Tag Archives: Jacob

Entertaining 5-Year-Olds With Broken Arms On Summer Hols

Don’t be disappointed but this isn’t actually a helpful, informative piece about what you should do if your 5-year-old should fracture his elbow on summer hols.

No. This is an appeal for HELP.

There are 5-ish weeks left to go before school decides to get over their (very tanned by now) selves and start back to educating our kids so WTF am I to do with the one-arm bandit until then?

@skinnybatchdeli pancakes being put to good use ?

A post shared by Sharyn Hayden (@raisingireland) on

He had a fall at my brother’s wedding (lovely day, jesus they really got the weather and all the gorgeous pics and we drank all the gorgeous prosecco too) – and Ass Monkey and I had to transport him to Temple Street at 11pm via taxi..

..because we were fairly shit-faced by then.

I managed to change into a t-shirt and jeans but still had a full face of makeup and false eyelashes on so I looked FABULOUS as I burst through the doors in dramatic fashion, insisting on carrying my son wrapped in a blanket who DID NOT have a broken ankle and was well able to walk himself in, truth be told.

(Although it was very late and cold and he was in a little bit of shock so I’ll forgive myself that one)

Anyway, featured elbow, they said. 6 weeks in a cast, they said.

FUCK MY LIFE.

I said.

He’s adjusted quite well, to be fair, and is rocking the sympathy vote with the ladies and anyone else who enquires as to the presence of the cast.

‘My uncle dropped me’, is the story he insists on telling everyone, which isn’t true but I’m enjoying the reactions so I’m saying nothing.

Me? I’m not adjusting so great. There is now only room for me, him and the bright blue cast in our bed at night.

Ass Monkey has been relegated to Jacobs bedroom – it is honestly the most use it’s gotten since we’ve moved into the house 3 years ago to be honest.

Kiddie camps have been a welcome relief until now, those 3 precious hours to yourself in the morning can never be underestimated.. but they finish this Friday.

Then what, people? Entertain the one-arm sympathy junkie by myself?!

HELLLLPPPP!!!!

Jacob, School And Sad Notes In His School Bag

Master Jacob is almost finished his first year of being a Big School attendee and so far, so like a duck to water.

I anticipated that he would be clingy at the beginning and kick off the way he used to at creche and preschool, begging me not to go and bawling his little heart out.

But on those first few days he just skipped in like he owned the place.

Says I to Ass Monkey; “False start. I give him a week and he’ll be super-glued to our ankles, demanding to be brought home from this godforsaken place called school. We’ll be morto in front of his teacher because no other kid will ever have loved their parents so much. MORTO, I tells ya”.

Ahem.

There have been no clingy moments from our Jacob. He pulls the ole “I don’t want to go to school” when we’re trying to get him dressed in the mornings but that’s more to do with his disinterest in being dragged away from his Lego than anything else.

The things is  – he really likes school. He likes his mates, he likes his teacher, he likes his after school activities and he even likes his homework.

“I have catch-up to do” he’ll sigh as he dumps the contents of his bag on the kitchen table. And then he’ll spend the next half an hour filling in the gaps of his latest epic piece of art.

On the second week of school we had a note sent home.

“I got a sad note” my little man said, extending the piece of paper my way.

The ‘Sad Note’ was a message from teacher to say there had been a lot of rough play in the yard that day and despite being asked to stop, Jacob and his friends didn’t and so.. home with a Sad Note.

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Like butter wouldn’t feckin’ melt

He and I had a word about doing what he’s asked in the school yard and respecting his teachers by listening to what they have to say.

We signed that one and sent it back in with an apology. Teacher explained that the class are very physical this year and she’s doing her best to put a lid on it before someone gets hurt.

Two weeks after that we got another sad note for the same offense. This time grandad was asked to have a word – I was bleedin mortified.

I don’t know what was said between Jacob and his hero Granddad but I believe there was some sort of arrangement around lollipops for good behaviour and that a cap of 5 Sad Notes in any given school career was issued.

Granddad said he only got 5 in his lifetime (the liar).

Yesterday, Jacob pulled a note out of his bag and with solemn face said, “Mammy, I got another sad note”.

I instantly got annoyed and was starting to raise my voice with; ‘Jacob! You absolutely cannot get another Sad Note home! What did mammy and grandad tell you about…”

And then he grinned.

“Just kidding” he says. “This one is about tennis”.

That school is making him WAY too smart.

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