My Children Are Driving Me Crazy

I met a friend for coffee the other morning and greeted her “How are you?” with an exasperated “My children are driving me crazy!”. It had been a busy morning, as usual and locating lost shoes, emptying unemptied lunch boxes, cleaning up cat poo and wrestling tangled hair meant I was frazzled. (Actually frazzled has become kind of a thing).

 Her response was “Don’t let anyone hear you say that. You’re supposed to be all Earth mother”. Am I, I thought? Because I write about my experiences of parenting? Because I teach classes? Because I’ve had home births and breastfed children past 2 years of age? Does that make me a particular type of mother? Does that mean I can’t have days where everything goes to pot and I make a complete mess out of parenting? Or that I can’t be stressed and completely lose my cool when I’m washing my teeth and turn around to see make up smeared all over the walls or the dog covered in Sudocreme (true story).

She didn’t mean anything by it. And I wasn’t offended but it got me thinking about perceptions and labels. I parent the way I parent because it works for me and my family. I teach the classes I teach because I have studied the psychology and philosophies behind them and they resonate with me. I am passionate about gentle parenting. I understand it works best for my kids. Do I get it right all the time? Unequivocally, no! Sometimes little arms are wrapped around me and I am told “You are the best Mom EVER”, other times doors are slammed in my face and “I hate you” is shouted at me (I’m not going to lie, that one hurts like hell.)

It’s really hard trying to find the balance between knowing the mother I want to be and being her. Every day brings challenges, sometimes I rise to them in a gracious way. Other days I am overwhelmed by responsibility and the kids bear the brunt. Sometimes I try my very best. Some days I am very far from my best and trying just seems like a step to far, so I do what I can. Every day is a new day and when I’m being crap and I’ve treated the kids badly by shouting or being unfair, then I own it, I apologise for it and we move on. I’m far from perfect. I make mistakes. And I’m certainly not trying to hold myself up as any kind of an example, other than within my own home. But I do hope that in being honest I let the Momma’s I work with know that we are in this together.

Earth mother, working mother, hippie momma, stay at home mother, crunchy mom. Routines, relaxed. Breastfeeding, bottle feeding, co sleeping, spoon feeding, baby led weaning, home birth, C-section, natural conception, IV.F., adoption, single, married, gay, straight. The only label that’s important in any of it is, simply, Mother.

So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Goodbye

I can barely bring myself to type the “word” Brexit.  Partially because it’s an utterly ridiculously constructed term and partially because the whole scenario is quite frankly, utterly ridiculous.  Like a ship without a sail, Britain drifts into uncharted waters.  Those that encouraged the maiden voyage, abandoned ship, rowing as fast as they could away from the outcome, their political reputations in tatters.  The rest of us hold our breaths and wait for the fall out.  That any right minded person voted in favour to leave is bizarre in the extreme to me, but democracy is democracy, right?

Whilst chatting to an English person recently, I asked what their opinion was. They said they would have voted leave and when I asked why, answered that they had witnessed huge changes in society, and not positive ones.  It led me to reflect on the very many positive changes that Europe has brought to us here in Ireland.

I’m an 80’s baby.  I grew up against the backdrop of dramatic change for women in Irish society.  In 1973 the European Economic Community opened its doors to us, dragging us kicking and screaming out of the dark ages. Before Europe it was legal for a man to rape his wife.  There was a compulsory ban on married women in the workforce - becoming a wife equaled unemployment.  It was legal to pay women less money for the same work.  There was no such thing as a deserted wives benefit, unmarried mother’s allowance or children’s allowance.
It was legal to fire a pregnant woman.  It was illegal to take the pill or to buy condoms.  There were no Women’s Aid or Rape Crisis centres.  Legislation in these and many, many more areas came because Europe told us it had to.  In fact, even when Ireland abandoned the marriage bar, our government tried to negotiate a clause whereby they could continue to pay women less than their male counterparts. Thankfully, Europe said no!

Domestic violence legislation, equal access to social welfare, maternity and paternity legislation, human rights and anti-discrimination legislation, family law, environmental legislation, all came as a result of European directives.  Directives that Ireland is sometimes lax in implementing.  In 1995 the State was forced to pay arrears to over 70,000 married women who had been discriminated against in social welfare payments, due to delays in implementing the 1985 Social Welfare Act.  And in 2012 we were ordered to pay €3.5 million by the European Court of Justice for failing to comply with environmental law.  The European Courts allow for domestic laws to be challenged on a daily basis. That is a very good thing.  It creates accountability and provides stability.
Yes, the European Union has problems and undoubtedly reform is needed but it is an overwhelming success. The European project emerged as a direct consequence of World War 2, during which over 60 million people were killed.  It is an alliance, a peaceful means of negotiation and economic integration and sadly, almost 60 years after its formation, all the Leave campaign have done is display a complete ignorance of the source of the legislation that they have benefited so hugely from. That, and attempt to legitimise racism. Bravo Boris!

