality of (most) Hotel Stays with Kids.

‘Let’s stay in a hotel’ they said.

‘Let us pack up our minions and go on an adventure and stay in a lovely family room in a hotel.  It shall be fun!’ they said.

Forgetting momentarily that

  1. Most “Family rooms” are simply big rooms with two beds.

  2. Children do not automatically behave themselves when in hotels.

  3. Scolding and voices must be conrolled by Mammy and Daddy as whatever frowning might be done at the chaos caused by minions, more frowning will be done if Mammy or Daddy use their usual shouty voice.

  4. Children, regardless of being up since 5am and walking the entirity of Dublin zoo after a 3 hour drive, shall NOT be “so knackered that they’ll conk out straight away” (Me. This was MY fuckwittery. Not Him’s in fairness.)

  5. Children who are used to their own rooms, will either complain incessently about the sibling being “on their side” or cackle incessently together, or both at the same time, for no apparent reason other than to drive Mammy and Daddy up the bathroom wall…

  6. Because the bathroom is where Mammy and Daddy invariably end up EVERY SODDING TIME WE STAY IN A HOTEL with the kids.  Daddy lies in his clothes, in the empty bath, with his phone, Mammy on a cushion of towels with a glass of grapes and, quite often, a book.  Professionals I tell you!      *We learned after the first time to treat ourselves to a nice, full, cold drink at the bar before going up to do the bedtime dance, because there’s not much to do in a bathroom while awaiting your feral one’s to concede to the long overdue sleep in the bedroom, is there?

  7. After 45 minutes of complaining and cackling simultaneously, with random hisses of “Go to sleep!” and “If I have to come into that room” from OUR side of the bathroom door, children will eventually have to be placed by Daddy into separate beds.  After a few minutes, they will go to sleep, usually lying horizontally across the pillows, leaving Mammy and Daddy to wonder where the hell they are going to sleep, not that they can finally remove themselves from the bathroom.

  8. Parents will debate whether to poke the bear…as in try to replace small child into the bed beside her sister, risking said child wakening again… or to simply climb into a bed each, beside the horizontal sleeping feckin cherubs.

  9. Parents will not poke the bear…figuratively, physically, metaphorically or other.

  10. All members of the family shall be asleep by 8.45pm, with both parents sporadically wakening throughout the night to check that miniest minion has not fallen out of the 8 foot high bed, or indeed wet it, just for the craic.

 

Don’t forget to follow me on all my Social Media Platforms.

Mammy

Beech Hill Country House – a Review Peace & Tranquility on the Edge of the City

We recently had the pleasure of being invited to spend Easter Weekend at Beech Hill Country House, just outside Derry.

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The beautiful Beech Hill Country House

Nestled in the hillside of Ardmore, Beech Hill is a hidden haven of peace and tranquillity, despite being only a stone’s throw from the main Derry to Belfast road.  It is quite literally on the cusp of the city and only a 20 minute drive from our home.

Recently taken over by Sam Harding, Barry Kemp and Adam Kemp, the new owners of country house have vowed to turn it into Northern Ireland’s best four-star hotel.

The 32-acre estate has a rich history which is beautifully catalogued and shown both inside the hotel and on plaques throughout the forests; it was taken over by US Marines during WWII as a base for soldiers, before being transformed into a hotel in 1989.

What is a grand and stately building, filled with history and character, is being gently moulded into a modern hotel to compete with any of its contemporaries.  The natural beauty of the grounds combined with the quaint decor is indeed stately and classic, and yet the restaurant and bedrooms are modern and fresh.     What is also traditional and classic, is the staff and how they interact with the guest; polite, helpful and professional.

We brought the two girls along for a family switch-off and catch-up weekend!

Check in was easy and friendly.  Our family room brought us on a trek through the many little corridors and rooms, all well signposted and filled with history and photographs.  A lift brought us to the first floor and then a small flight of stairs brought us to the room.  If you had a buggy however, there is plenty space to safely leave it if you don’t want to carry it to the room.

The family room was huge!  A massive double bed, with a single bed and a fold-out bed for the toddler, these beds were incredibly comfortable.  There was a sofa and resting chairs in front of the TV and lots of space for a family of 4. 

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The bathroom, gleamingly clean, had a bath which is so essential when travelling with kiddies.

The forests provided a beautiful playground for the four of us.  We spent over two hours running and playing on the grounds before dinner and another hour on Sunday morning in a completely different part of the forest.

We had booked dinner for 6.30pm.  The restaurant is bright and has gorgeous views over the little lake and gardens.  Again, the staff were incredibly pleasant and efficient.

The food was beautiful.  I had mussels to start; a subtle portion as opposed to the unnecessarily huge bowl that is so often served.  I then had pork belly, which was served with a perfect balance of flavours and again, was a perfect size.  Himself had a meat terrine to start, and then the steak, perfectly cooked and seasoned.  Both were served with potato and veg.   Dessert was sorbet for Him and a cheeseboard (yes, as usual) for me.  It didn’t disappoint.

I was particularly impressed by the kids’ menu and the freshness of the food served to them.  No beige frozen or processed food for the kiddies at Beech Hill.  The chicken tenders were obviously freshly battered in breadcrumbs and the burger would have been acceptable on any adult menu!  The hand-cut chips still had skin and the girls devoured their meals.

I would love to see some crayons and colours for kids next time we visit.  In fairness, we managed over two hours with the girls, with no crayons or books or screens! They were quite happy to sit and chat and eat with us.  Mini-Me loved feeling grown up when her food was served on proper plates, the same as ours.

They were full of stories from the forest and were so suspiciously well behaved that we even ventured into the gorgeous bar for a drink before bed.  Special shout out to Aaron, the lovely barman who really knew his stuff.  He was able to recommend a beer to Himself and proceeded to explain the difference between different types of draft.  When I asked for an Espresso Martini, he asked if I’d like it bitter or sweet and was able to tell me the history of where the instapopular cocktail originated.

My favourite meal as always was breakfast; I get very excited about breakfast!

I love the selection and variety of fruit and cereal and baked treats, but what particularly excites me is when there is a menu and someone brings you a lovely plate of cooked joy!  I am not a fan of having to plate up and serve myself.  Maybe it comes from working as a waitress for many years, but when I am out for any meal, I truly appreciate it being brought to me at the table. This is unusual in hotels nowadays, but a definite tick in my book.

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We had the most relaxed 24 hours.  And to only have to drive a short distance to find such a beautiful escape, means that we will certainly be back.  Beech Hill House is wonderful for a family switch-off.  The TV in the room didn’t get switched on and the girls were so happy exploring the forests and the corridors.

It would also be perfect for a romantic sneakaway or a girly break.  I’m looking forward to visiting again many times and to seeing how the new owners develop and grow this beautiful estate.

 

Mammy and her family were invited to review the hotel.  As always however, Mammy was under no obligation to write anything, maintains her honesty and all views and comments are my own.