This week marks a sombre anniversary for Northern Ireland, my home.
Many readers will know and understand that Northern Ireland has a deeply troubled past. Troubles borne of sectarian hatred, distrust, unease, and intolerance. The province has endured over three decades of bombing and shooting campaigns. Physical destruction, economic decline and human loss.
Some of you will not understand, because more than thirty years of mindless violence, countless deaths of, for the most part, innocent people, is absolutely incomprehensible.
I have lived there for most of my life, and have yet to understand any of it completely.
At the risk of producing a history lesson, let me briefly explain that Northern Ireland is geographically part of the island of Ireland, but is politically part of the United Kingdom. In its simplest form, the root of the conflict played out in Northern Ireland stems from the fact that certain, extreme, factions staunchly protect their British identity (Loyalists), and other equally extreme groups work by whatever means they consider necessary to bring about a United Ireland (Republicans), free from British involvement. Each side claims their version of history as the reason their position should prevail.
I use the present tense because, although peace has been achieved to a large extent in Northern Ireland right now, it is uneasy and delicate at times.
A mistake often made by outsiders is to equate Republicanism with Catholics, and Loyalism with Protestants. To do so is naive and ignores the position of the majority of people in Northern Ireland, more moderate in their views and whose priority above all others is peace and an end to violence and suffering.
The political environment in Northern Ireland is extremely polarized, and the vocal minorities on both sides historically impeded progressive compromise attempted at many junctures by more moderate politicians.
In 1994 a ceasefire was called by the Provisional IRA (Irish Republican Army) – followed not long thereafter by a ceasefire proclaimed by Loyalist paramilitary groups. Hope abounded and a collective sigh of relief was released by those of us in the North as we watched political talks actually produce results, accompanied by the promise of a departure from the bomb and the bullet, a brighter future ahead. This political process attempted to put into action the will of the moderate majority in Northern Ireland, those of us who wanted to co-exist with our neighbours – whatever their creed, or political affiliation, in peace. To live normal lives, without fear.
The peace process gained impetus through hard work and negotiations between local politicians, assisted in no small part by the Irish and British governments, and by George Mitchell, sent to mediate the negotiations by President Bill Clinton. There was a palpable excitement among the ordinary people of Northern Ireland that we would emerge from the dark days of violence, and we would do it soon. President and Mrs. Clinton’s visit to Northern Ireland in November 1995 was further proof that we were leaving the sorry past behind, and that Northern Ireland was somewhere worthy of international focus.
In the background however, dissidents, unhappy with what they saw as the ‘sellout’ by Republican politicians plotted and attempted further attacks. Calling themselves ‘The Real IRA’ and ‘The Continuity IRA’, they pushed to carry on the paramilitary bombing campaigns in their pursuit of a United Ireland. They bombed town centres, injuring many and damaging property and local economies. Security forces were successful in thwarting some attacks.
I, like many others, did not consider the Real IRA to be a credible threat. I believed that the Provisional IRA, who by this time were supporting the political process, would keep them in check and that the security forces would have the intelligence and resources to prevent them gaining enough traction to become a credible threat.
I couldn't have been more wrong.
On Saturday August 15th 1998, the Real IRA succeeded in perpetrating the single most horrific atrocity in the history of the troubles. In the process, 29 vibrant, happy, oblivious and some of them tiny, lives – as hopeful as the rest of us for a better future, were obliterated.
Evil, cowardly people without the vision nor the respect for humanity to engage with the people they claimed to represent and work for the greater good, rose once more and attempted to force ‘British withdrawal’ from Northern Ireland. They wreaked havoc in a busy town centre, Omagh, Co.Tyrone. They achieved nothing, except mass destruction and widespread human devastation.
During the troubles, the ‘normal’ protocol for a terrorist attack was a warning to the police, a radio or TV station. You should also know that over the course of the troubles, many hoax bomb threats were also made. People have been evacuated from public buildings and streets - only to learn later that it was a hoax. I've been through it several times myself.
