Emerald Expectations

the dirty faced child

2010-07-19T15:03:00.002+01:00

Dun Laoghaire pier January 2010

2010-03-08T20:55:00.002Z

Livin the good life

2009-11-25T22:38:00.003Z

just rediscovered this picture. I love it because it hums with the energy of a lot of my afternoons here in Dublin

Singin

2009-11-17T17:16:00.002Z

Heidelberg Herbst 09 - The Video

2009-10-12T13:38:00.002+01:00

Experimentational Cinema

2009-09-24T18:20:00.002+01:00

WE'RE ALL DRINKING THE JUICE

2009-03-08T17:18:00.003Z

My latest obsession is juicing. I've done this before, but with less enthusiasm and with a really inefficient juicer. I went out and bought a really great one - from the Juicemaster, no less. I read one of his books before, and thought they would have a good list of juicers on the site. It turned out his recommended one was cheapest on his site, AND you get a free book and DVD, so what the heck. You may laugh (or snarf as we say around here) but I think a healthy dose of motivational speaking definitely helps when you commit to living mostly on juice every day for a while.

I make them for my husband, who enjoys them and proceeds to frying his sausages. This morning I initiated my six year old, who is now totally enamored of pineapple juice. The toddler already loves my horrible looking green juice, and after the pineapple success, six year old tried it too. She liked it, and after downing a cup shouted, "Now we're ALL drinking the juice!"

The Toddler in Question

2009-01-21T20:54:00.006Z

Inauguration Day

2009-01-20T20:38:00.003Z

Today was the day of the traditional ceremony where the US president on the way out hands the torch to the guy coming in. I usually do not bother watching this; being that I am well aware who the new president is, it is not much of a cliffhanger. And politicians' speeches are usually pretty forgettable.

Today I watched it, though. There is something kind of...I don't know, magical, about Barack Obama winning the election. Outing myself as a true cynicist, I never thought I'd see an African American be president before I was an old, old lady. Plus he makes good speeches.

The kids did their best to ruin the experience, by running laps around the room screaming and throwing stuffed animals. I eventually ran away to the other TV, where I enjoyed at least Aretha Franklin singing My Country Tis of Thee before they found me. Having banished the 6 year old, I was able to hold the toddler at arm's length and giggle at the hilarious nervousness of Obama, who could not get the oath right at all. I solemnly swear? Faithfully execute the office? His wife was dying laughing in the background, I could see it. Such a human moment. Although apparently the Chief Justice fluffed up the wording, so it's actually his fault. (says www.readwriteweb.com) . Anyway.

In the middle of Obama's totally stumble-free speech that followed, Toddler announced that he wanted to do a Pee in the Potty. And you know, I had to turn my back on historical live TV for that.

I made a wreath today

2008-12-10T16:31:00.003Z

Yep, I'm too cheap to buy one so I cut some bay and rosemary from the garden and twisted them around a wire hanger. Kristina helped, so we have a familial sense of accomplishment. Never mind that it'll probably dry up and die in a few days!...

You say goodbye, and I say

2008-11-18T18:31:00.006Z

shh, don't let the kids hear you going out!

Every week my husband leaves to work in Sligo for three days, and there are 3 ways to do this:

- he gets up at 5:30 and makes a beeline for the early train/plane
- we drive him to the train station at 6:00 the night before
- he sneaks out of the house around 6 the night before and gets himself to the train.

I like option 1. That way, it's like he just sort of vaporises into the atmosphere and the kids don't really notice he's gone.

Option 2 is terrible. There are often tears of loss and grief in the car when he gives us his lopsided grin and wave on his way into the station and I end up having to cuddle the 6 year old and feed her ice cream to compensate for the tragic departure of her dad.

We did option 3 tonight. I feel evil when we do this, but I suppose it's just as well for the kids. Only, there'll be "where's daddy?" questions asked later and I'll have to say something preposterous like, "he went to the store, and he's coming back late. Very late."

And not to mention the hardship of being alone with myself til Friday night! I can never win an argument.

misc cakes

2008-10-23T14:55:00.006+01:00

birthday cakes I made this year. I seem not to have taken pictures of the others, which included my own cake (a carrot cake shaped like a carrot), Marcus' cake (a castle with cupcake turrets) and the 3-D butterfly cake. Might do the last one again though, as it was my favorite.

St Patrick's Day in Ireland 2008

2008-10-15T13:43:00.006+01:00

OK, here are some photos of Paddy's Day here this year. All in all, we came to the family consensus that it is kind of a throwaway holiday in Dublin. As in, we get a day off (yay) but the themed festivities are lame (boo). It's tacky. And it usually rains.

I have a LOT of catching up to do

2008-10-07T11:48:00.004+01:00

So much for using my blog as a nice little record of everything going on with my fascinatingly middle-class life. I should admit something - I tend to keep diaries when life is changing, or about to change. I guess I hit that restless feeling you get when your child is old enough that you aren't constantly obsessed with whether they are going to suddenly stop breathing and start to wonder what you are going to do with your own life. Although, you also still worry that they will suddenly stop breathing. Or fall down the stairs. Or choke to death on a Barbie shoe.

At this stage I have put the food co on the back burner. My main customer - a prospective restaurant chain - is all but out of business due to the global financial meltdown. Everyone in Dublin has decided to quit spending money. (Including us.) So it's not a chain anymore - it's one downsizing restaurant. I'm back working part time as a freelance marketing consultant. It's like working, but not really. I never have to do much past lunchtime. As if I could, with the 2 year old around!

My plan for catching up is to post photos I've taken this year of the happenings here in Ireland. So we'll see you next time. Take care!

no, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth

2008-04-16T15:20:00.004+01:00

but I suppose I may as well have, in the blogosphere. Life sure can be busy sometimes. And when it's not particularly interestingly busy, you just don't bother to blog about it. And then there are the scary times in life, where you just don't know what to say at all. Also not a great time to write about yourself online.
Anyway, will write more soon, but until then here are two poems:

We have a fridge
Smeg thas are fridge
Smeg Smeg smeg*

I am ham
I am sam
I am the jam**

*author: newly reading/writing offspring. recently learned to spell "fridge".
**same author. written Christmas 07.

Smashing

2007-10-30T13:42:00.000Z

Yep, it's Halloween tomorrow and the official beginning of the fast spiral towards Christmas. I've actually already bought a few presents. It's just, every week that it gets closer things get harder and harder to do - for example, you cannot park anywhere near downtown within one month of Christmas. I'm serious. And even when you do get there, by bus, you can't even get a leg into many of the stores. It gets that crowded. I might end up making a lot of Christmas presents this year - not to be cheap, but because I might do Christmas baskets for customers of the food biz. Might as well make some extra jars of Superchocolate sauce and millions of cookies and give them away to a) not be a Scrooge b) turn my back on the compulsion to buy things and c) give myself free advertising.

Check back soon - myself and my two children will all be matching for Halloween tomorrow. I'll give you a hint: you can make pies with them. And smash them. And name bands after them...

no news is good news

2007-10-09T22:03:00.000+01:00

Ah, it's great to have my husband working from home. When he emerges for coffee breaks, he can join the baby in the audience of my soliloquies. On Newstalk radio today, there was a woman going on and on about how she had been through this horrible trauma of taking her child swimming at a Dublin pool where they did not allow strollers. She had to (yikes) wear her one-month-old baby in a sling the whole time and (horrors) carry the changing bag too. It was sooo awkward. OK, I mock, but I too have been through this over and over again and love to bitch and moan about it.

I said to my husband, "In any other country, they would have built a pool, and said to themselves, 'we will have swim lessons here. Therefore we shall make room for strollers, and a big changing room, and build a large parking lot so that people may enjoy our pool.' But not in Ireland, oh no, they just slap it up, have loads of problems, and don't fix any of them. And that's your news for today."

"You're telling me this!" he said, beating a speedy retreat.

In the no news stakes, there can be some pretty edifying stuff. For example, the Minister for Defence told someone to F off in the pub last week, and we spent two whole days talking about that on the news. He even went on the radio himself, claiming the person gave him a hard time about the latest government fiasco and that he told them to "bunk off, or something." Thanks for clearing that up, Minister.

good old Heidelberg

2007-10-02T21:15:00.000+01:00

I just got back from a trip to my old hometown, Heidelberg, Germany. My old friends and I had a little reunion during the Herbst festival - an amazing event where the entire Medieval town of Heidelberg comes alive with bands, sausages, and all kinds of interesting things. I went alone, and boy was it weird to be without my two babies. Enjoyed it though. Also drank beer, which I have totally stopped doing since I left Germany, as it is just not as good.

