Tag Archives: sharyn hayden

Fact: Some Kids Are Just Bad Sleepers…

…and my kid is one of them. Jacob is delightful in many ways, but sleeping through the night is not one of his strengths. We originally blamed ourselves for moving house too much, unsettling him, not being strict enough about routine, not setting his room up correctly – too hot, too cold, too much milk before bed, nappies that weren’t absorbent enough and so he’d wet himself and have to be changed at 4am… and that’s just SOME of it.

We have tried absolutely everything to correct the situation: halved his daytime naps, cut his naps out completely, only let him nap before 2pm, brought him to soccer tots to try to tire him out, tried to chill him out with zero stimulation before bedtime, banned anything containing sugar after 4pm, early dinner, playtime, late bath, the Cry It Out method, the Fuck-It-I’m-So-Wrecked-I’ll-Sleep-In-Beside-Him method (I think I made that one up myself though), blackout blinds, 6 stories before bedtime, just a song or two before bedtime, Stay In Bed reward charts, Baby Neurofen, bottle before bed, no bottle before bed…. you catch my drift.

Ultimately, I think it may boil down to this: Jacob is just a shit sleeper. I have been up with him at least once – for a drink, for a cuddle, for a wee, for a chat, sometimes for a full-on row – AT LEAST once a night for the entire duration of this second pregnancy. Some nights I’m so pissed off, I want to hide downstairs in the kitchen and pretend it isn’t happening, and other times, I just think ‘It is what it is’ and get on with it until I can get him back to sleep.

But I was SO DELIGHTED to read this hilarious rant from another exhausted parent in the States, who read up on all the amazing Get Your Kid To Sleep advice when she was having no luck herself, realized how contradictory it all is, and lashed it together in a big rant on Tumblr. Read it HERE

The bottom line is this: every kid, every parent, every family and every house is different. What works for me may not work for you. Only you can decide what is best for you and your crazy kids.

(And by the way, pretty much all that is working for me at the moment is letting Jacob into our bed. SO SUE ME).

Alan and Jacob Asleep

Preggo Watch: A Holy Show

Preggo Promo Shot For The 'Up The Duff' Show 2011

Preggo Promo Shot For The ‘Up The Duff’ Show 2011

I didn’t have a ‘show’ with Jacob. Well, I did, but that was in The Sugar Club when I was 5 or 6 months’ pregnant and ‘Shazwanda’ was singing songs about only getting knocked up for the sake of the free buggy, free nappies and instant listing for social housing that she could get her hands on. Especially ‘coz she was a single mudder an’ all…

I have also made a holy show of myself before & since, but of that, I’m sure, you’re already well aware.

I am told that one must have a ‘show’ in order for labour to begin and take place – that if that mucus plug doesn’t dislodge itself and slither away, then how will the baby find it’s way to the light at the end of one’s, erm, tunnel?

As I did not bear witness to the departure of my mucus plug when I went into labour with Jacob, and as there is still, as yet, no sign of one on this pregnancy either, I have a few queries that I feel I need clarification on:

1:   There is a lot of stuff going on ‘down there’ at the moment – A LOT. And mostly, due to the enormous size of my 41 weeks pregnant tummy, I can’t see what the fuck that is exactly. When I now go to the toilet, my main priorities are A) to try not to break the toilet seat with my fat arse, and B) to wait patiently until I assume I am done ejecting whatever my body is getting rid of at the time. And let me tell you, there has been a vast amount of ejecting lately – so how am I supposed to distinguish between super sonic pregnancy vaginal yuck and this Labour-Has-Begun-Show yuck? It’s all yuck to me.

2:   If I use SuperValu’s own brand Blu Blocks in my cisterns (which I do, because I’m a clean freak and I don’t want to see what the toilet is really supposed to look like on any given day), then is it possible to LOSE the show underneath the sea of blue cover-upness, therefore assuming that it has never appeared?

3:   Why do I assume that my ‘Show’ will only make an appearance when I go to the loo? Is this the most common place to locate the arrival of one’s show, or is it possible for it to make an entrance (or exit) with sparkling tiara and jazz hands at, say, the checkout of your local supermarket?