5 in the bed & this Mammy said, I'm tired, I'm tired!!

Five in the bed and this Mammy said, I’m tired!!! The invasion of small people into our bed at night has been happening for so long now that I’m almost immune to it. Almost.

Usually a baby crying around 12, means he is the first to join us.  That’s ok. We’ll tag team on who gets up to bring him in, usually he calls for his Daddy, and who am I to argue? He comes into bed, has a drink of water, a snuggle and he usually settles straight to sleep.  Next come the patter of four-year old feet, usually after a bad dream or sometimes just because she’s feeling a little lonely and wants the comfort and reassurance of her parents.  She’ll give hugs and kisses, until eventually settling to sleep, her body twisted around one of ours.

Somewhere between 6 and 7am, the oldest Joyce will arrive, bounding in, full of 7-year old energy, ready to start the day with a family hug.  Mostly he’s greeted with a collective groan from the four prone entangled bodies that constitute the remainder of said family but it doesn’t deter him.

Our super king sized bed, that once felt like such a luxury, has become a necessity, and long may it last.  Someday, there won’t be any little feet making their way to me in the dark.  Small hands won’t reach for the safety of my arms.  I won’t smile as a warm breath is breathed onto my cheek.  I know the days pass quickly and my children will be grown and before too long I’ll be lying in this very bed worrying about where they are and who they are with.  My Mammy heart will long for these precious nights that we share now.

A recent South African study by paediatrician Dr Nils Bergman suggests that bed sharing or co-sleeping as it is more commonly called, is beneficial for the health of the baby’s heart, the quality of sleep and for parent-child bonding. I breastfed all three of my babies, so for me co-sleeping was the easy option.  Compared with sitting up at night, in the cold, trying to settle a hungry baby in their own room, snuggling and dozing in my own bed, while baby fed was always going to win.

Wherever baby sleeps, safety protocols apply. Surfaces should be firm. Bedding should be tight fitting to the mattress, which in turn should be tight fitting to the headboard.  Pillows, stuffed animals or blankets should not be near baby’s face.

There should be no space where a baby could roll and become trapped.  Babies should never sleep on a couch or other surface where there is a risk of becoming wedged between cushions.  Babies shouldn’t bed share with an adult who smokes, who has been drinking or taken medication, including over the counter medications.

Premature or low birth-weight babies appear to benefit greatly from co-sleeping nearby, but on a separate surface such as a dedicated co-sleeper attached to the side of the parental bed.  For us, knowing how to safely share our bed with our children has enriched family life hugely.

School's Out for Summer

School’s out for summer and this Mama couldn’t be happier. I find the structure and

routine of school days a little stifling, something that amuses me seeing as I always

considered myself a routine kind of girl. I think the free spirit in me is starting to

rebel! While I know that continuity and routine are important for helping children to

develop a sense of security, I also know that I absolutely love the freedom of getting

up in the morning, having a lazy breakfast of pancakes, chatting with the kids about

their dreams and then deciding on how best to spend our day.


I remember my own childhood summers, spent catching minnows in the river or

rambling up the side of Mount Leinster, making mud pies in the garden and playing

Hide and Go seek in Ballintemple, helping Daddy on the farm and stirring big pots of

strawberry jam with Mam. It’s those simple, sunny days that have stuck with me and

I want for my children to experience the same simplicity. We haven’t had a foreign

holiday for a couple of years now, choosing instead to stay and explore parts of

Ireland that we’ve never been to. Last summer we had an incredible trip to Northern

Ireland, starting with the Planetarium in Armagh, before heading on to Belfast and

spending an entire day at the fantastic W5 museum. We then spent a couple of

days renting a tiny cabin in Portrush, Antrim, braving the Carrick-a- Rede rope bridge

and learning about legend’s at the Giant’s Causeway before walking the Walls of

Derry and heading across to Donegal, to build sandcastles on the beach in

Bundoran. It was a fantastic holiday and the kids ask about going back constantly.