Look at the nice underwear you can get there: (sorry it's sideways)

markets and me

2007-09-22T23:48:00.000+01:00

My day at the farmer's market on Friday was pretty good...sort of. It was another slow day at the market, but a couple of good things happened: I had customers just walk up to my stall and buy like, 6, and go. I didn't have to have a big chat about explaining ice cream sandwiches at all. Someone also came in looking for me - she said she heard the sandwiches were incredible. So I rate it as a good day.

I might change markets though. As much as I enjoy the one I'm in, it is sooo quiet. I think I'd make a lot more money at one of the outdoor weekend ones where there's lots of falafels and crepes, and kids running around. I have to keep reminding myself, the markets are not the end of the story though - hopefully I will get into a shop somewhere, someday. Or a restaurant. Or something.

My baby yelled "Daddy! Gimme!" today. I think it was his most articulate moment yet.

Beautiful

2007-09-18T20:41:00.001+01:00

I have a sick fascination with celebrity chefs. The Irish answer to Nigella Lawson - a lovely, demure blonde woman who cooks things like jam tarts and chorizo omelets on TV for all of our edification - was on the cover of our TV guide last week. My husband, to wind me up, said, "I reckon you cook better than she does." I shouted, "I bet I do! And she knows it! Look, she basically follows me around and copies everything I do." I based this comment on the fact that she was wearing jeans, converses, a cardigan and a scarf in the photo. Hello? I do watch her show. Also, I know someone who claims her as a close friend. Hopefully I'll meet her soon and can blog about that.

I'm currently ensconced on the couch watching Jamie (Oliver) at Home, cooking a bizarre chicken thigh-potato-tomato-rocket casserole, that I might have to try over the weekend. Feeling really out of the blogging loop. My internet connectivity died a while ago and I failed miserably to resurrect it until now. Turns out it was the wireless transmitter...if you're interested.

I put my back out just before launching Beautiful Ice Cream Sandwiches. Hub had to "roadie" for me my first 2 markets, but it was totally worth it, as I sold out to my enthusiastic customers. People who know me are full of requests for parties and the like. It's great, but I hope that someone who does NOT know me asks me to cater eventually - that will be a major milestone. Although, a woman at the market did ask me if I would do her daughter's wedding - which is kind of Yay and kind of Yikes. I gotta work out how I would execute that one.

back to school

2007-09-03T22:46:00.000+01:00

Going on vacation just before starting school/starting a new business is probably not really a good idea. I just did it; it wasn't so bad for the school part (I made sure we had all uniform components and books beforehand) but the fact I am launching a business on Friday has had me really losing my mind.

For some reason I decided to get Ye Olde Irish Country Printers to do my banner and biz cards, since, oh, I was on hols out in the sticks and they'd probably be cheaper. Well. I don't know about cheaper (not having solicited quotes) but they were super friendly and fun, and, late. I'm back home and still have nothing to show. Fate is now in the hands of couriers. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh.

I made my initial batch of ice cream sandwiches tonight - the kids' one. Gooey chocolate chip cookies with vanilla ice cream, shaped like stars. Heart-shaped white chocolate and raspberry I'll do tomorrow, and the carmelized Brazil nut ones Wednesday, I think. Thursday I'll bake random nice-looking cookies to sell non-frozen for the non-ice cream oriented ones among us. I think I'll do giant chocolate chunk and jam tart cookies.

Also: need to buy display basket. Napkins. Bags. Go to bank and get loads of change. (how much? No idea. I'm guessing I sell about, oh, three ice cream sandwiches the first day so maybe my own change jar will do.)

Starting a business is kind of obnoxious!

brain on ice

2007-08-13T21:33:00.000+01:00

Yes, well, all five of you are probably wondering why I haven't been posting. This is gonna sound bizarre, but it's because I am starting a business in about a month. No, it's nothing to do with marketing. Nor technology. It's... Ice Cream Sandwiches!

I've been spending all my free time slaving over the hot freezer trying to perfect my cookie recipes, freezing techniques, and decorating fu. Also ringing my long-suffering graphic designer brother over my precious logo. And surfing the web looking for the perfect collapsible catering table. Etc.

The fun begins September 7, when I make my fabulous debut at our local farmer's market. Will the people shopping for gourmet cheese, vegetables, fresh bread and jam be interested in fancy organic ice cream sandwiches? I sure hope so.

Hub is complaining that he is going to get fat. Little girl is complaining that I won't let her have enough of them. In-laws expecting me to win the local Millionaire Mom competition (don't ask.) I think I'll be celebrating if I sell more than ten.

Back soon. x

Conversations with babies (5)

2007-08-02T21:38:00.000+01:00

Overheard during recent toy wrangling incident:

5 year old: Give me that.

Baby: Aaargh!!

5 year old: You think you can have everything! Well you're wrong. You think you can have all the toys. You think you can have mommy all the time. Well, she's not just your mommy. She's EVERYBODY'S mommy!

party like you're 19

2007-07-22T19:47:00.001+01:00

To celebrate the end of breastfeeding (read: taking advantage of the fact that husband can now get up with baby) I went out on the tear last night. Firstly, I went out to dinner with about 10 of my favorite people in a really nice restaurant. By the time we left everybody was in extremely high spirits, so we went on to a nightclub where our gay friends got us in for free, without queueing.

I spent the rest of the evening dancing with myself and my new gay friends. I didn't realise there were straight people around until the end of the night when two different guys came up to me and said something like "you look good" or "how's it going" (my memory is a little fuzzy) and then taking hold of me and trying to kiss me on the spot. I was like, nooo! what?!

The gay lads informed me this is the norm on the club scene these days. I guess, thinking about it, since the night is over and everybody is herding out the door, you have nothing to lose, eh? Makes sense. Took me by surprise though.

I got home after 4. My lovely stapless green silk dress got a bit dirty, but I don't mind.

A OK

2007-07-11T19:50:00.002+01:00

Well, I went to see the dragon lady of neurology on Monday, and she was uncharacteristically chipper.

"So! How are you doing?" she asked, fluffing her cardingan and peering over her reading glasses.

I said, "Fine. Great. I had my MRI two weeks ago. That went well, I think." Which was completely asinine, really, as how can an MRI go well? I guess I was patting myself on the back for not moving a muscle for half an hour. I remember apologizing to the technician for swallowing, which turned out was fine. What a relief.

Anyway, it went well in a more real sense, as it showed that everything was just fine. So I guess I won't have to go back there again. And I can stop being paranoid about having assorted neurological disorders.

I arrived home in fine fettle, at which point I checked my email...and discovered that my tax bill is exorbitant. So exorbitant, in fact, that if (big if) I can figure out how to pay it, I will be coping with repayments for years to come. Word to the wise: don't liquidate annuities. It's charged a LOT more than capital gains.

So I am happy, in that I am not overly happy. (Thanks, Guildenstern.)

will the real Small Baby please stand up

2007-06-28T20:34:00.002+01:00

so, since I am currently in the habit of posting FAScinating things that inspire a vast amount of correspondence, the latest is that my Baby (age 1 year and some weeks) has now started doing things like:
- push chair over to fridge. Climb up on chair. Open fridge. Climb inside. Throw glass jars on floor
- climb on toilet. Catapult self into bathtub
- throw whatever can grab (unopened mail, Barbies, mommy's sunglasses) into a) toilet b) bathtub c) trash

very exciting

2007-06-22T16:13:00.000+01:00

I'm sitting in the dining room hosting a play date. Two five year olds are screeching and the baby keeps crying, either at them or at random. He missed his nap. I'm impressed I can string a sentence together right now... Rain is coming down in sheets outside, but the upside of all this rain is, my lawn sure is green. And my flowers are really growing nicely, even the impossible sweet peas.

Not sure why I am bothering to write a blog right now. I guess when my mom was here I got used to adult company in the midst of the child madness and now I have no one to talk to.

moms

2007-06-21T22:28:00.000+01:00

My mom was here for two weeks visiting. It was great. I did all kinds of things that I never get to do, like scrape the greenfly off my roses and move my furniture around. Another pair of hands sure comes in handy. I think she had fun. Her goal was to play golf, which was not met, but she did get to go to a driving range where she was driving into a field of grazing sheep. In disbelief, she mentioned this potential hazard to the people at the driving range, who said "Oh, they'll get out of the way." And they did.