If anyone is brave enough to share their ‘Show’ stories, I’d love to hear them. Me, I’ve always been more partial to the Broadway kind of shows, but I’m willing to wager that I’ll be even more excited about this preggo one than I was about seeing Matilda (which you should totally go see btw; it’s amaaaaaazing)

Peace Out.

Love Sharyn ‘One Week Overdue WTF?!’ Hayden

[Have a click on ‘Preggo Watch: The Labour Farce’. It’s a pretty good read ;o) )

 

 

 

 

 

 

Preggo Watch: The Labour Farce

So I’ve been in labour for a month now. Not medically speaking, obviously, but mentally, emotionally and sometimes – psychologically induced, of course – vaginally.

The worst thing about being unsure about your conception dates is that is makes you suspicious of your due date too, and so every single twinge that I’ve had for the past five weeks have been huge dramatic events, resulting in declarations of ‘We’re going early!’ ‘Are the bags in the car?’ ‘Seriously, why the fuck are the bags not in the car? We’re having this baby NOW!!!’.

(It should be noted that a pain in the lower back/butt area can often mean that one just needs to poo).

I have cancelled nights out, lunches, trips to the half-an-hour away shopping centre alone, for fear of getting caught with my pants down (like that’ll ever happen again), my waters breaking at the Benefit counter in Boots, or being unable to drive home and forced to have my baby in the carpark at Lidl.

Now that I am FIVE DAYS OVERDUE (morto), I am raging that I’ve spent so much time in a house-and-immediate-area-bound panic over nothing. My ‘labour mani/pedi’ that I insisted on having done weeks ago are completely chipped, the valeted car is manky, the Immac job that I did on my nethers is a distant memory and even if I wanted to…. I can’t fucking reach it now to give it another go anyway. The cookies that I baked? Eaten. That last house clean before Granny & Grandad come to mind Jacob when we go to the hospital? Needs to be re-done. The work that I finalized and parked ‘for a few weeks’? I’ve picked up again BECAUSE I’M SO FUCKING BORED!! Dearest Baby – Where Art Thou?!

On the up-side, I am making the most of having some quality time with Jacob which, deliciously, also includes joining him for his midday naps. I lovvvvve napping. Oh, and eating three ice pops every day. And sleeping in my nudies. And wondering if we’re having a boy or a girl. And looking forward to seeing who it is that we’ve created this time.

(FYI I’m holding out for a ginger girl….)

The GREAT thing about having a ‘Due Date Deadline’ is that is makes you get shit done. It hasn’t been a bad 41 weeks, all things considered….

 

[Pssst: Don’t Miss ‘Preggo Watch: Flight of the Bubble Gee’!!

 

 

 

 

Preggo Watch: Flight Of The Bubble Gee

CONFESSION: I once lived in Lusk, North County Dublin for, like, two years.

I’m really terribly sorry that I kept it from you, but you see, I was MORTIFIED. The fact is that when you grow up in one village in North County Dublin (and I grew up in Rush), Town Loyalty states that you must vow to always, always hate your neighboring village and it’s inhabitants. This includes claiming superiority in all areas of village life, such as: the ridieness of your local GAA players; the presentation of the town square Xmas tree, accessibility and cleanliness of public toilets in the local pub and finally, control that the female population keeps over their Bubble Gees.

In case you are wondering, the ‘Bubble Gee’ can be found on a body, starting from the actual gee area itself and extending all the way up to some place in and around the sternum. They are also referred to as ‘The Gunt’ in slightly more rowdy company, and honestly? There is nothing I love more than a good Gunt.

When I lived in Lusk, I constantly referred to the dedicated bike and walking path which circles the village as ‘The Bubble Gee Walk’, due to the body type I normally encountered along the way. I also generally assumed that these fabulous creatures were in charge of protecting the village, a theory which has now been compounded by the addition of County Council-donated outdoor gym equipment at the side of the road. Not only would I not fuck with a person in possession of a Bubble Gee, but I most certainly would not fuck with someone in possession of a Bubble Gee on a CROSS TRAINER.

