Category Archives: Parenting

‘I Think The Ants Did It’

Jacob has started to tell fibs and if I’m honest with you, I kinda respect him for it. Last week, Ass Monkey had to leave the house in my car to drive all the way to the office (takes about an hour), to get the spare keys for his van because they were nowhere to be found in the house. Of course, this was AFTER he traced his steps back up to the shops and playground where he had brought Jacob the previous day.

While he was gone, I found the van keys – in Jacob’s circus tent. And then I decided to look for other missing things in his room and found a remote control in his treasure chest. Ass Monkey and I tried to have a serious conversation with him about not hiding mammy and daddys’ things later that evening.

Ass Monkey: ‘Jacob, how did the remote control get into your treasure chest?’

Jacob: (not even with the slightest hesitation) ‘I dunno’

Ass Monkey: ‘Did you put it there?’

Jacob: (not even a flickering of the eye, he’s a pro) ‘No’

Ass Monkey: Then who did?

Jacob: I think the ants did it. They can carry things on their backs.

What. A. Legend. I have to start writing all the cool things that he says down, and make t-shirts out of them. Here’s one cool family who is already doing just that.

[Like this? Why not read A Letter To My Daughter Eva. It’s pretty cool ;o) ]

‘But Where Do I Dock My iPhone?’

When I had my first child, Jacob, I thought that I was going to be able to listen to music of my choice in the labour room. I THINK I read somewhere that I COULD. So I went to all this trouble of compiling a playlist – mostly hilarious stuff like Salt ‘n’ Pepa’s ‘Push It’ because I didn’t know then that I wouldn’t find ANYTHING funny when I was in labour. I do now….

Needless to say, when the nurse told us to switch our phones off when we got to the labour room, and I asked ‘But…Where Do I Dock My iPhone?’, the look she gave me was almost enough to send the labour process into reverse.

Anyway, have a giggle at my expense again – GO ON – and while you’re at it, I know you’ll appreciate this hilarious post called Jamie and Jeffs’ Birth Plan.

Enjoy x

[Like this waffle? Don’t miss Nun Gives Birth To Surprise Baby, I mean, why would you?]

Breastfeeding, but not breast-feeding. Another Option!

After last weekends’ Great Twitter Chat on my ‘Breastfeeding: A Pain In The Tits?’ article, I can’t stop talking about it to everyone I meet. Most women are in agreement that whether you or I breast or bottle feed our kids is nobody else’s business, and everyone just needs to get on with their own lives. BUT, there was a definite sentiment amongst many of the women I spoke to who hadn’t breastfed either for a long period of time, or at all, that a their reasons stemmed from a lack of information and support on the matter.

So I’m gathering up shit-loads of no-nonsense, practical advice for anyone who might be interested, on the subject of breastfeeding.

Step in my good pal Sinead, mother to the most adorable, dainty princess Harlow. Sinead and I were due our babies on the exact same date – we were ‘Competitively Pregnant’, you know (they bleedin’ won) – so Eva and Harlow are almost the exact same age. I breastfed Eva for two months and switched to formula feeding. Sinead is still feeding Harlow breastmilk exclusively – but not with her boobs. I’ll let her explain in her own words.

Sharyn x

“I had my little one nearly 8 months ago and becoming a mum has been the most fulfilling thing I have ever done. But, like most mums, I have had my challenges.

I come from a family who are very supportive of breastfeeding and when I was pregnant I read everything I could find about it. I decided I really wanted to breastfeed my baby. I even YouTube’d how to get baby to latch on properly so that I would feel confident on our first try! I did what the advice said and when I had my baby I fed her immediately skin to skin. While in hospital my baby fed without difficulty, latching on well and no pain, I thought I had hit the jackpot,” what’s all the fuss about”??

Then, after 2 days, we went home. She started to scream…., and scream. She screamed the house down. I couldn’t get her to latch on in all the hysteria. Thankfully I remained calm, thinking “she can’t scream forever”….well, she gave it her best shot! This proceeded to happen every night, the sun would go down and BOOM, screaming! In the first few weeks my little one wanted to be on the boob around the clock. She might drift off after a few minutes on the boob, looking like a tiny cherub in my arms, but as soon as I would take her off the latch the hysteria would start again.