I am now in panic mode about filing my (late) US tax return. I could be in trouble... Also I had an MRI today which was not a happy-clappy experience. Although, I almost fell asleep during it. Something about having to remain absolutely still for a long period of time kind of makes me shut down I guess. But I'm glad I went for it. I asked the radiographer if she saw anything interesting. Her reply was, "Even if I did, I'm not allowed to tell you." Does that mean she didn't see anything of note? I guess I have to go and see the neurologist-on-high to find out. Who, incidentally, resembles a member of the Addams Family in support hose.

qi

2007-06-04T08:13:00.000+01:00

I am struggling to understand what I may be letting myself in for in trying acupuncture. Everything I've read on the web so far basically says that acupuncture is accepted as a possibly beneficial complementary therapy, but it only works on some people, sometimes, and for a handful of conditions. I didn't run across any posts or articles that talked about episodes of fatigue and emotional upset following a session.

In case you are interested, I felt fine after my session, but after that things went rapidly downhill and I really was feeling dreadful all weekend. My exhaustion peaked, I felt really angry and I cried a few times. What is that about? Coincidence? Or does it have to do with restoring the flow of Qi?

A week later, I feel relatively normal. I am really tired right now, as that baby got me up at 5:45, but over the last 7 days I have for the most part forgotten about the Bell's Palsy. I just don't feel it every minute like I did before. I should film myself with the web cam to verify it's still there. Or...maybe I shouldn't.

The Irish elections are over and the same government has been returned to office. According to David McWilliams, Irish economist and journalist, this is simply because people want to maintain their house prices. This government orchestrated the overinflated property market and everyone wants prices to stay up; we are supposed to be at the edge of a crash, but no one believes it. How I cope: I repeat the mantra "I am not a property speculator. My financial future does not begin and end with my house." At least, I won't admit that it does.

I'm a porno queen, me

2007-05-31T21:57:00.000+01:00

Yep, the weirdness of the web hit me today - a couple of pervs were unwise enough to put me on their lists of contacts on Flickr. (side note: I find flickr a pain to use and haven't gone near it in awhile). I realised that yes, there are people sad enough to troll Flickr for appealing photos for their imaginations. This wouldn't be a problem, but there were a few of my darling child when she was only 2 - and I really was shocked. Looking at some of my pics through a pervert's eyes I can see how it would appeal, though. A beaming pregnant woman in a tight tank top? An adorable toddler wearing towels around her midriff and head? People lying on the grass in boob tubes clutching glasses of wine. Yeah. Family memories to me, god knows what to the next person.

It's all classified private now, sorry.

I guess we'll curtail the ol' photo posting now.

p.s. I went for acupuncture. It made me have the worst (psychological) weekend of my life. Unless that's just a a coincidence. My neighbor (we'll call her Louise) thinks the treatment made my deep feelings come rushing out of me.

Killjoy

2007-05-17T20:41:00.000+01:00

I have done a terrible thing. I have decreed that we are not doing a massive birthday party for my daughter this year, with 50 children, a magician, a face-painter, a clown, a bouncy castle and a chocolate fountain. Which will likely be confusing for her, as pretty much everyone else we know has had one of that ilk this year. I just fail to see the value in doing that every year. What do you do for a "special" birthday if every year is an extravaganza? *

This could be an Irish phenomenon. Case in point: I met a friend's babysitter a few weeks ago, and she was about to celebrate her 21st. These parties are often as expansive, and expensive, as wedding receptions. "I don't like the massive parties," she said. "I'm just going out to dinner with 30 of my friends, and then to a club..."

Um. That sounds like a big party to me. Obviously I'm a bit of a hermit.

This is before I start telling you about the madness that accompanies events like first Communions, Confirmations, stag nights, etc. On one hand, I am firmly in the "any excuse to party" camp and love the whole party milieu, but on the other, if the point of it is to have a special day/night, you have to exercise some kind of moderation. Especially with children. I can honestly say, that after doing anything and everything to make a fuss over my first-born (so she wouldn't feel psychically maimed by having a demanding baby brother), that yes you CAN spoil a child. You are better off just trying to include them, communicate with them, and show them you love them than trying to compensate. Taking my daughter out to lunch, shopping, etc has had no effect whatsoever other than leading her to expect special treatment. Laughing at her jokes, though - she likes that a lot.

So the Irish elections are coming up, and I am shocked and horrified at the bizarre jibes and promises of Fianna Fail and Fine Gael - if they do even one of the things in office they say they will, this economy will undergo some seismic effects. It's as if they are desperate to get (or stay) in power. The debate between the sparring PMs is on tonight, which should be entertaining. Enda Kenny resembles a sort of hollow-cheeked brainy scarecrow, and you always get the feeling Bertie Ahern is just waiting to wake up from a dream where he says "Bejasus, I had a dream I was Taoiseach! Mad stuff! Get us a cup o tea, love." Apparently he spends something like 5000 Euro a week on makeup. (Presumably for all his TV appearances, unless he has a well-concealed drag queen career.)

*just fyi, we are having a family party with 3 of her little friends in attendance and I have bought pink plates, cups, ballons, streamers, Barbie bubbles and lots of presents. So I'm not completely evil.

Baby air travel

2007-05-13T14:13:00.000+01:00

Well, the trip to Kerry had its ups and downs, but the takeaway is this: no more travelling with that baby until he is old enough to a) walk without falling down all the time and b) understand rudimentary instructions. At the moment travelling with him is like trying to manage a wild animal in captivity. It simply doesn't work. And, as we all know, babies out of a controlled environment are a lot of work for moms. So for the rest of 2007, the only trip we are planning is a few weeks in a nice big holiday flat in Sligo, which is thankfully only a short drive away - if we can do it during naptime so much the better.

We're encouraging family and friends to visit us. Trust me, it'll be better than us descending on you with our baby wrecking machine.

p.s. I had milk fever last week. Let me know if you want to hear more about this

The Rest

2007-05-03T07:53:00.000+01:00

My visit to my doctor went well yesterday. I came clean to her about the huge amount of coffee I drink during the day and my bad habit of drinking wine at night and gave her my theory that I am in a cycle of trying to compensate for my tiredness but using stimulants and depressants to get through the day.

"Wow, that sounds like the Valley of the Dolls," she said.

Anyway, they're gonna check my blood platelets, thyroid, etc and in the meantime I'm trying to sleep more and drink less (coffee and alcohol.) And I am not going to go on Prozac, yet.

If you're not already asleep from boredom, other news is that my lovely baby is walking. It's so cute. He likes to make a clicking noise with his tongue while he does it and smiles as if he is very pleased with himself indeed.

I'm flying with the kids today to my in-laws for a visit until tuesday. I really hope I can manage to enjoy myself. You know how it is. In-laws. Things can easily go pear-shaped. Plus they have an obnoxious dog. Plus for some reason my mother-in-law keeps talking to me about women that Paul could have married. One in particular, who we see often and is extremely beautiful. What is she trying to tell me? I confuse easily. I may load some new things on my MP3 player and try to spend the weekend with Bach or Miles Davis.

Head Wreck-a-thon

2007-05-01T21:16:00.000+01:00

OK, I have been trying to wade through the weirdness all around me lately about whether
a) I have any right to be depressed
b) I have any right to take Prozac (or whatever)
c) I really look messed up.

Re: a, I think my husband and mother have put paid to that notion. My life is great and I obviously am being retarded if I think I have a problem.
b) is harder, as it is kind of tempting. Would I feel better if I took meds? I sure would like to ditch that middle-of-a-shining-day feeling that my world is crashing down. What I would like, really, is a pill to pop whenever I start wanting to cry. Is Valium the name for that? I'll ask my doc tomorrow at the blood tests.
c) took some digital photos for a quick appraisal. On that score, OK, I think I probably am not that badly off. In a still photo it's hard to see anything...the problem is mostly in my head...(no pun intended)

I am hoping that either lack of sleep and/or anemia is the answer. After all, if our bodies are failing, our minds often follow don't they. Maybe I should say to myself, "hey, you're a size 0. That's wrong. You sleep 3-4 hours a night. That's also wrong. No wonder you are having health issues. Eat steaks!!! Go to bed after the news, not after surfing the web for hours!"