Due to my hyperactive nature and genes inherited from my mother, I have not ever had a bubble gee, the absence of which has made me question both my abilities to live in Lusk (Result of Questionnaire: NOT ABLE) and also my ability to protect a village should the need arise.

Although now… NOW I could be on to something…. check this Gunt out & send me some inter-village warfare to deal with

;o)

Bubble Gee

 

 

[If you like this, you’ll love ‘Preggo Watch: The Labour Surrogacy Outreach Programme’] 

 

 

Camán & Play

We just love hearing from cool and innovative parents who are setting up and running new resources that are absent and needed in their communities.

So take a look at ‘Camán & Play’ – gaelic football and hurling lessons for pre-schoolers, with some Irish lessons thrown in so cleverly, that your kids won’t even realize they are learning!

http://raisingireland.com/caman-play/

Camán & Play!

Camán & Play!

Preggo Watch: The Labour Surrogacy Outreach Programme

You lot are great pals. You’re always there for me, clicking on my little links, being kind about the almost-nude preggo pics that I insist on posting online, humoring my articles such as ‘Is Smalltalk Really Necessary At The Gynecologists?‘ etc. I feel like your support knows no bounds…. doesn’t it?

If this is truly the case, then you might do me one last favour:  I am currently looking for someone amazing to take over this pregnancy until the baby arrives. You will need to know that there are either two OR five weeks left, depending on whether this is a Back-Of-The-Van-At-Electric-Picnic baby, or a Went-To-A-Charles-Bradley-Gig-Alone-Got-Hammered-Went-Home-And-Woke-Alan-Up-With-A-Few-Demands‘ baby. I’m sorry that I can’t be more specific, but really, my levels of irresponsibility with the taking of my contraceptive pill knows no bounds.

Your Number One duty as the new vessel for my baby will be to go through with the labour and birth on my behalf. Honestly, I can’t be arsed at this point because I am WAY too busy getting through the list of things that I’ve put on the longest of the long fingers. They include:

1. Finding the right pram (yes, seriously, I still don’t have one)

2. Deciding on what sling might work best for me, baby and my crockety back.

3. Buying a few nursing bras. Honestly, I don’t have even one.

4. Finishing off the paint work in our new house. The mixture of fumes and bending up and down repeatedly isn’t exactly working well alongside my preggo body so I’d like to get back to that please because the staircase that I started looks ridiculous.

5. Getting the car cleaned. I’ve genuinely only been putting this off since Xmas and I think the baby might prefer to come home in a car that doesn’t have melted ice cream stuck to every seat, soiled baby wipes shoved down god knows where or a humongous spider residing in the wing mirror.

6. Finish knitting the baby cardigan that I started for my nephew 4 months ago. (Although, to be fair, the kid might be better off without it. I might just go to the shops and buy one).

7. Put all the bills on standing order like a normal, grown up person, so that The ‘Has The Electricity Been Cut Off?!’ fear doesn’t hit me every time Alan simply turns off the lights in the landing when we go to bed at night.

8. Spending more time getting Jacob to stay in his EFFING BED AT NIGHT. Like, seriously, am I going to have to staple him down?!

9. Training Pearl to stop barking at the postman & black children as they walk past our house to school. Yes, her discrimination knows no bounds, although perhaps I should stop rewarding her with treats when she goes ballistic at the canvassers so that they move on to the next house.

10. Kegels. Kegels, kegels, kegels. I promise, if you take over this pregnancy, that I will do three rounds of kegels for you PER DAY. I just can’t be pregnant and do them at the same time, it really is too ridiculous an ask.

All interested parties, please contact Sharyn at info@raisingireland.com and I will arrange for you to take over my body at a time that is mutually convenient. Failing your interest in this position, there’s a bit of paint work in my kitchen with your name on it…. ;o)

IMG_3645

‘This Body could Be Yours! No Fee, No Charge!!’