Carrick - a Rede Rope Bridge with Ruairí in back carry 

Giant's Causeway

We had a super week on Valentia Island too, where we holiday every year with my

husband’s family, sailing, kayaking, fishing and riding our bikes, jumping off the

water trampoline in the harbour, looking for fairies at Derrynane and flying kites on

Ballinskelligs beach.

Ballinskellings Beach, Kerry 

Kayaking from Valentia Island to Mainland 

Ireland has so much to offer. Yes, sadly you can’t rely on the weather and packing

sun cream, sun hats, woolie jumpers, umbrellas and wellies in the same bag can be

a massive pain, but it’s also really lovely to teach the children a little about our own

history. Learning how to pitch a tent into the mix, is a bonus in my book! I’m hoping

we’ll get lots of sunny day this summer, to explore New Grange and Glendalough

and visit Lough Tay, where we’ve never been. The beautiful Tomnafinnoge Woods

in Tinahely is an absolute must on a sunny day, stopping off at the Daisy Cottage

Farm café for some delicious home baked picnic treats . Wells House in Wexford

and the Dunmore Caves in Kilkenny will also be on our list. We’ll have days where

we’ll stay close to home and take in our favourites, Altamont Gardens, Huntington

Castle, Rathwood, Duckett’s Grove, Oak Park and of course, our very own back

garden. Happy holiday’s!

Tomnafinnogue Woods, Tinahely

Dancing Queen

More years than I care to remember have passed, and yet it feels like only yesterday since I sat my Leaving Cert.  The weather was beautiful and so was I, only I didn’t know it then.  I was an awkward 17-year old, not really sure of myself, or anyone else either and what I had yet to learn in life could have filled an infinite number of books.  The summer stretched out before me and life seemed very simple.  The big decisions had been made and filed away with the CAO form, waiting for August to come when exam results would determine a college and a career path.  I had wanted to study journalism, the blisters on my hands from English Paper 2, a testimony to my love of the language but I didn’t think I was good enough so instead of even trying, I choose a safety net. 

Often throughout my life I’ve thought of Robert Frost’s “two roads diverged in a yellow wood” and wondered if I had followed his lead, and taken the one less travelled where I might have ended up.  Sometimes I feel I played it safe.  I don’t have regrets as such but I do feel that I wasn’t brave enough or confident enough to stick my neck out, afraid of failing. 

The pressure of the Leaving Cert is a tremendous weight to bare, on teenage shoulders.  All those years of schooling, culminating in what you are led to believe is your one shot.  Trying to get all those dates and formulas that have been committed to memory out on paper, within a designated time frame – it’s a huge ask, and it’s definitely not a system that is reflective of people’s abilities.  Some perform well under pressure, some take exams in their stride, some panic, and some fail.

There are countless examples of extremely successful entrepreneurs who didn’t finish secondary school, let alone take state exams, but their ideas, passion and drive led them to great things.  There are others, like me, who studied different subjects over a period of years, changing careers to reflect a change in life circumstances. Of course college isn’t the only option.  Some pursue apprenticeships, post leaving cert courses or simply join the workforce.  Some repeat exams, striving for higher points second time around.  Some go on to take night courses. There are countless options and ultimately academic success is not a predicator of any one career path. 

At 17, it’s hard to picture how life will unfold.  You don’t know what opportunities will present themselves and what form they might take.  I know that education is hugely important.  I know that there has to be a yard stick by which to measure abilities but I also know that the years are short and that life has taught me and tested me more than any book or exam ever could.  Rather than being the end of my learning, it turns out that Leaving Cert was just the beginning.

Physical Fitness Is The First Requisite Of Happiness - Joseph Pilates

I don't usually do regrets. They are futile but having completed my pilates instructor training (it's a lifelong journey so I'll never be complete but you know what I mean!) my biggest regret is that I didn't do it years ago.  Today as my feet were on the ground beside my ears, I realised how far I've come. In 2006 I had back surgery, to remove a damaged disc. I've never known how I damaged it, I just know that I've never known pain like it. I couldn't walk. I was having numbness and nerve damage and the fear was that, without surgery, that damage would be permanent.   I was 26. There was talk of incontinence and wheelchairs and before long, I was in the operating theatre in Cappagh Orthopaedic hospital. I remember taking comfort from knowing my Grandmother had lain there before me, during one of many surgeries for her rheumatoid arthritis.