Warnings were called in for the Omagh bomb but the message was either deliberately misleading, or it was misunderstood – I’m not sure it’s ever been determined which. The target mentioned was the courthouse at the top of a hill in the main shopping street in Omagh – [so chosen because it was a building representative of the British Establishment]. In a frantic attempt to usher the public away from the courthouse and evacuate the area – police directed people down the hill, away from the courthouse as fast as they could.
A car packed with 500lbs of home-made explosives awaited them at the bottom of the hill. Unknowingly, in attempting to shield the public, police instead shepherded people toward certain death.
Fourteen women, six men and nine children, two of them babies of 20 and 18 months old, were killed. Not included in the numbers reported, but two little lives I always remember when I think of the Omagh bombing were the twins that Avril Monaghan, one of the women killed, and mother of the 18 month old, was carrying. She was seven months pregnant. All told, 31 lives lost. Catholics, Protestants, a Mormon schoolboy, and visitors from Donegal in the Republic of Ireland, and Spanish exchange students perished.
Hundreds of people were left with horrific injuries, their lives changed forever, along with the lives of those who lost their loved ones. Broken families – their existence left in the same tatters as the buildings of that busy Omagh street.
I was on the first of many return visits to Florida just after this bomb happened, and I brought with me the newspapers to share the story with those whom I was visiting. I shed many tears looking at the 29 faces in those news reports, and I shed them now as I look at them once more. Each one someone’s mother, son, father, brother, sister, daughter, baby… How many more tears have been shed in homes in Omagh, Donegal, and Spain over the last ten years? And for what?
Although the Real IRA claimed responsibility for the attack, no group or individual has been successfully prosecuted for this crime. Families of the victims have fought tirelessly to have the perpetrators brought to justice, but thus far the campaign has been fruitless.
Civil actions have also been brought but no satisfying result has given these families the sense of closure that one would imagine necessary to help process what has happened to them. I think this adds to the enormity of the tragedy.
The wider implication of the Omagh bombing coming four years after the paramilitary ceasefires was fear once more. The province as a whole was worried that this tragedy would bring more pain and destruction in the form of retaliatory attacks, which was the normal modus operandi of paramilitaries on both sides following such attacks in the past. Mercifully, this did not happen. The Omagh Bomb did not derail the peace process – something which had it happened would have made all the more pointless the lives lost that day.
While there is no doubt that the outrage felt by so many at the scale of the Omagh tragedy accelerated the journey towards lasting peace, ironically, the families of those who died, and those injured are somewhat victimized once more by the peace process. By virtue of the fact that politicians are focused on the future, and leaving the legacy of violence behind, the support from the police, elected officials and government agencies that these families need to secure justice, isn't there. They are pretty much left to push for justice on their own.
This week, ten years on, my thoughts are with the families of the 31 people lost in Omagh on August 15th 1998. I pray for them, and for those so severely injured, physically, and emotionally. I draw inspiration from those who have triumphed over their injuries and loss, and trust that those who still struggle will find the help and healing they need.
I continue to pray for healing in Northern Ireland, where just today three firebombs have been made safe by Army Bomb experts , like I said, peace is uneasy, and delicate.
I pray for the rest of us – that in this age where bombings in foreign lands are reported with alarming frequency, and sadly often as a side story to the ‘main event’ of a sordid Politician’s affair, I pray that we never become blasé about such stories and that we never fail to be outraged by them. To maintain our sense of justice and protest to those whom will listen and take action…
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
Ten Lessons from a Day at the Beach
1. Assuming the camera is where you *thought* you last saw it in the car is a big mistake. Always double check before you leave that you actually have the camera and can take photos of your sticky, sandy kids and don't have to rely on a measly blog post to preserve the memories!
2. Shaving your legs an hour before you spray on sun protection and get into salt water is a BAD idea - of gargantuan proportions.