I slept in 30 minute intervals those first few weeks and felt like I was losing my mind with tiredness. During the day she was a lot more content so I’m sure people thought I was mad telling them just how hard it was.

Then I got mastitis – lovely. This is no joke ladies, not only is your boob really painful but you get the shakes and feel like you have the flu. Naturally, it just so happened I was on my own with Screamer all that day so couldn’t do what I needed to, which was rest. So I was carrying Screamer in my arms at the top of the stairs when the shakes got really bad and everything started to go fuzzy. I have never fainted before but it definitely was not the glamorous swoon I have seen on the telly. I just sort of lowered myself to the floor with Screamer tight against me and lay there, on the stairs until the fuzz ebbed away. I knew I couldn’t keep going as I was.

I really wanted breastfeeding to go well. I felt everyone would be terribly disappointed if I stopped, especially me. I knew all the health benefits of breastfeeding for both the baby and myself and felt I would be devastated to stop at that time. So, I rummaged out the little breast pump I had bought before Screamer’s arrival. I had bought it with the intention of using it on the odd occasion I would be away from Screamer. I had invested €125 in a Medela Swing which is a tiny electric pump, about the size of an old disc man. So anyway, on hideous mastitis day, baby was about 4 weeks old. I knew the best thing to do was clear the blockage in the painful boob and go the doctor. But, as I was on my own that day and too sick to leave the house, I just pumped until the infection cleared. Now, as you can imagine, this hard earned breastmilk was treasure, I couldn’t just bin it! With a little research I found you can refrigerate breastmilk for up to 5 days, so I kept it. That evening, I gave said bottle to Screamer, and something magical happened; Screamer slept. She slept for 3 hours straight. An absolute miracle, glorious. It meant I could get help. Every time prior to this that Screamer was, well, screaming, she was handed to me with “she needs the boob”, when in actuality, she didn’t always “need the boob”, she just needed someone to hold her and love her through the screaming. But I know it is hard to differentiate between crying due to hunger and crying for reassurance.

So anyway, that’s how I started pumping my milk, and how I felt I could continue breastfeeding and keep my sanity. Pumping might not be for everyone and I know breastfeeding your baby is best. It just is. No one can argue the facts. But this is how I got through. I consoled myself with the knowledge she was getting all the nutrients nature intended, but, selfishly, I gave her a bottle so I could get some sleep. It slowly went from one feed of pumped milk a day to solely pumped milk when Screamer was about 10 weeks old.

It took time for my body to get a routine established but now I pump 4 times a day. First when I wake up at 8.00 for 30 mins, then between 12.00 and 13.00 for 20 mins, then at about 17.00 and 22.00 for 15 minutes each. I found out you make the most milk in the morning, fascinating!

So there you have it, Screamer doesn’t scream anymore. She grew out of that at about 8 weeks. She is a very healthy and contented baby. Far more relaxed than her mother. I went back to work when she was 6 months old – I’m a nurse so I do long hours both night and day shifts and I still feed my baby solely breastmilk. To be honest, I am proud that we are still plodding along together pumping as we go but I still have guilt. That niggling in the back of my mind that she is not breastfed from the breast. I think mums put a lot of pressure on themselves. No one has ever said or done anything other than being totally supportive of my choice to pump but it’s me. This just happens to be the way I muddled through my first time being a mum.

No one ever gave me the option of pumping as just that, an option. I wrote this so that other mums might know that this is a viable option if you feel like you are banging your head against a brick wall breastfeeding a screamer. Pumping is a rarely discussed method of continuing to breastfeed with its health benefits included, while getting the positives of bottle feeding, like getting your other half to give you a hand the odd time. I don’t know how long we will keep going, but if I can do it, you can too.

Breastfeeding: A Pain In The Tits?

Firstly, let me say this: I am 100% a fan of breastfeeding our babies. And I am 100% a fan of bottle feeding our babies. Therefore, you might conclude that A) I have done both and B) I am taking my usual judgement-free stance on what other people do to feed their babies…and you’d be right.

But all the statistic waving on the subject of breastfeeding in Ireland of late is giving me, quite frankly, a large pain in my tits. Surely I am not the only person who realises that the real reason we have such low numbers of breastfeeding women in our country is because NO BODY TELLS US THE TRUTH ABOUT IT.