Mental health

2007-04-29T20:07:00.000+01:00

I've never been great at taking advice from people. That said, for some reason I listen to doctors; they have knowledge that I don't. I've become more and more demanding and sceptical over the years though. Last time I brought the baby into the doc it was practically a showdown.

He said, "I can't find anything wrong with him. See how he is in a few days."
I said, "He has been freaking for days. I am at the end of my rope. He is not well. Give me a prescription or I will kill you."
He said, "No."

Sigh.

So I have been watching myself since my GP told me to go on antidepressants. I didn't complain to her or indicate I was unhappy (I'm not unhappy, how could I be) but my guess is that when she saw how much weight I have lost and I told her how little sleep I was getting together with being ill she made some assumptions. Either that or she is a body language reader. And I did burst into tears when she said it.

I guess what is annoying me most is that the Bell's Palsy is not finished. I look relatively normal now, but still not the same as before. And it still hurts sometimes. I still can't blow up balloons. My cheek is still frozen, but I can flare my nostril a little which is good...

What I need to do, I think, is be fucking grateful (sorry for the language) that I at least can close my f-ing eye, smile, and speak. The truth is, when I got to this point, around Christmas, I was soooo happy just to be able to seem normal. And you know, it's fine. My doctor (the only person who has admitted this to me) said that she can see that the Bell's Palsy is still there. Everyone else has been saying No! You're fine! for months. I wish I knew just how weird I still look. Not that I was any oil painting to start with - but wow, B's P is sure character-building.

I have an appointment on Wednesday with a physical therapist to do some electroshock/acupuncture/other witchcraft to see if it helps.

Quote of the day II

2007-04-29T08:41:00.000+01:00

I heard our Taoiseach (Prime Minister) say this on the radio yesterday:

"I try not to be too gloomy. If I wake up in the morning, to me that's a bonus."

Yeah. No, that's not at all gloomy.

Quote of the day

2007-04-27T10:48:00.000+01:00

I told my mom about my doctor suggesting I take anti-depressants, and among other things(very kind and helpful comments. she does love me) she said, "Well, I guess some people just deal with life and soldier on - and you are just not one of those people."

Chris Isaak II

2007-04-26T21:00:00.000+01:00

Sorry for my previous all about me-me-me post. The show was actually good. Even if you never heard of Mr. Chris, you could enjoy it. Good accessible handling of American yee-haw rockabilly + Elvis. Kind of. Granted, he himself is no spring chicken, but Chris Isaak could potentially get less geriatric band members though - just for image purposes, as I feel certain guitar playing only improves with age. But for the show. It could be beneficial. Sorry for that very shallow notion.

I don't even know if he ended up with Helena Christensen (again, sp? and, right model?) but c'est la vie. If there had been an after party hopefully I'd be full of info, etc.

In other news, my doctor wants me on antidepressants, based on my scattered recollection to her of how I've been sick, how much weight I've lost, and how my bell's palsy is still hanging around a year later. For fuck's sake. (Sorry. I know this is supposed to be a family show.) Do I take the meds? I don't want to. I'd have to stop breastfeeding, for one thing. Why can I not take a vacation from my life.

Chris Isaak

2007-04-23T23:26:00.000+01:00

My three nights out last week culminated in a brush with a total collapse of my nervous system. Getting up at 6 a.m. with a baby is not the end of the world, generally, but. By Thursday my sanity, liver, and common sense had all gone on strike. I looked like a heroin addict.

Anyway. Most notable was the night out at the Chris Isaak concert, where shortly after arriving a crew member with loads of arm tattoos and a backwards baseball hat asked me if I wanted to dance with Chris Isaak.

"Potentially," I said. "Under what circumstances?" I pictured Chris and I swing-dancing in front of a glittering orchestra.
"It's something we do during one of the songs of the set," he said. They needed three girls (why three? Still don't know) and I agreed because in return I got a pass that said "VIP, After-Party". The friend that brought me is a big, big fan of Chris Isaak so I reckoned that the after-party was a good reason to do it - maybe we could meet Mr. Isaak and he'd be delighted.

So, at said friend's suggestion I "milled into the wine" and trouped onto stage at the agreed time and did in fact dance. It was fun. The other girls were really nervous for some reason. Chris turned and looked at us briefly, then picked a mad-looking woman from the audience, who was about the size of an eight year old girl but with peroxide hair, lotsa makeup and really tight pants. "You look like a professional dancer," he said to her. "Why not show us your stuff?" or something like that. He implied heavily that she was a pole dancer and got her to basically do a pole-dancing type demonstration on stage. It occurred to me that maybe one of us three stage dancers was supposed to come up trumps on the pole dancing cue. Obviously my laughing and grimacing at Chris' mirror suit (yep, he wore a suit made of mirrors) plus my lack of coordination were a dead giveaway that I was not in fact an exotic dancer. Hmmph. That does beg the question why did they pick me then.

But let's not go down that path today. I was a bit indignant that there was no after party at the end - despite the onstage chat about how they were staying up all night, there was no such thing whatsoever. I still have the VIP sticker though. Maybe I can sell that on EBay.

personally

2007-04-16T20:24:00.000+01:00

Sorry to post general blog housekeeping issues, but not sure where else I would bring up these things... Since it HAS been a year, and so far no evil dark forces have started threatening me since I started this blog, I was considering ditching the painful anonymity (referring to my family in a cumbersome fashion as My Four Year Old, The Baby, My Husband, My Sister-in-Law, etc) and using all of our real names. Or, is there some value in the descriptive verbiage of the anonymous labels? I suppose if you logged on to this blog for the first time you wouldn't be too informed by hearing what Jorge (fictitious name) was doing. On the other hand (It seems I have three), does it really matter at all, given that most people reading this got here, I gather, by accident.

In other late-breaking news, I am going out 3 times this week - a world record for me since I had Child no. 1. Tomorrow, I'm going to the Chris Issac (sp?) concert (no, I hadn't thought about him for a few years either, hopefully he's not bald, ha ha), Wed for a walk on the sea and a drink with an old friend, and Fri for a Mom's nite out with my neighbors on the cul-de-sac*. Which will be the most titillating?... Very, very hard to say. And for which night should I save the shrunken pink jacket and high boots? I'm thinking Friday.

*another word for cul-de-sac: dead end. Discuss.

no...

2007-04-13T20:36:00.000+01:00

no one was forcibly removed from the premises next door, at least not as far as I know. There is some noise from there at night (as in 2:00 a.m. I tend to have ritual wakings, even if the children are quiet, just to reassure myself that axe murderers are not breaking into the house), that sounds like the banging of garden gates and some scraping. I have come up with a theory, a la Desperate Housewives, that they have locked somebody up somewhere in the house and have to come by every so often to feed him/her. That would make sense, as they are rarely there, don't stay, are not exactly house proud, and don't even put out their bin on trash collection day.

I'm just having a little fun here. It almost never occurs to me to wonder what, if anything, is going on with any of my neighbors. As long as they are not bothering me. Maybe I will focus on watching/speculating on the ones mentioned though...it's a puzzle...

On another note, I am starting to make myself sick with how much I adore that baby. These feelings are at the root of the Irish Mammy syndrome, I am certain. I keep having Mrs. Ramsay moments where I am holding him and he laughs and gives me his hilarious baby-teeth grin and then bites me really hard on the cheek/chin/shoulder and I think, wow, this is amazing. And, ow. This vampire-like behaviour is gonna have to stop sometime...

creep out-ville

2007-04-11T20:48:00.000+01:00

I feel safe posting the following, as I have never known my next-door neighbors to one side, and doubt I ever will. They are extremely odd!

We know this first of all because they have one of those bizarre security bars that rises up behind their parked car in the driveway. This could be understandable, but the car is something kinda "whatever", I think a sporty Mazda or some such. I really don't mean to sound like a big snob here, but come on, if you're gonna steal a car, why not a Jag XK or a Porsche? Plenty of them in South Dublin. So why the bar. It's just weird.

Also their attendance at the home in question is erratic and whereas we have I think 26 varieties of flora in my garden, they have about...one. They had grass, but paved over their sad little lawn last summer and now have exactly one bush that they ignore and a barren back yard.

Today they pulled up in the car (a man and a woman) and didn't get out for about 10 minutes. I have a sort of picture window in my upstairs bedroom and just happened to be sitting there idly staring, and they were so paranoid! They kept biting their lips and staring at the kids playing in the street. Eventually they got out and rushed into the house, glancing all around them. I will not be surprised if a couple of X-Files types bum rush the house tonight and drag them away.