3. While taking meticulous care to spray on sun protection all over your arms and legs, and asking your spouse to ensure that your back is adequately covered - it is always good to remember that your neck and the top of your chest area could also benefit from said spray. Otherwise you may spend the rest of the day cursing and dousing yourself in aloe.
4. Maybe you need to go to the beach more often so that your three year old kid can correctly identify the dusty, granular substance on her hands and doesn't have to tell you 'Mommy, my hands are covered in sea dirt'.
5. Don't assume that your normally quiet younger child is the shy timid type. Revel in his willingness to be knocked over by waves, laugh and pick himself up and brace himself for the next round. Enjoy his socializing with neighbouring beach goers, and his loud enthusiastic 'BYE's to them as they leave.
6. A navy one piece bathing costume is totally unflattering - time to buy a new one Annie (preferably one that you didn't last wear when you were six months pregnant!).
7. If you're squeamish about swimming in seaweed littered ocean - don't stand like an eejit trying to throw eleventy billion little pieces of it back towards the shore (only for the retracting waves to pull it right back at you), or certain Irish ladies standing at the water's edge with her kids might just split her sides laughing at you.
8. Don't expect that there are working toilets in the beach bathrooms, or that there will be a clean square inch of floor on which to stand and change out of your wet, sandy bathing costume. Although contorting yourself in all manner of positions to do so, while holding on to your clothes and towel - without bare feet or garments touching this floor could earn you a spot on the US Olympic Gymnastics team.
9. One plastic trash bag is never enough when you have two adults, two kids, diapers, wipes, and lunch leftovers.
10. Count down the minutes until next week when you plan to do this all over again. (Packing the camera, now!)
2. Shaving your legs an hour before you spray on sun protection and get into salt water is a BAD idea - of gargantuan proportions.
3. While taking meticulous care to spray on sun protection all over your arms and legs, and asking your spouse to ensure that your back is adequately covered - it is always good to remember that your neck and the top of your chest area could also benefit from said spray. Otherwise you may spend the rest of the day cursing and dousing yourself in aloe.
4. Maybe you need to go to the beach more often so that your three year old kid can correctly identify the dusty, granular substance on her hands and doesn't have to tell you 'Mommy, my hands are covered in sea dirt'.
5. Don't assume that your normally quiet younger child is the shy timid type. Revel in his willingness to be knocked over by waves, laugh and pick himself up and brace himself for the next round. Enjoy his socializing with neighbouring beach goers, and his loud enthusiastic 'BYE's to them as they leave.
6. A navy one piece bathing costume is totally unflattering - time to buy a new one Annie (preferably one that you didn't last wear when you were six months pregnant!).
7. If you're squeamish about swimming in seaweed littered ocean - don't stand like an eejit trying to throw eleventy billion little pieces of it back towards the shore (only for the retracting waves to pull it right back at you), or certain Irish ladies standing at the water's edge with her kids might just split her sides laughing at you.
8. Don't expect that there are working toilets in the beach bathrooms, or that there will be a clean square inch of floor on which to stand and change out of your wet, sandy bathing costume. Although contorting yourself in all manner of positions to do so, while holding on to your clothes and towel - without bare feet or garments touching this floor could earn you a spot on the US Olympic Gymnastics team.
9. One plastic trash bag is never enough when you have two adults, two kids, diapers, wipes, and lunch leftovers.
10. Count down the minutes until next week when you plan to do this all over again. (Packing the camera, now!)
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Too good not to share!
I made this luscious lemon and lime confection yesterday and had to share the recipe.
I have [at last] joined Twitter (late to every fad, I figured why break the habit of a lifetime and that's why I'm only getting around to it now.) and, having chatted a little on Twitter with Deborah, of Tast.ie and Spicendipity fame I got a baking bug and poked around in my recipe books and found this simple recipe and gave it a try.
This is the lightest, tangiest, most delicious cake I have ever made. It's super easy to do, too - so go get the stuff and make it, today, k? I PROMISE you'll be glad you did.