Newsflash: Breastfeeding Is Hard For Some People. Why won’t anyone just admit that to expectant mothers, instead of saying ‘Breast Is Best’ ad nauseum, without outlining the realities of how breastfeeding works? Wouldn’t our young mothers do better with realistic expectations, instead of believing it’s going to be all ‘babe-suckling-at-the-boob-by-the-candlelight’; only to become disheartened when the breastfeeding begins and it doesn’t follow what they’ve been told?

Nope, our health service continues to omit the relevant info, and leave our poor new mothers to fend for themselves when the new baby comes along. If you attend any of our maternity hospitals’ ante-natal classes when you are expecting a baby, you will most likely come away with the following (false) info:

1. If it’s your first baby, you’ll be overdue. You will know you are in labour when your waters break and you feel something like a period pain. Definitely stay at home for another two hours until the pain in unbearable before you come in to the hospital because we’re mad busy.

2. Don’t ask for the epidural until you have been in labour for hours and hours and hours. At the point that you do ask, it may or may not then be too late to actually get the epidural. And sure why would you want it anyway when you’ll have a quicker birth without it? (See Point 1: ‘We’re mad busy’).

3. Breastfeed your baby. It is the most natural thing in the world. Sure they do it in India.

Whisky. Tango. Foxtrot!

First thing off the cliff should be that statement ‘It’s the most natural thing in the world’, because it isn’t for lots of people. What breastfeeding needs is time and patience and support and a demo video of how to get your baby to the boob successfully in public. These are the logistical challenges that modern mothers should have the answers to.

If the Irish health service really wanted to increase the numbers of women breastfeeding in Ireland, I would suggest that they perhaps send all expectant mothers a pack called ‘The Truth About Breastfeeding’. The cover letter would read as follows:

‘Dear Mother-To-Be,

We hope you and baby are healthy and well. In the event that you choose to breastfeed your new baby boy or girl, we wanted to send you the following items out of the goodness of our hearts:

A nipple guard, some super-robust breast pads, nipple cream, a realistic schedule of when you should expect your baby to feed week by week, and when you should be resting your boobs and body, a demo of how to do it in public, a decent breast pump, a bottle and carton of instant formula for when you need it (and THAT’S OK), a list of non-arsehole-riddled coffee shops and restaurants where your baby can feed in peace, and a voucher for M&S so you can get fitted and buy yourself a nice new bra when the time comes that you stop breastfeeding.

Also, everything you decide is up to you.

Love, the Irish Health Service’

[Like this ranty madness? See more over at ‘Breastfeeding Is Back!’]

Interview: Amazing Parent Pamela Cleary

Every time I sit down to edit an interview in the Chitter Chatter series, I am reminded how great the world is and can be. This interview with Pamela Cleary says everything we need to know about being a parent – mix together the right amounts of love, worry, respect, acceptance and guidance with our kids and reap the benefits. Marc and Pamela’s relationship is closer than almost anyone else I’ve ever met and it’s a joy to see. Enjoy the video (dare you not to cry) x

A Letter To My Daughter Eva

We had a Baby Naming Ceremony for Eva on Saturday, at The Unitarian Church at St. Stephen’s Green in Dublin. It’s a beautiful service, that concentrates solely on welcoming the child to the world, and leaves out all the religious stuff. ‘Coz Ass Monkey and I don’t dig the idea that babies are born with sin. Like, me hole.

I decided I would say a few words at the service, as Alan had done it for Jacob, and took to the good ol’ internet looking for inspiring poems or phrases that I could include. As is often the way, I got super sound advice from my mates on Facebook, who suggested that I pen my own letter to the gorgeous baby girl, as it would be a fab keepsake for her in years to come.

And so I did. It’s the easiest thing in the world to do, because you love them so much, and as a bonus, it can capture a snapshot of what is going on in the world at the time, how you feel about them, a little of the birth story, and even slag off your partner for TAKING HIS EFFING TIME when you went into labour ;o)

Here it is, enjoy, and thanks for the encouragement to do it!!

Sharyn x
Dear Eva,

On the night that I woke your dad at 1am to say that I felt you were on the way, you were already 9 days overdue. This is entirely my fault, as my mother informs me that I was born not one, not two, but THREE weeks overdue and have been late for every single moment of my life ever since! So that one, you have inherited from me.