I rarely think of those days now. The weeks that followed surgery were some of the darkest in my life. I spent the best part of six weeks in bed, often lying flat, trying to drink through a straw and eat Weetabix because it was easy to swallow in that position.  I couldn’t work.  I couldn’t stay in my own home and was dependent on my mother to care for me.  I was encouraged to walk one kilometre every day and I remember the challenge of just putting one foot in front of the other. I was signed off from my surgeons care and advised to do intensive physio and to investigate pilates.   A few months of physio later, I started a new job and was completing my Masters by night. Then I was busy getting married and having babies.  Pilates was far from my mind.  Pain wasn’t and due to degenerative disc disease, I’ve pretty much had back pain since, managed with various combinations of drugs. 

Chronic pain is exhausting, emotionally and physically.  Over time the brain changes in such a way as to be on constant high alert, waiting to fire into emergency protective mode.  The great thing about the brain though is that it can be trained.  Cognitive behavioural therapy and mindfulness exercises can be used to reduce the experience of pain.  For me, it works. That and finally getting into a pilates class, there’s some really great ones around (Power Physio for Clinical Pilates and Pilates by Ciara for a great up-tempo session).  I don’t know why I didn’t listen before but I’m listening now and my body is moving in ways it never has. Devised by Joseph Pilates, it’s an exercise system that aims to develop optimal strength, flexibility, endurance and posture by strengthening the deep stabilising muscles of the spine, the pelvic floor and abdominals.  But it’s so much more. Pilates himself believed that his methods “develop the body uniformly, corrects posture, restores vitality, invigorates the mind and elevates the spirit”.

I’ve completed mat training and additional pre and postnatal training with Pilates Performance Ireland and am delighted to now offer pregnancy, mum and baby and beginners pilates classes.  I'm so excited by this next chapter and continuing to learn about how to develop my own strength and flexibility through the use of the wonderful apparatus devised by Joseph Pilates.  Exciting times. 

Check out www.thebabyroom.ie for more info 

Opting Out

First Holy Communion season is over for another year and this “opt out” family are breathing a sigh of relief.  Chicken Pox prevented us from accepting offers by friends to join them in celebrating their special day, which we would have been delighted to do, but receiving the sacrament itself, is just not for us.  Personally, I feel that religion has no place in state run schools.  I believe faith is a personal experience, which should be taught by the Church, in conjunction with parents, outside of school hours.

I choose to have my eldest son baptised.  And when I say I, I mean I.  My partner was vehemently opposed to it. I was raised Catholic, as was he, but in the years we had known each other, outside of weddings and funerals, I hadn’t set foot inside a church. He asked me to question my religion – What did it mean? What did I actually believe? Was Mary, the virgin mother of God? Did the first female really come from Adam’s rib? Did I believe in Transubstantiation? And much as I truly wanted to believe that someday I would be reunited with the important people that I have loved and lost, it just felt like an empty promise.

Very quickly it became apparent that while, I didn’t believe, Catholicism was so deeply ingrained in me that even thinking about not baptising my 1st born, caused me massive anxiety.  I didn’t want to disappoint our parents.  Both are incredibly supportive of our parenting choices and never put any pressure on us to conform in any way.  The fact that we were having a baby before being married, wasn’t treated as something shameful or sinful, as was the case for so many in previous generations, punished by a Catholic Church, whose legacy of workhouses, laundries and forced adoptions will forever stain our history books.

In the end, the deciding factor became school enrolment, and coupled with a sense of duty, our son was Christened.  Being Baptised in order to obtain a school place became less of an issue outside Dublin, so our other children weren’t Christened and even though our son attends a Catholic primary school, he will not make his Communion.  He’s OK with this.  He believes in science and evolution.  Some people say “but you have a choice to send him to a Catholic school”.  90% of primary schools are Catholic.  6% are other religions. 4% are none.  That’s not choice.  Yes, Carlow has a wonderful Educate Together school but that would mean removing my children from their local community.  Some people say “but he’ll miss out”.  On what exactly? We have plenty of special family days. What I am concerned about is him missing out on his education by spending class time in the Church.

I know faith is extremely important to countless people and I respect that and champion their right to celebrate it, in their own time and at their own expense. Ireland is not a catholic country anymore.  We have sex before we get married, we use contraception, we “allow” same sex marriage, we get divorced – all things the Catholic church says are wrong.  Our culture is diverse, many nationalities, religions and none. Should my children decide to pursue a faith when they are old enough to understand what it entails, then I will actively encourage and support their choices.  For now, we are embracing the motto “Be the change you want to see” and are opting out and we hope that the Department of Education catches up.