LEMON & LIME LOVE CAKE
This tangy loaf is known by lots of different names, but Love Cake is particularly appropriate since everyone who tries it finds it impossible to resist.
Makes 1 Loaf
6 tbsp butter, at room temperature, plus extra for greasing
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/4 cups sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup milk
Grated peel of 1 lemon and juice of 1/2 lemon
Grated peel and juice of one lime
Preheat oven to 325oF. Grease and flour a 9x5in loaf pan. Mix together the flour, baking powder and salt in a large bowl.
Put the butter in another bowl and add 3/4 cup of the sugar. Beat until pale and creamy, then gradually beat in the eggs, adding a little flour if the mixture shows any sign of curdling. Gradually add the remaining four, alternating with the milk, beating well after each addition. Stir in the lemon and lime peel.
Spoon the mixture into the prepared loaf pan and level the surface. Bake 40-50 minutes, until a skewer inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Invert the loaf onto a wire rack, then turn it right way up.
Mix the citrus juices with the remaining sugar*. Put a tray underneath the rack and spoon the sugar mixture over the top of the loaf, letting it run down the sides slightly. Allow to cool before slicing.
Taken from 'Pig Out: 60 fab recipes for sweet indulgence'.
*(next time I'll use powdered sugar instead of regular sugar for this as my glaze was slightly gritty and I would prefer it more smooth in texture.)
This one's definitely going into my regular baking repertoire.
I have [at last] joined Twitter (late to every fad, I figured why break the habit of a lifetime and that's why I'm only getting around to it now.) and, having chatted a little on Twitter with Deborah, of Tast.ie and Spicendipity fame I got a baking bug and poked around in my recipe books and found this simple recipe and gave it a try.
This is the lightest, tangiest, most delicious cake I have ever made. It's super easy to do, too - so go get the stuff and make it, today, k? I PROMISE you'll be glad you did.
LEMON & LIME LOVE CAKE
This tangy loaf is known by lots of different names, but Love Cake is particularly appropriate since everyone who tries it finds it impossible to resist.
Makes 1 Loaf
6 tbsp butter, at room temperature, plus extra for greasing
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, plus extra for dusting
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/4 cups sugar
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1/2 cup milk
Grated peel of 1 lemon and juice of 1/2 lemon
Grated peel and juice of one lime
Preheat oven to 325oF. Grease and flour a 9x5in loaf pan. Mix together the flour, baking powder and salt in a large bowl.
Put the butter in another bowl and add 3/4 cup of the sugar. Beat until pale and creamy, then gradually beat in the eggs, adding a little flour if the mixture shows any sign of curdling. Gradually add the remaining four, alternating with the milk, beating well after each addition. Stir in the lemon and lime peel.
Spoon the mixture into the prepared loaf pan and level the surface. Bake 40-50 minutes, until a skewer inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean. Invert the loaf onto a wire rack, then turn it right way up.
Mix the citrus juices with the remaining sugar*. Put a tray underneath the rack and spoon the sugar mixture over the top of the loaf, letting it run down the sides slightly. Allow to cool before slicing.
Taken from 'Pig Out: 60 fab recipes for sweet indulgence'.
*(next time I'll use powdered sugar instead of regular sugar for this as my glaze was slightly gritty and I would prefer it more smooth in texture.)
This one's definitely going into my regular baking repertoire.
Friday, August 8, 2008
What am I doing wrong?
Miss E is testing every last ounce of patience I have these days.
She will be four years old in October, and yet we are seeing hissy fits and temper tantrums that would make any two year old proud.
We had turned a major corner in this regard months and months ago and I credited Supernanny with saving our sanity. Alas, my trusty Supernanny techniques are failing me now and I've got no idea what to do now!
Is it her age? Is it that it's summer and she's antsy and bored with just me to entertain her?
She's set to go back to Preschool on August 18th and while one might say 'great - she's going to school, a nice break for me, and some stimulation for her', I have to admit I'm scared! I'm afraid she'll give her teacher a hard time.