[Did you read the Irish Blog Awards Nominated Post: ‘Preggo Watch: Avoiding the Gaybours’? Read it HERE]

‘Captain America’ attacks

Ecstasy hit the streets of Dublin sometime around the time that I turned 16 or 17 years of age. I don’t remember my parents ever talking to me about the dangers of drug taking, but thankfully I was too much of a chicken shit to take any. Plus, I was really vain, liked to show off on the dance floor and didn’t like the way people looked when they were marouavih.

Loads of my friends took drugs at the time; some have left this world because of addiction, some have health issues today due to drug taking in the past and some are absolutely fine.

Still, I worry about the advances in the manufacturing of drugs now, how I’m going to approach the subject with my kids when they’re experimental teens. It’s news stories like the ones this one this week, when there’s a ‘bad batch’ that could potentially kill our kids, that keeps me awake at night.

Read more here: Via The Irish Times

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News: I Couldn’t Love Ryan Tubridy Any More…

Ryan Tubridy interviewed ‘Chris’ on RTE 2fm yesterday, who admitted to regularly beating his wife some 20 years ago – he was eventually criminally charged with domestic violence after she was hospitalized.

Ryan, who I have always admired, kept his professional interviewer cool insofar as he could. Eventually, he did the most amazing thing & told ‘Chris’ on air that if had been abusing someone he knew, Ryan would personally call to his house and BREAK HIS LEGS.

Three hundred cheers, a billion high fives, a million hugs and all our hats off to a man finally telling another man ‘ARE YOU F*CKING KIDDING ME??!!’

Read Ryan’s article on the matter in the Independent today. There’s also an audio link to the interview, and be warned, it’s very hard to listen to.

http://www.independent.ie/opinion/analysis/if-this-stops-even-one-man-hitting-his-wife-that-is-enough-for-me-30276158.html

Sharyn xxx

Resource: Foghlaimid Education Network

I didn’t always love school, but when I was good, I was really, really good… And I know that the benefit of a good education, and my parents’ insistence on making sure of exactly that, has really stood to me over the years.

Therefore, now, with the benefit of an oul wan’s head on me, and a smidgeon of wisdom, I just love any of these educational resources that I find to help our kids along.

Here’s a great one for anyone who is living in Cork – Foghlaimid Education Network.

Read more here: Foghlaimid on Raising Ireland

Recipe: chorizo, chicken & chickpea casserole

Sometimes, I have to make the dinner in our house although mostly, I am The Baker & Ass Monkey is The Chef. He’s SO good at it, that whenever he delivers one of his amazing lunches or Xmas hams, my family take turns threatening me that they will in fact disown me if I ever break up with him. And I believe them – the man has a flair.

I, however, do not. I do not have the same connection to cooking savory foods that I have to making and baking things that are laden with chocolate and sugar. In fact, I’ve actually been known to burn soup. BUT! I have been trying a lot more in recent months to make some positive changes – partly because I’m mortified at my shortcomings, and mostly because I have a growing family to feed. The days of calling a Chipstix ‘n’ cheese bread bread roll and a bottle of wine ‘dinner’ are over. OH-VAH.

So here’s a nice easy and quick recipe, that even a dinner-making-challenged wotsit like me can handle. Enjoy! x

IMG_31731. Brown 3/4 x medium-sized chicken breasts in the frying pan with a bit of cooking oil chucked in. When they are done, pop them in a dish into a warm oven until you need them again.

2. In the same frying pan, cook 1 x chopped onion, 1 x garlic clove & 2 x chopped carrots for 5 mins.

3. Add 1 x tin of chopped tomatoes and bring to the boil. Cook for 5 mins, then add 200ml chicken stock and bring to the boil again.IMG_3174

4. Separately, fry some copped chorizo in oil until it is crispy (about half a packet – I love it but too much gives me the dreaded heartburn!)

5. Now add the cooked chicken, chorizo and 1 x tin of rinsed chickpeas to the veggie and stock mix.  Simmer for 20-25 mins.

IMG_31766. Eat!! It’s really nice with some toasted bread & butter.