I almost hope this happens, as this post makes me look like a sad old lady looky-loo...

1 year

2007-04-08T21:25:00.000+01:00

...anniversary of this blog is around the corner. Cool! I did something for one year. Never mind whether it is a good thing, or a productive thing...

Yep, it is Easter Sunday and I am sitting at the same table in the same city (Dublin, Ireland.) At this time last year I was expecting The Baby Boy, and now I am the proud mom of 2. Well, proud-ish. When they're being good anyway.

We spent Easter day first of all witnessing the small girl's egg hunt (husband from bed) and the rest of the day having Easter lunch at my sister-in-law's. Geez, last year she was supposed to have her Baby Boy the day after Easter - and I have a valuable photo of her drinking a beer. They made lamb with green beans, carrots and roasted potatoes. I was especially enamored of the potatoes. As if you were interested.

Another couple with a small baby were there, and I was contemplating them with newfound awareness. They're Irish celebrities, you see, but not to me. Mostly because I don't listen to /watch the shows they present, but also because I am not Irish and haven't followed their whole history. Also, they're in the family and I see them regularly. They appear to be normal humans...

I was an eejit and actually admitted to being in-lawed to these folks to my neighbors the other day, and was a bit flabbergasted by the enthusiasm. For god's sake, I thought, they aren't out there curing cancer, having controversial views, or dating Brad Pitt. They're just nice people, who happen to be in the media business. After I said a few things about them (where they live, details of the party they had for the new baby) I realised I could be in trouble. Maybe I shouldn't disclose such information about people who are apparent paparazzi fodder?

Yes. Well, again I realise that not watching much TV has its pitfalls in life. My husband sternly cautioned me: he said, first, Don't talk about people. That's lame. Second, you could appear to be name-dropping, and that's just sad. I was appropriately chastened. I would never name-drop, if I realised what I was doing. I guess it's just hard to see people you know as celebs. Hmm.

vacation?

2007-04-05T22:12:00.000+01:00

We just got back from a 3 day vacation in the lovely Sligo, where my husband works. He didn't take any days off, we just all crashed at the Radisson hotel together and I took the chickens in the pool/to the beach while he was at work. All of us living in one room had its challenges at night - you can't ignore crying, for one thing, or make any noise after the baby goes to sleep. We watched episodes of theWest Wing on the portable DVD with our headphones. That was fun. I got very little sleep though, what with the baby demanding attention/feeding every 2 hours. What is it about babies in hotels?

Also, babies on the beach. Something in me does not like the idea of them loose in the sand, but I had to give in eventually. I couldn't pace around with him in my arms forever. So, he ate sand and got sand in his eyes/clothes/nappy/etc but it was basically OK. It was a mess, but what else is new.

I'll post photos soon.

Clarification

2007-03-24T11:38:00.000Z

I thought I should admit that what I was referring to in a previous post as "Irish Mother's Day" is just the standard Mother's Day celebrated in March, rather than May as in the US. Mother's Day is celebrated in March in most of Europe, I think. It isn't, as I wouldn't blame you for assuming, a holiday for IRISH mothers. (or, Irish mammies, as shown in the picture.) Although that would be a fine thing, wouldn't it? In case you were not aware, Irish mothers are a separate breed from other mothers. Irish moms (or, mums. or mammies for that matter) will do things like steal their son's girlfriend's makeup (so that the girlfriend will be on her back foot, not necessarily because she wants it for herself), be offended by Jane's Addiction album covers, and rear sons who do not know how to operate washing machines, dishwashers, or vacuum cleaners.

If you are dating an Irish man, ladies, this could make you run for the hills - but don't worry, if you can produce one healthy breathing grandchild, you actually supplant your husband on the hierarchy and you will have your grapes peeled for you.

Watch out for your new Clarins moisturiser though.

oh, honey

2007-03-22T22:08:00.000Z

I am currently in "health limbo", a vaguely ominous state. The baby had gastroenteritis on Monday, throwing up all over me copiously three times in the process. I had to change my entire outfit, including underwear - it was that bad. Also, at the best of times, the child does things like try to eat my nose. I'm like a petri dish of his germs. So I am going around now just WAITING to get sick. I've felt a bit miserable for days, as if about to get the flu. Headache, achiness, vague nausea...you get the picture.

Soooo, I have been plying myself with echinacea and high-strength Manuka honey. Have you heard of the latter? Apparently this is nature's latest gift to our health and well-being. It cures pretty much everything, including acne and burns, so I mix it into my daughter's cereal every day and use it to make green tea more palatable. After some Googling I learned that it can treat gastroenteritis as well! Holy smokes!... But, the key word here is Treat - i.e. not Prevent. Dang. But I have hope. I am also currently trying to meditate the gastroenteritis away every night. (Bet you didn't know that was possible, either.)

Irish Mother's Day

2007-03-18T20:18:00.000Z

...was today. I got: coffee and a banana in bed and a very large brunch made by my husband consisting of: huge spinach omelette, toast, doughnuts, orange juice and champagne. I was pretty full, I can tell ya. In the afternoon I took my little girl on a rare outing without the baby to meet her granny for tea and cake in Harvey Nichols' cafe and a poke around the shopping mall. There were a lot of moms with screaming youngsters in the mall, but there wasn't much evidence of moms being taken out to lunch as far as I could see. Weirdly, yesterday was St. Patrick's Day, which is a pretty big deal around here (this being Ireland.) We even have a 3 day weekend for it. I suspect the integrity of Mother's Day may be eroded by the mad Paddy's Day festivities occurring just before it. Lunch with your mom isn't really what you want to do the day after you've been drunk and reeling in the streets...

Well. In fairness I have never bothered to go to the parade, or anything else connected with the day. For one thing, like magic, spring always turns back into Arctic winter during St. Patrick's Day (it snowed today). For another, when are parades really worth it? You can watch em on TV if you're that interested. For the party crowd though, I'd say there's a lot of craic in the pubs and nightclubs on the night. All week long on Dublin talk radio, people were going on about it being "an excuse for drinking" and bemoaning Ireland's place at the top of the leader boards for binge drinking. Especially female binge drinking. Apparently it's just my generation that started drinking pints of Guinness (we used to only be allowed a little glass) and some people are still shocked by that.

I don't drink Guinness too often myself. Every time someone gets pregnant though, a friend will certainly buy her a glass of it - apparently doctors admonished the generation before us to be sure and drink a bottle of Guinness a day. I think this could have been a marketing ploy by Guinness to ensure a whole generation of people would be born with a taste for the black stuff..

spoiled?

2007-03-15T21:08:00.000Z

or, spoilt? Can a child be spoilt, or just egg custard?

Yes, this discussion has been coming for some time, but it appears that my 4 year old is really now officially spoiled(t). It is very hard to impress her; and she now makes day-to-day things difficult, as she deems it a huge chore to a) take a bath! b) eat a meal! or c) put away her shoes! It is really making life less enjoyable around here. Lately I've been concerned that the 9 month old arrival of her brother has been affecting her badly and I should give her extra tlc - and the net result is that she is ever more demanding. You can't please her. (for long.) What used to be a huge treat - i.e. an ice cream sundae - lasts as long as it takes her to eat it. It depresses me.

Do I need to go backward and stop allowing such things for a while? Maybe I should read the next range of child raising books. I'm not looking for reassurance here - as in, 'it's just a phase', as I have given up that ghost - but if you have any advice I'd gladly hear it.

Lemon-roasted chicken

2007-03-11T20:54:00.000Z

Just a quick detour from mom central to share my latest culinary excitement: lemon-roasted chicken. I first tried this when I had a few leftovers from a lemon tart I baked for my mother-in-law's 59th birthday; had chicken - had loads of lemons - stuffed chicken with cut lemon halves and handful of parsley, and prepared a rub of lemon juice, olive oil, garlic and lemon peel. It was so good I had to try it again - and sure enough, I think I have cracked roasting chickens. The neat thing is, despite all that citrus, the chicken does not really taste lemony. It just tastes moist, and really good. Even the gravy comes out brilliantly. All you get is a slight tartness, which really works with the chicken. I have a funny feeling this may be something that everybody who cooks already knows?