Miss E shows no discrimination in terms of where she throws a tantrum and it MORTIFIES me!
Last week I had great chats with her about how to make her feelings known without stomping, whining, crying, screaming or shouting - I had thought we were making progress. We discussed consequences if she behaved poorly or didn't listen to mommy - and last week I followed through with the consequences and she had no tv for a whole day, and no swim class the following day.
This bought us a week's worth of good behaviour and once again I was sure we'd turned a corner and that this regression to tantrumhood was a temporary glitch.
Ach - SO not the case. Yesterday she was the last kid in the pool at swim class for a good 5 minutes - she was huffing because she wasn't 'first' to do whatever task they were working on. In the end the teacher had to physically drag her out of the pool, and once she set her down on the deck she took off, having me run after her like a lunatic to catch her. Of course all the other kids and their moms are watching this spectacle.
It's all I can do to stop myself screaming back at this kid these days.
I feel completely helpless and inadequate.
I rarely see kids acting up as much as Miss E does in public, rarely. And if I do, it's generally a child much younger than she. This leads me to the conclusion that it's me - I'm doing something wrong.
So, mighty internets - tell me PLEASE how to fix this!
She will be four years old in October, and yet we are seeing hissy fits and temper tantrums that would make any two year old proud.
We had turned a major corner in this regard months and months ago and I credited Supernanny with saving our sanity. Alas, my trusty Supernanny techniques are failing me now and I've got no idea what to do now!
Is it her age? Is it that it's summer and she's antsy and bored with just me to entertain her?
She's set to go back to Preschool on August 18th and while one might say 'great - she's going to school, a nice break for me, and some stimulation for her', I have to admit I'm scared! I'm afraid she'll give her teacher a hard time.
Miss E shows no discrimination in terms of where she throws a tantrum and it MORTIFIES me!
Last week I had great chats with her about how to make her feelings known without stomping, whining, crying, screaming or shouting - I had thought we were making progress. We discussed consequences if she behaved poorly or didn't listen to mommy - and last week I followed through with the consequences and she had no tv for a whole day, and no swim class the following day.
This bought us a week's worth of good behaviour and once again I was sure we'd turned a corner and that this regression to tantrumhood was a temporary glitch.
Ach - SO not the case. Yesterday she was the last kid in the pool at swim class for a good 5 minutes - she was huffing because she wasn't 'first' to do whatever task they were working on. In the end the teacher had to physically drag her out of the pool, and once she set her down on the deck she took off, having me run after her like a lunatic to catch her. Of course all the other kids and their moms are watching this spectacle.
It's all I can do to stop myself screaming back at this kid these days.
I feel completely helpless and inadequate.
I rarely see kids acting up as much as Miss E does in public, rarely. And if I do, it's generally a child much younger than she. This leads me to the conclusion that it's me - I'm doing something wrong.
So, mighty internets - tell me PLEASE how to fix this!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
They're only markers!
Dear Kate Gosselin,
I realize that you have eight beautiful children and can imagine the amount of work a family of this size generates, I really can.
I understand that a family of ten will generate mountains of laundry to rival the Rockies, I get that.
However, markers? You wouldn't let your kids use markers in the Crayola Factory (where I'd be willing to bet they use the washable markers especially for little visitors)?
Come ON!
My heart was breaking watching an episode of Jon and Kate plus 8 last night. Kids in the Crayola Factory - what could be more dream worthy than that? Excited to use the many different art supplies available and actually have FUN, these kids were jumping out of themselves and pumped to get to use markers when Jon let them do it. You didn't like this though and immediately put an end to it, citing interminable laundry and not wanting kids to be seen with marker on their clothes. The kids, especially Cara and Maddy were devastated.
Washable markers are magic, they come right out in the wash - even without pre-treating the stains. If this doesn't work, Crayola.com have wonderful and plentiful tips on removing stains from their products, should you encounter these. And if all this fails, and your kids went home after having a great day at the Crayola Factory with a few marker marks on their clothes, in the scheme of things, is this the worst thing that could happen?