After your dad finished his two sausage sandwiches (cough), we drove into the hospital and I remember turning onto the quays in Dublin City and remarking on how still the river was, and how pretty everything looked all lit up at night. At that same moment, you gave me a little kick & I knew that you were ok and we were going to get you into the world safe and sound.

Your dad and I were so overjoyed that we had a daughter that we cried and cried with happiness for hours. In fact, I carried on crying for a few weeks, any time I opened anything pretty and pink…. (hormones and happiness).

From the moment I met you, I said to everyone who would listen, ‘Look how strong she looks’. You were tough from Day 1; you had this sideward glance you gave us that said ‘Ok, whoever was in charge just got fired. I’m here now’. That one, you have inherited from your dad.

I have never seen your dad so in love as he is with you. He held you on the rocking chair for hours, every single evening for the first 12 weeks of your life when your little tummy pains kept you from sleep. I often attempt conversations with him now and watch his gaze drift off towards you, where he catches eyes with you and his whole face lights up. I would wager that Irish Water could call to the door, and so long as he’s happily distracted by you, he’d let them install TWO meters.

And your brother Jacob – well, he did ask for a long time where ‘Baby Brother’ was, but he has gotten very used to being the ‘best big brother in the world’ to his beautiful little sister. He is very kind and gentle with you, delighting in seeing if you’re awake every morning so that he can say ‘Hi, Poo Head!’ After we brought you home, he would introduce you to visitors by only giving them your full name. But as he couldn’t pronounce ‘Elizabeth’, he used to call you ‘Eva A Little Bit’. And we think that really suits.

So to Eva A Little Bit – welcome to our family and our hearts. M’iníon, mo ghrí, mo chroí.

Love from mum xxx

PS: We spelled it EVA but pronounced it AVA, on purpose. You’re welcome ;o)

[Did you read ‘Mammy, Do You Have A Willy?!’ yet]

Mutiny Kids

The incredibly talented Lili Forberg (Lili Forberg, photographer (misslili.net) ) and Sooby Lynch are launching Mutiny Kids, an online children’s fashion and interiors magazine at the beginning of December.

Their focus will be high fashion editorial shoots, featuring a mix of brands and looks for today’s modern child. They will have a modern, bright, edgy and inspiring style, with lots of personality.

The website and blog is at Mutiny Kids and they are on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter too so check them out for style updates, competitions and lovely giveaways!

Nuts For Hallowe’en

We went on holidays a few weeks ago. Am I still banging on about that, about it being the first holiday we had in three years, how we blew WAY too much money on it but we were desperate? Yes I am! (review for Kelly’s Hotel, Wexford, to follow!)

Anyway, on our last day, we met a lovely couple and their son who was just a little bit younger than Jacob by a few months. The boys got on great so naturally we got chatting to the parents while supervising them on the super-cool Viking ship playground in the back garden.

The mum told us a VERY harrowing story about recently discovering that their son is allergic to nuts – and they found out the hard way. He ate a tiny bit of granola that had traces – TRACES – of nuts in it, and immediately suffered a major allergic reaction.

The ambulance couldn’t get to Crumlin Childrens Hospital quickly enough from Clonskeagh on the busy motorway as this little man swelled up, broke out in massive hives all over his body and his windpipe closed in. They diverted to St. Vincent’s hospital to get some steroids to tide him over until they got to Crumlin, and the entire time, his mum kept thinking ‘My baby’s going to die. My baby’s going to die’.

Naturally enough, I was BAWLING listening to her story, and couldn’t NOT give her a big hug for going through it. We also discussed my pal whose daughter is allergic to eggs and that poor girl from Drimnagh who died on O’Connell street last year after being denied an EpiPen by the chemist. I still can’t fucking believe that happened, by the way.

This mum and her husband at least had a happy outcome – their son was alive and well and having a great time on holidays with his parents and new pal (for a day!), Jacob.

As today is Hallowe’en, I am reminded of this family as my son is about to call to neighborhood houses in his dinosaur costume and other kids will call to our house, all looking for Hallowe’en loot and goodies in their precious bags. And we have NO IDEA sometimes who these kids are, or if they could be allergic to anything.