I'm nowhere near as thorough as one man's ceiling about food things, but I enjoy reading that blog so much that I reckoned I'd share the lemon chicken concept. If you still eat chicken that is. The horrors of chicken farming could scare a lot of people, including me. I try to buy chicken responsibly, looking for organic or at least free range. I hear that these classifications can be dodgy too, though - but that's another blog to be writing...

great buns

2007-03-07T21:59:00.000Z

Finally, someone had the sense to import food coloring PENS to Ireland - with quasi-appetizing results at my house.

K was ready to eat them, anyway.

end of weekend

2007-03-04T21:03:00.000Z

so, it's Sunday night I am in end of weekend mode. I'm tired. Having to cook three meals a day for three different palates (baby, 4 year old and husband) is tiring in itself, not to mention all the other things that go on when there is no school!...

We went over to a bachelor pal of my husband's for dinner, which was an adventure - the baby got really dirty from crawling on the floor, and we had a curious dinner of chicken, rice and potatoes cooked by the new girlfriend. She said they were up late and got up only an hour before they had us to dinner. Mm-hm. They also served technicolor cheese for a final course.

In fairness, I ate it all, with gusto. Sod the lack of vegetables.

Nappy-ness Is

2007-02-26T22:14:00.000Z

Conversations with babies (4)

2007-02-26T22:12:00.000Z

Walking home from school:
(birds fly by, chirping)
child: did you hear that?
mom: the birds chirping?
child: those birds' heads were very conspicuous.

So much to say

2007-02-17T22:48:00.000Z

It is amazing how little it takes to throw me off track these days - even a little shift in the routine, and all my priorities get thrown out the window. For example, after our trip to San Diego at Christmas, I became consumed, for weeks, with:

1. trying to get the children over the jet lag
2. trying to get myself over the jet lag
3. sleep training the baby
4. sleep training myself

You get the idea. Edging the lawn, shampooing the car upholstery, and doing my nails have all been bumped right off the timetable. To add to my laundry list of excuses, for the last few weeks we've been taking turns getting stomach flu (nice!) with the baby getting off the most lightly because, apparently, breastfeeding gives him the right antibodies in advance. The more I learn about breastfeeding the more amazing I think it is. People who give it up early must be lacking information. Although, in my case, it's a choice largely of convenience - I don't have to worry about running out of formula or toting bottles around which for me is a big bonus, as I am disorganised and also not a fan of carrying big baby bags.

Anyway, on my list of things to do is answer my fellow blogger's challenge to list 6 weird things about myself. So far all I can think of is that fact that I salivate twice as much as is normal (according to my dental hygienist). I am not sure whether that is good or bad. Bad, probably. It could cause foaming at the mouth.

Chew on this

2006-12-03T20:25:00.000Z

My baby got a tooth the other day. This was a big relief because for months now we've been assigning any and all pointless fussing, drooling, etc to Teething. He's a little more than a week shy of 6 months. Is that early teething? I forget, and am too lazy to look it up. Anyway, the tooth is so cute. Sharp though!

My husband has been complaining about the messiness of the massive drooling that his big baby boy is doing, and I pointed out that he is cutting teeth, which lays open his gums to infection, and is putting all kinds of nonsense in his mouth. I'm glad his mouth is on permanent rinse mode! Otherwise he'd certainly get sick, is my guess. Neat how nature takes care of us.

I am in denial over Christmas, and am way behind on shopping/cookie baking/decorating. We're traveling to my mom's in CA (a 12+ hour flight from Dublin) and my main concern is surviving that. Thanks goodness I'm breastfeeding.

Checking in

2006-11-23T19:32:00.000Z

I feel like I have been blogging a lot lately, because while I am walking home from dropping Child 1 at school I usually write one in my head, with titles like:

- Oversensitive Moms
- What Is the Deal with My Stomach
- Baby in a (sleeping) bag
- Brain Entropy

But actually, as you can see, I have been totally non-communicative. Why? See blog 4 above. Wait, I didn't actually write it...
sigh.

My baby boy is the same size as his cousin, who is 2 months older. He also is about 10 times as active. It's the weirdest thing, seeing two babies at opposite ends of the spectrum. The cousin is really mellow, likes to nap, sits still, and contemplates his toys. Our baby usually has all four limbs kicking and grabbing, won't nap, tries to crawl and destroys/eats toys. I'd feel comfortable giving odds on who's going to be getting the wedgies in years to come.

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving.

ye olde Ireland

2006-11-08T22:05:00.001Z

It's been an interesting week: 4 year old was diagnosed with a chest infection after weeks of coughing and put on antibiotics/pure morphine drops (which she enjoyed). Baby being insufferable but by all accounts not all that sick; have bottle of baby antibiotics at the ready just in case anyway. Halloween was a kind of washout, as K was too sick to trick or treat. As a result we were stuck at home with insufficient candy and a crooked pumpkin. Her little friends on the street brought her a selection from their stashes, though, so she made out OK. My neon orange wig was a hit, I think. No one asked what I was supposed to be. I guess if you are wearing jogging shoes, spitup-stained pants and a baby strapped to your chest people assume the worst. After the candy rush we drove to Sligo, the Ireland of the misty dreams and postcards. See for yourself - the drive, (unphotographed) was surreal and magical due to the fireworks and bonfires everyone sets here on the night. It was like driving through hyperspace. Wild.

Also, I think I may have gone mad - two reasons:
- started book club (first meeting tomorrow - will it be a wine-and-good-times or tea-and-scones type of affair?)
- have sensation that I want two more babies (why?)

Happy Halloween -

sun baby

2006-10-14T22:37:00.000+01:00

Look Away Now

2006-10-09T22:05:00.000+01:00

So, I was out having coffee with two local moms today, while our 4 year olds were in "ballet" class. (As far as I can tell, they run around pretending to be butterflies, or fairies, do good toes/naughty toes and call it a day.) Somehow we got to trading birth stories. I usually manage to freak people out with either a) the manual placenta removal and ensuing hemorrhage story or b) the Bell's Palsy horror. But one mom, let's call her Mary, kicked the ass of my stories. To summarise: her baby was born

-breech
-vaginally
-WITHOUT AN EPIDURAL.

And, it turned out afterwards, she wasn't fully dilated for the birth (of a 10 pound baby), her placenta wouldn't birth itself, and she had a massive hemorrhage. She actually tore her cervix. After the birth she went into surgery for 3 hours, and as she puts it, a torn cervix is not easy to repair. (As the perineum presumably is?)

At this point, I nearly excused myself to go to the ladies' room to hyperventilate. She went on to say that she lost 75% of her own blood and was given transfusions. And, I learned something new today: blood transfusions make blood go to all kinds of inappropriate places in your body, making your feel completely discombobulated. (Is discombobulated a word, or did my mom make it up? I should check on this.) Mary was unable to move or see the baby for 48 hours. I had been wondering why she wasn't breastfeeding - it would have been impossible.

The bizarre part is that a month after the birth I saw her skipping around ferrying her daughter to Montessori and so forth, weighing around 90 pounds and looking gorgeous with her long blonde hair and fashionable tracksuits. How on earth can this happen? I'd like to start a sweepstake on whether she goes for a third child - it's all the rage in Dublin these days to have three. (It used to be 6+, but that's another story.)

all going well

2006-10-07T22:03:00.000+01:00

This weekend, so far, is going much better than last week's. Last week it poured rain the whole time, and we spent Saturday watching Yuri hammer chunks out of the hardwood floor to stop it popping up, and Rostyk shake his head over the state of our laptops (which are riddled with spyware.) The guys that do, and have done, all the work on our house, are trained computer engineers and from the Ukraine. However, they have found that there is a lot more money in Ireland doing things like installing heaters and hammering people's wooden floors. Rostyk is about 5'8", built like an acrobat, and has absolutely no hair on his head, including eyebrows. Yuri has hair, and Janet fancies him; I heard she even had a dirty dream about him last week.

Anyway, my little baby is teething, and was in a foul mood all last week. He pretty much cried all weekend, except for when I was nursing him or when he was being driven at high speeds down the freeway. It was like we were back to square one again, with an impenetrable newborn. I found myself craving vodka. Fortunately there was none in the house, and I had forgotten about the bottle of absinthe behind the bran flakes.