If you're going to take your kids on a fun day out - let them do that! Have fun.
Oh, and never underestimate the calming, relaxing effect of colouring with crayons or markers yourself. Sit down at the table with your kids - get those colouring books out - heck be reckless, breakout the dreaded MARKERS, and try it yourself. Enjoy the therapeutic benefits of doing nothing but shading in your images. Look at the delight on your children's faces when they have you all to themselves, colouring with them. I promise, you won't regret it.
Yours sincerely,
Blooming Marvelous.
I realize that you have eight beautiful children and can imagine the amount of work a family of this size generates, I really can.
I understand that a family of ten will generate mountains of laundry to rival the Rockies, I get that.
However, markers? You wouldn't let your kids use markers in the Crayola Factory (where I'd be willing to bet they use the washable markers especially for little visitors)?
Come ON!
My heart was breaking watching an episode of Jon and Kate plus 8 last night. Kids in the Crayola Factory - what could be more dream worthy than that? Excited to use the many different art supplies available and actually have FUN, these kids were jumping out of themselves and pumped to get to use markers when Jon let them do it. You didn't like this though and immediately put an end to it, citing interminable laundry and not wanting kids to be seen with marker on their clothes. The kids, especially Cara and Maddy were devastated.
Washable markers are magic, they come right out in the wash - even without pre-treating the stains. If this doesn't work, Crayola.com have wonderful and plentiful tips on removing stains from their products, should you encounter these. And if all this fails, and your kids went home after having a great day at the Crayola Factory with a few marker marks on their clothes, in the scheme of things, is this the worst thing that could happen?
If you're going to take your kids on a fun day out - let them do that! Have fun.
Oh, and never underestimate the calming, relaxing effect of colouring with crayons or markers yourself. Sit down at the table with your kids - get those colouring books out - heck be reckless, breakout the dreaded MARKERS, and try it yourself. Enjoy the therapeutic benefits of doing nothing but shading in your images. Look at the delight on your children's faces when they have you all to themselves, colouring with them. I promise, you won't regret it.
Yours sincerely,
Blooming Marvelous.
Monday, July 28, 2008
What a difference a year makes!
Roughly this time last year, we were gearing up to see a bunch of specialists about Jay's teeny, tiny, little hearing issue. An issue that didn't feel so minor at times, but that only very sensitive technology can detect. Despite my gut instinct telling me he could hear just fine, that the technology was picking something up was enough to have me worrying myself sick over this.
I'm happy to say that my frame of mind, and attitude has improved a hundred fold since I wrote this in August last year. It took me a while - but eventually I let go of the worry and left it all in God's hands.
At our last Audiology appointment, the Audiologist was very pleased that everything was still stable, that Jay was obviously communicating, and she said she didn't want to see him for six months, instead of the regular three month appointments we'd been scheduling up until then. His last appointment was when he was 18 months, and he'll go again in October when he's 2. I am thrilled with this, since she had previously told me that she wouldn't stretch the appointments out until after he turned 2. The Audiologist is obviously content that he's developing fine, and for that I'm grateful.
The Audiologist did tell me that she and perhaps a speech pathologist would see him in October - and, they'd want to know how many words he uses. I've been keeping closer track of his vocabulary and am proud to say that he has over 70 words at 22 months, and is adding new ones on a daily basis. He is quite the little chatterbox. He also loves to sing and can pitch perfect, recite Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and the ABC song.
We're on the countdown now to this little fella's second birthday - something I can't quite believe. A feel sad looking back that I spent so much of his early months worrying every time I looked at him - wondering what he wasn't hearing. I know now he hears plenty - everything he needs to hear - and I trust and pray that it stays that way.
(Blogger is being a pain - and it's not letting me post my picture of Jay in his supreme cuteness - hmph!)