So I’ll do a deal with you – you don’t give my kid monkey nuts today and I won’t give any to yours. Just in case. Cool?

FunKidDayz Blog

Growing up on a farm I was always used to having close contact with animals. I’ve had the usual pets of dogs and cats, but also the unusual ones of lambs, calves, hedgehogs, frogs and even a donkey! Animals were an important part of my childhood.

Now living in Dublin and recently becoming a mam I realise that my son is not going to have the same experiences as I did. And much to my disappointment we’ll probably never own a donkey! But I’d still like the little man to know about animals and have some contact with them.

For that reason I’ve created this week’s top-5 list of activities for all animal-loving families.

1. Dublin Zoo: http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/1935/; fair enough we never had an elephant calf. You’ve got to go check out the Zoo’s latest arrival
2. Natural History Museum (Dead Zoo): http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/2009/: sadly growing up on a farm we probably could have made a few donations
3. Pet Farms:
North Dublin – Newbridge House & Farm http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/2224/
South Dublin – Airfield Farm & Gardens http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/2035/
but without the sterilizing hand gel

4. Animal Shelters:
North Dublin – Dogs Trust http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/2051/
South Dublin – DSPCA http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/2050/ (some of the family did come from here!)

5. Horse Riding:
North Dublin – Horse & Pony Riding @ Child Vision http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/2113/
South Dublin – Carrickmines Equestrian Centre http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/2151/
West Dublin – Ashtown Stables Horse Riding http://www.funkiddayz.com/web/location/2125/ (do donkeys count?!)

***To find fun activities for your child in your area and download the FunKidDayz app please visit The Fun Kid Dayz Website.

Make sure to like them on Facebook to hear about their event of the week.

‘Mammy, do you have a willy??’

So… THIS line of questioning began this morning while I was in the shower. Jacob, 3 years of age and proud owner of a willy of his very own, joined me in the bathroom while I was washing myself. As usual. (Is it just my partner or does every dad get to shower alone, while I get plagued by my little visitor each time I attempt to close the bathroom door behind me?!)

We discussed the ‘cool bubbles’ in the shower tray as we always do, and he monitored them slipping down the drain. And then we went through our ‘Morning Questions’ ritual:

Me: ‘Did you have a nice sleep?’

Jacob: ‘Yes’ (did he fuck – he hasn’t slept properly for weeks)

Me: ‘Did you have nice dreams?’

Jacob: ‘Yes’

Me: ‘What did you dream about?’

Jacob: ‘I dreamt about the owls and the fire engines and the bubbles and the green tractor’.

Me: ‘Do you feel happy?’

Jacob: ‘Yes’

And we grin like weirdos, trying to ‘out smile’ each other if we can. But then he cocked his little head to the side, as a new question formed – one that hasn’t been (and I hope isn’t about to be!) added to the daily list:

‘Mammy – do you have a willy?’

SO. FRICKIN. FUNNY. I had just been on the telly last night contributing to a piece on nudity in Ireland and one of my main points when interviewed (which wasn’t used in the program), was that I LOVE how kids have no hang ups about their bodies when they are kids, because the stupid media and the stupid society and the stupid other mean kids and the stupid pass-remarkable grannies etc haven’t gotten to them yet.

So I smiled, and just said ‘No I don’t, just boys have willies Jacob’. I WAS going to say ‘Mammy has a …. ‘ – what word would I use?! What’s the equivalent to ‘willy’? Daisy? Fandora? Front bum?! HELP! But I decided that I didn’t have to go there, coz this morning, we were just talking about willies. And he seemed happy enough with that, nodded his head sagely for a moment before adding:

‘Poppy doesn’t have a willy’.

Poppy is a girl in his pre-school class. Another 3 year old. Jaysus. I took a little breath and decided against asking him how he knew that Poppy doesn’t have a willy, but to be honest, I’m sure that it doesn’t really matter when you’re talking to a three year old. So instead, I said;

‘That’s right. Poppy doesn’t have a willy. Just boys have willies’.

‘Yes they do, Mammy’ he agreed. And promptly pulled his pants down right there to present his amazing willy to me. The proof was in the pull-ups. Proud boy ;o)