So things are going much better now. Both children seem happy today, and I even kept my little girl away from the TV for almost the entire day. The best news is I found a babysitter, who is a lovely girl with loads of nanny experience and is studying complementary therapies. She hasn't actually babysat yet, but the comfort in finding her is immense! I have just booked tickets to Mahler Symphony No. 2. Celebrate good times!

all grown up

2006-09-16T20:48:00.000+01:00

My little girl had her first day at school. I thought I was going to cry - but I suspect the people in charge of her school are aware of this tendency in moms and arranged the day in such a fashion that there was no real opportunity for it. On the first day, we brought them in, sat them down, and they had a party. Every place had a bag of popcorn, a box of orange juice, a lollipop and a chocolate. Which do you think they pounced on first? Yeah, the orange juice...No-oo!!!

Moms were ushered into the auditorium for a hellish hour of shouting to each other over plastic cups of coffee. I was "wearing" a baby at the time to boot so it wasn't relaxing, but the baby fell asleep anyway. Why not serve wine and canapes? Honestly.

The scary thing is, since then, a few moms actually seem to remember my name and say hello to me - how they retained any knowledge from the barrage of information on that day is beyond me. This supports my sneaking suspicion that I am, in fact, of substandard brain capacity. Also that Irish people are a highly sociable breed, able for remembering complex things like...names.

The children were totally unfazed by the experience. Starting school was truly no big deal for my little girl, only 4 years old and already wearing a navy pinafore with a starched shirt and - somewhat hilariously - a tie.

Two weeks in, we've clarified that PE has nothing to do with pee-ing, and that Homework is for Big Kids. Still, we march in with a proper school backpack, suitable for carrying books and A4 notebooks, but stuffed only with a ham sandwich and a raincoat (just in case. we're in Ireland, people.)

Anyway, the few hours of isolation with Baby are no punishment. As he won't nap, I'm never lonely, and besides, I am deeply in love with that little cuddly bundle. It's kind of sad to see. I could stare at him all day. He's so lovely.

Lies, lies and more lies

2006-08-31T22:32:00.000+01:00

My daughter is starting primary school tomorrow. (She's 4 - that's when they start here in Ireland). Apparently the first day is only an hour long and is a party. I didn't enquire into the details of said party, but assumed there would be name tags, snacks, and maybe a game. My daughter has been suspiciously quiet about the looming watershed of starting Big School, so I was trying to chat to her a bit about it today. She started asking me about when I started school when I was a little girl, and I assured her that my first day was a party too. "Really? Tell me all about that, mommy," she said, perking up.

I cannot remember a single thing about my first day at school, so I made some stuff up. "Uh, we sang some songs," I said, my mind racing for ideas. "Then we played a game, and had cupcakes." She wanted to know fine details about the game, the songs, and what kind of cake. I can't remember what I said. Hopefully whatever they do at the Party tomorrow will eclipse any stories I made up today. This could get me in trouble. Especially if there is no cake.

ephemeral, eternal

2006-08-07T22:19:00.000+01:00

I feel like I should try and explain how it feels to have a baby; all I can do is attempt to explain how it felt to have my baby. One thing I think all mothers are in agreement with, though. It rocks your world, truly. It's your Samurai Warrior trial. It's the Reckoning. It's Armageddon. The baby is coming whether you like it or not.

A digression: it often occurs in discussion, and literature, this crux of the delivery experience where the mother tries to opt out. For me, it was the moment when, after four hours of painful labor and dramatic waters breaking, I said to my husband, in a small voice, "I'm not sure I can do this." I guess I hoped he'd spring into action and run at the midwife shouting "She can't do this, woman! Sort it out!" I did end up projecting on the anaesthesiologist (sp?) that he was the antichrist, for not showing up - but then, I did let it go an awfully long time. It seems I wanted to feel the pain, for a while. Not like with my first. I was anxious to get drugged asap with her.

Anyway, this is the reason women (child bearing ones anyway) have a unique sisterhood that men can never understand. (sorry.) I have been through medical Hades - disastrous accident, several major surgeries, long spells in ICU, ongoing physical traumas - and can say for sure that childbirth is the most painful and scary of them all. But maybe that is because you are so anxious for the the little baby you have produced. All you want is to see that little face. And body. And adorable little toes...again I digress.

Having a new baby in my arms is the happiest feeling I have ever felt. And if that sounds generic, let me put it this way: the feeling is proportional to the saddest you've ever felt. Like, if your dad died (mine did) and you saw your mom cry. It's as happy as that is sad.

I wonder if any men read this blog. How do you feel, really, when your children are born? It must be unique in its own way.

Early days

2006-07-23T22:48:00.000+01:00

I really have been lagging on the blogging front. I also have been lagging on other things, among them brushing my teeth, doing my hair, cutting my nails, talking to people, eating, etc. The good news is that my purely breastfed baby has gained about a pound a week (OK, I am exaggerating) but he is positively huge and doing very well. My face is about 70% recovered - when I can smile properly again I might even post a picture of myself. This has been a real character-building experience.

Can anyone tell me how to break the habit of sleeping with the baby and feeding on demand? I kind of enjoy this but I can see how it could bite me in the proverbial ass in months to come.

More delightful postings to come, documenting my amazing birth experience and first days home.

love and kisses
Second-time mom

My baby is born

2006-06-12T21:20:00.000+01:00

He's here! I love him. I love him so much!

He's just perfect.

The Dealbreaker

2006-06-02T22:30:00.000+01:00

I would like to announce that this is definitely, positively for sure my last baby. Yes, I know I have been saying how I love babies and never say never, but I take it all back. The reason is because I absolutely refuse to be pregnant ever again.

It is the latest pregnancy complication I have been lumbered with: Bell's Palsy. Have you heard of it? Neither had I.

Basically, what happens is, the nerves somewhere in your middle ear/back of neck that control your face inflame due to pregnancy, and one side of your face becomes paralyzed. Yep, you look like a Dali painting, have to drink through a straw, slur your words and can't blink one eye. It is sooooooo horrible. And the nifty thing is: it lasts for months! You start with a raging headache, and all of a sudden can't move your face. I am on day 3 of it, and went to the hospital because my eye hurt so much. They actually gave me some eyedrops that are in fact helping. They blur my vision horrendously, but I can live with that. It's the pain I object to more than anything.

Note: apparently none of this affects the baby at all.

So in case you are someone who knows me, please don't visit until the baby is six weeks old at least. You may be horrified by the sight of me.

Well, I suppose I should take it down a notch and admit that, at this point anyway, it could be a lot worse. One side of my face is sagging a little but I don't have the droopy eye (yet anyway) and from the right angle you might not notice right away that I look freaky. I can't taste my food which is very annoying, and talking with half of your mouth is no fun at all though, so I am not in the best of moods. I am praying that it won't get too much worse and that I'll be in the demographic that recovers in a few months. Some people don't.

So there you are, beat that for pregnancy horror stories. At least it's nothing to do with the bundle of joy (for which I am most certainly grateful, please understand) but it's vintage bad luck.

I am reeeally looking forward to having the baby born.

Tick, tock, tick

2006-05-28T21:41:00.000+01:00

I now constantly feel as if I am going to have a baby any minute. I have more or less constant mild period-like pains and suspect that I am leaking amniotic fluid. (sorry, was that more information than you needed?) I also am able to go to sleep at virtually any moment. This is significant for me; I don't like to sleep long hours, rarely nap, and even have trouble sitting down for long, in my normal life. If I do sit down, I am one of those annoying leg jigglers that drive people crazy. I think both of my children are destined to take after me judging by current levels of activity, which is unfortunate.

OK, the good news of today is that I have hired someone to clean my house. Yep, I've been saying I would do it for years now, and finally got around to finding someone. Her name is Gulie, and she is from Georgia (former member of the USSR, not the southern state.) Georgia isn't a million miles from the Ukraine, and my Ukrainian grandma is a great housecleaner (among other things). I may be reaching here. Anyway, hopefully this will work out, as I am now physically incapacitated and the house is getting rough around the edges. It has been really bugging me to notice things like the dust accumulating under the couch and be unable to do anything about it - I could ask the Hub to do it, but I think I may have reached critical mass with my constantly asking him to pick up things from the floor and do things for our daughter while I sit on the couch like a lazy cow. I still cook the dinners, however, with the caveat that whatever it is must be cooked in one pot. We've had a lot of pasta and stews lately. No one dares complain.