I'm happy to say that my frame of mind, and attitude has improved a hundred fold since I wrote this in August last year. It took me a while - but eventually I let go of the worry and left it all in God's hands.
At our last Audiology appointment, the Audiologist was very pleased that everything was still stable, that Jay was obviously communicating, and she said she didn't want to see him for six months, instead of the regular three month appointments we'd been scheduling up until then. His last appointment was when he was 18 months, and he'll go again in October when he's 2. I am thrilled with this, since she had previously told me that she wouldn't stretch the appointments out until after he turned 2. The Audiologist is obviously content that he's developing fine, and for that I'm grateful.
The Audiologist did tell me that she and perhaps a speech pathologist would see him in October - and, they'd want to know how many words he uses. I've been keeping closer track of his vocabulary and am proud to say that he has over 70 words at 22 months, and is adding new ones on a daily basis. He is quite the little chatterbox. He also loves to sing and can pitch perfect, recite Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and the ABC song.
We're on the countdown now to this little fella's second birthday - something I can't quite believe. A feel sad looking back that I spent so much of his early months worrying every time I looked at him - wondering what he wasn't hearing. I know now he hears plenty - everything he needs to hear - and I trust and pray that it stays that way.
(Blogger is being a pain - and it's not letting me post my picture of Jay in his supreme cuteness - hmph!)
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Back, and busy.
Well, we're baaacccckkk! And, have been back in Florida for almost three weeks now which is very hard to believe.
Ireland was great - wet, and cold, but great!
Just like last year, it was so nice to be in my other 'home'. The kids had a blast - why wouldn't they, spoiled with attention and surprises every day? I also enjoyed the constant company, a lot of it with adults, too.
Coming down from this 'high' of familial attention and companionship hasn't been easy on the kids, or myself to be honest. I've pretty much had to detox Miss E from getting her way (anything for a quiet life, you know how that goes), and have employed many more of Supernanny's techniques than I've needed to in quite a while - but it's working, and slowly we're getting back into our groove.
I recently found myself slipping back into that 'funk' I described a while back. I could feel it happening, but didn't have the energy to fight it. This wasn't helped by the fact that I got sick last week with a horrible stomach flu - great for losing a few pounds though, which is never a bad thing. I'm focusing on my treadmill again and although the muscles are objecting, I'm feeling better.
The kids were sick a lot when we were in Ireland - Jay practically wasted away before my eyes. Miss E and Jay were bombarded with heavy colds, vomiting and diarrhea, Jay had the added discomfort of a simultaneous ear and throat infection - good times eh? My little guy is just that, little. He can't afford to lose any weight - at 20 months, he's not much over 20lbs - so when he gets sick and starts dropping the weight, I get very anxious. All my family reassured me that he'd bounce back, especially hubs Grandmother who's raised sixteen (yes, 16!)children of her own - 'he'll bounce back, they all do' and she was right.
We are fighting fit now though, physically and mentally, and ready to enjoy the rest of the summer, before preschool starts and we get back to that routine. We've all had to acclimatize once more to the Florida summer though. At 9am each day Miss E has a swim class - and Jay and I sweat our butts off watching her - at 9am! How awful is it that I'm willing on the weeks so we can cool down a bit? There's nothing like wishing your life away.
My sister's wedding was amazing. She looked absolutely fabulous. Her ceremony was wonderful and the reception was a blast.
Miss E was flower girl, and she did a great job, even if she couldn't quite be coaxed into all the photographs!
The weather was horrendous, but it didn't dampen anyone's enjoyment, at all. My sister and her husband, lucky things, just got back from honeymoon in Rome and Sorrento.
I'm still catching up with all things stateside. I've been keeping a close eye on the presidential candidate coverage, and am frustrated to say the least at the less than objective reviews each candidate gets depending on which source I watch. This is where I miss Tim Russert - I'm so sad that he died. I credit this man with helping me understand the whole electoral process here, the primaries, caucuses, delegates etc. I feel bad that he isn't here to see this election pan out. He had such enthusiasm for his job, and for the whole political scene in general. My heart goes out to his wife and son.
People are still complaining about the price of gas I see - and I can understand to a point, but after seeing that Northern Irish drivers pay the equivalent of $11 a gallon, I don't feel like I have a right to complain about $4 here. I also drive a very thirsty car, and while I wish it cost less to run, it was our choice to buy this vehicle, and now we live with it. Besides, nobody, not even dealers, want to buy SUVs around here, so we're stuck with it, what's the point in complaining?
With that, I've got to run, load my kids up into my gas guzzler and head right down for this swim class - I have the oddest feeling that we're going to be late, again!
Looking forward to catching up some more, soon.
Ireland was great - wet, and cold, but great!
Just like last year, it was so nice to be in my other 'home'. The kids had a blast - why wouldn't they, spoiled with attention and surprises every day? I also enjoyed the constant company, a lot of it with adults, too.
Coming down from this 'high' of familial attention and companionship hasn't been easy on the kids, or myself to be honest. I've pretty much had to detox Miss E from getting her way (anything for a quiet life, you know how that goes), and have employed many more of Supernanny's techniques than I've needed to in quite a while - but it's working, and slowly we're getting back into our groove.
I recently found myself slipping back into that 'funk' I described a while back. I could feel it happening, but didn't have the energy to fight it. This wasn't helped by the fact that I got sick last week with a horrible stomach flu - great for losing a few pounds though, which is never a bad thing. I'm focusing on my treadmill again and although the muscles are objecting, I'm feeling better.
The kids were sick a lot when we were in Ireland - Jay practically wasted away before my eyes. Miss E and Jay were bombarded with heavy colds, vomiting and diarrhea, Jay had the added discomfort of a simultaneous ear and throat infection - good times eh? My little guy is just that, little. He can't afford to lose any weight - at 20 months, he's not much over 20lbs - so when he gets sick and starts dropping the weight, I get very anxious. All my family reassured me that he'd bounce back, especially hubs Grandmother who's raised sixteen (yes, 16!)children of her own - 'he'll bounce back, they all do' and she was right.
We are fighting fit now though, physically and mentally, and ready to enjoy the rest of the summer, before preschool starts and we get back to that routine. We've all had to acclimatize once more to the Florida summer though. At 9am each day Miss E has a swim class - and Jay and I sweat our butts off watching her - at 9am! How awful is it that I'm willing on the weeks so we can cool down a bit? There's nothing like wishing your life away.
My sister's wedding was amazing. She looked absolutely fabulous. Her ceremony was wonderful and the reception was a blast.
Miss E was flower girl, and she did a great job, even if she couldn't quite be coaxed into all the photographs!
The weather was horrendous, but it didn't dampen anyone's enjoyment, at all. My sister and her husband, lucky things, just got back from honeymoon in Rome and Sorrento.
I'm still catching up with all things stateside. I've been keeping a close eye on the presidential candidate coverage, and am frustrated to say the least at the less than objective reviews each candidate gets depending on which source I watch. This is where I miss Tim Russert - I'm so sad that he died. I credit this man with helping me understand the whole electoral process here, the primaries, caucuses, delegates etc. I feel bad that he isn't here to see this election pan out. He had such enthusiasm for his job, and for the whole political scene in general. My heart goes out to his wife and son.
People are still complaining about the price of gas I see - and I can understand to a point, but after seeing that Northern Irish drivers pay the equivalent of $11 a gallon, I don't feel like I have a right to complain about $4 here. I also drive a very thirsty car, and while I wish it cost less to run, it was our choice to buy this vehicle, and now we live with it. Besides, nobody, not even dealers, want to buy SUVs around here, so we're stuck with it, what's the point in complaining?
With that, I've got to run, load my kids up into my gas guzzler and head right down for this swim class - I have the oddest feeling that we're going to be late, again!
Looking forward to catching up some more, soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Annie