Conversations with babies (2)

2006-05-28T21:34:00.000+01:00

After putting a chocolate cake into the oven, 4 year old goes to town on the bowl used to melt the chocolate:

Mom: You really love licking the bowl, don't you.
Kid: I think I'll lick bowls until I'm 19.
Mom: Oh really?
Kid: (holding up a chocolate finger) Only in the house though.

Don't try this at home

2006-05-24T10:09:00.000+01:00

I thought I was having the baby on Monday, but no sign of him yet. I'll tell you why I thought I was in labor - I woke up with a stabbing pain in my lower back accompanied by nausea. Later on the pain spread to the front, which was when we decided it was time to get the medical authorities on the case. They sent me home saying to take a break. I went to sleep for the afternoon and that was it, no more labor pains. I'm not sure if I'm glad or not - I do have some things to do this week, but I really have had it up to here with carrying this bowling ball (with attitude) around in my stomach. Last night the kicking and squirming kept me up all night. Delightful.

I think my false labor was brought on by the birthday party I gave for my daughter's 4th. There were 10 kids, but it felt like 100. It was an interesting study in child psychology - some of them turned a bit evil, like the 5 year old girl who took all the candy from the pinata and refused to share. And the other 5 year old girl was so overwhelmed by the melee that she had to retreat to the living room by herself and watch tv. And the mess! How did that grass get in the toilet? When did the front windows get scribbled with crayons? Why are there dismembered Barbie parts in the fridge? All children's parties are off-site from now on.

jitters

2006-05-09T21:06:00.000+01:00

I think I am getting ill. I have that creepy headache-behind-the-eyes one gets when a flu is about to strike. Or, it could just be an effect of my sleep deficit. Last night I was really angry about something, and cried for a while; after that, I couldn't seem to sleep and stayed up until 2:00 reading The Fountainhead. The final stretch of pregnancy is getting to me .

My bump is like a shelf. When I am sitting down I could rest a of cup of coffee and a muffin on it. My braxton hicks contractions are starting to hurt.

I went on maternity leave this week (a bit early) because a) I have been struggling physically b) I think the baby's going to come early and c) the office is in crisis with the investors and I'd say it is a blessing not to have to pay me for this month. I need to race around and get all the baby gear together, and try to look after myself a bit better. You know you are apathetic when you eat cereal for two out of your three daily meals and pizza for the third. I also need to get a pedicure, as I can't reach my feet any more.

housewives
I also spent some time socialising with a few of the full time moms on my new street today. All come from (self-described) high-powered careers in things like PR. I wouldn't describe my marketing career as high-powered really. I mean, it has been a little stressful at times, but nothing unusual. More interesting was the concern they all have with renovating the house and interior design. Obviously, the family who sold this house to us was not keeping up with the Joneses, as it were. Everybody else seems to have skylights, expensive duvets, curtains that match the couch, playrooms, elaborate gardens, etc. I'm glad we at least stuck in hardwood floors and some antique mirrors. And repainted. Not that I feel compelled to compete with the neighbors, mind you.

big is beautiful

2006-05-02T21:23:00.000+01:00

So, I found out today that my unborn baby is already over 6 pounds. That's acceptable newborn-size! At this rate I think we might hit 10 pounds. I'm not sure that's going to work. People already think I look ridiculously pregnant.

I'm glad though. It's better for the baby to be big - at least I know that if he comes early, he'll probably be OK. I might have problems in the birth - but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Agh

2006-04-26T11:21:00.000+01:00

I got an email from one of the pregnancy websites saying YOUR BABY COULD COME AT ANY TIME NOW. My hospital bag is not packed! I still have to get baby boy clothes and a crib, and shop for a jogging stroller. Then it hit me (again), that being pregnant means you are Out Of Control.

Ultimately, you don't decide when the baby is born, the baby does. (Unless you get a voluntary c-section). And I swear, every day that baby makes decisions without asking me. He makes me take naps. He makes me too tired to do things, and starts kickboxing when I want to go to bed for the night. He also is currently using my bladder as a pillow, which makes me need the bathroom every 10 minutes.

As I am a second-time mom though, I try not to dwell to long on any of this, because as bizarre as it all is, it is nothing like the control the baby has when he gets out. That's when you REALLY can't go out, and REALLY can't sleep due to loud crying/constant feeding.

So really, pregnancy is like boot camp for moms - tough but nothing compared to the real thing. Wouldn't you agree?

these are a few of my favorite things

2006-04-25T14:35:00.000+01:00

I am now 33 weeks pregnant and am almost as tired and cranky as I was in the first trimester. Although, some days are better than others - it depends on how much sleep I've had and how well my 3 year old is behaving.

Here's a list of things I'd rather be doing than being at work today:
1. getting a massage
2. taking a nap
3. going for a swim
4. having a snack
5. shopping for glamorous jammies to wear in hospital

Here are my favorite things to eat at the moment:
1. pineapple
2. artichokes
3. pizza
4. hummus
5. cereal

I have also have a real craving for beer - what is that about?

Conversations with babies (1)

2006-04-19T20:32:00.000+01:00

I heard this exchange between my husband and little girl (LG) when she was about 18 months and he was changing her diaper:

H: "We've got to get you out of these nappies!"
LG: "Why?"
H: "I don't like poo, you know."
LG: "Do you like pee?"

And then there were two (more)

2006-04-19T20:21:00.000+01:00

My sister in law had her baby today! It's weird to think we were all sitting around the table on Monday translating Wagner and Wednesday she has a little baby boy. I was so used to her being pregnant, it seemed to go on forever. My friend K had her baby on Friday too - I am the last lonely pregnant person here. However, I am experiencing vicariously that amazing happiness you feel just after having a baby. I might have a stab at putting the feeling into words after my next little baby comes, if that's possible.

Tonight I experience the creepy joy of having my entire house to myself - my daughter is with her granny and my husband is (as per usual) away doing his consulting job. He is away a lot, but I'm used to it. Besides, as he points out, the money is a lot better than if he had a regular local 9 to 5 job. He configures operational systems. A while back he printed a few business cards that said "We'll configure your ass if the money's right."

2006-04-18T15:54:00.000+01:00

Easter in Dublin

2006-04-18T14:43:00.000+01:00

Hello -

It is the Tuesday after Easter and I am worn out from eating so many candy-coated mini eggs, large pure chocolate hollow eggs, chocolate bunnies, and truffle eggs. I ate so much that my endorphins turned on me and actually put me in a bad mood - my husband unplugged the phone while I was talking to my parents and I was peeved for the rest of the day. Easter really is mostly about chocolate and a three-day weekend, but here is the version of why Easter is a holiday that I gave my 3-year-old:

Easter is a holiday because it's the day that Jesus went home to be with his dad and watch over everybody. Jesus was a really important teacher, and he died. Everybody was really sad, but a few days later he got up and wasn't dead any more! He went up in the sky to live with his dad again, and everybody was happy about that. That's why there's a party on Easter.

This may be oversimplifying, but that is a whole other discussion.

In her little mind, Christmas wasn't that long ago, which was all about the Baby Jesus, so she quickly fixated on the idea that Jesus used to be a little baby, but then grew up to be a big man who died for a while. Her main concern is the chocolate (on both Christmas and Easter), but at least she isn't 100% ignorant of the historical reasons we have these holidays.

Dublin is a great place to be on Easter (provided it isn't pouring down rain), because everybody leaves for a few days in the countryside. Did you ever see that movie Night of the Comet where a comet turns everybody who sees it to dust and the world is a ghost town? It's kind of like that. Normally, Dublin really bustles and we have problems with traffic, getting reservations in restaurants, long lines in the grocery store, and so on, and I always enjoy a break from that. One big drawback to Dublin at Easter is that you cannot buy alcohol on Good Friday. Liquor stores (they call them off-licenses) are closed, grocery stores won't sell it, restaurants won't sell it. The result is, most Irish people stock up beforehand so that they have something to drink at home. Someone told me that it ends up being the biggest drinking night of the year. If you arrived as a tourist and didn't know this, you'd be completely baffled. You'd be in the middle of one of the cities most famous for boozing the world over, and not allowed to drink.

Things like the non-drinking Good Friday are quintessentially Irish. Other things I would put in the same category are the fact that abortion is illegal here, and divorce has only been legal since 1995. People have their ways of getting around things though. For one, you can do whatever you like in the UK, and you can practically swim there from here.

I am going to resist the urge to cram too much into my first blog entry. Next time I log on, I'll talk about being pregnant and other fascinating topics.........