Almost Perfect

There are some moments as a parent that I couldn't possibly make up, and If I'm honest, I wouldn't actually want to. Yesterday held one such moment.

We had just enjoyed a spontaneous early evening swim in the ocean, which was just as wonderful as it sounds-that precious combination of a balmy evening and a beautiful Donegal beach just couldn't be wasted so off we went- Himself, myself and four of the kids, a blanket, a towel and two spades between us.

And having read this and having done this , I was determined not to let my jelly belly and wobbly thighs get in the way of a frolic in the sea with the children. So I braced myself and stripped off and after the first few excruciating moments it was fine, and we played and splashed and swam and dunked.
Then after a wee while, it was time to go - toddlers still get tired and boys still start bickering, even on the most gorgeous of evenings, and very quickly the perfect moment had passed and it all became a 'Right! Let's get this feckin' show on the road, ASAP'.

 I was just drying off a whinging Luke when Rory suddenly stopped mindlessly kicking sand over the blanket, stared transfixed at Luke's tummy, and declared 'Woah! what's that horrible stuff coming out of his belly button?'

 I looked down swiftly, at a belly button that certainly appeared to be oozing something green. Dear God, had he contracted some kind of gross belly button infection that I'd somehow missed? Should we bring him to hospital right now? Would he need an antibiotic?

 Meanwhile,  Rory was now kneeling down and examining Luke's belly button with fascinated interest, before nodding slowly and delivering his verdict,
 'It's okay, don't worry, it's just snot! He's got bogers in his belly button! Then he added delightedly  'Ugh yuck, that's disgusting!'

As I calmly wiped the offending belly button with our communal towel, I simply felt relief that no
trip to the after hours trip doctor was required, while Luke beamed proudly as the tale of the gross belly button was relived with relish all the way back to the Caravilla.

A Little Piece of Monday

I'm sitting here in the Caravilla, on a very 'Irish' August morning (blustery and rainy with brief moments of sunshine), and amazingly I'm basking in 5 minutes of blissful silence. Loverboy is working away down the hall....which sounds deceptively spacious, especially when, in fact, it's the smallest room in the world and only five short steps away behind a paper thin door.

Meanwhile, the washing machine in the shed outside, is whipping its way up to a final frenzied spin, and soon I'm going to have to make the decision, as to whether it's worth hanging yet another load of washing out between showers. I strongly suspect that several of our Caravilla neighbours believe that I spend my entire life out at our blue whirly line...but they'd be wrong - it's a mere 90%.
 And yes, getting a washing machine up here has been wonderful -strictly from a laundry point of view, you understand, I'm not THAT sad....or perhaps I am, because between you and me, and given the ongoing drying issues, I definitely see a new (to me) tumbledryer on the horizon for next year. Which would be tote amaze and make my life complete obvs.

On the pet front, Arthur our dog, (new name, NOT Coburn....stay awake at the back), has unfortunately had the scoots for the last day or so. (TMI?) Blessedly though, that's NOT my territory....except for the bed washing part, and in truth,  it MAY possibly have been  caused by the pig's trotter I treated him to the other day (totally disgusting and who knew you could even buy pigs trotters, or that they had nails!?) but he loved it....at the time anyway.

The older kids have gone on a bike ride, while the younger ones are playing  in the park a short distance from our front window. Luke has an old 'Football Special' bottle (a Donegal delicacy) and I'm  NOT going to ponder too deeply where he got it from, because he's been happily mixing sand and water in it for over an hour.  Buckets and spades are soooo last year, don't ya know.

Speaking of fashion forward, if you look at any group of kids here, you'll notice that no matter what age they are, almost all of them are sporting a type of hoody, which are the very latest in caravan chic! They come in a whole range of bright colours and have a shark shaped logo on the front, and are VERY much coveted. Sold by a surf shop in the village called Jaws- who incidentally MUST be just delighted with themselves-  they've  become de rigeur for the kidlets here, the ability to surf being entirely optional. Genius.

Now I must be off- my peaceful five minutes have long since timed out, and I predict  a stampede of  baying, hungry, hoodie- clad small people are about to descend and ruin my happiness. Or at the very least demand their lunch. Happy Monday y'all xx

Radio Gaga

When we're up here we listen to Highland Radio in the car. The younger kids don't mind but the older ones roll their eyes .....and long for Cool FM. You see, It's a small, local station -on our way to Letterkenny yesterday for instance, we learned which priests were moving where, whose funerals were coming up (sooner rather than later), that a wallet had been found on Downings beach, and the numbers for the bingo for the €200 euro jackpot. We heard about three birthdays, a Christening ,two silver wedding anniversaries and an appeal for a lost dog in Gweedore.

From the roadshow outside 'Happy Days' supermarket, the chirpy DJ chatted to Irene from Creeslough and Betty from Florida. He put on his best American accent and told Betty that she really didn't need to buy that sugar -she was quite sweet enough, and she giggled girlishly at his Irish charm.

From there, he linked seamlessly into the underrated  'Shoo in the Donkey' song with the words 'It's five to three and time for tea, but where's the toilet cos I need to pee!?', by which stage, understandably enough,  the eye rolling in the back had reached its peak.

After the weather-Sure, it's gorgeous here, Betty must think she's back home in Florida!- there was a chatty lead into ABBA's 'Does your Mother know?'....except that it wasn't. He must have pushed the wrong DJ button because on came Roger Millar's ' King of the road', which was an unexpected surprise, so I just sang along  to that one instead.

Nope, cool it definitely ain't, but it's warm, it makes me laugh and I feel like I'm a local. Between you and me, I'm even considering putting in a song request for the Sunday morning show, especially for l'il ol' me from my scoffing offspring.....I'm thinking a couple of adoring sentences about their dearest mother, followed by all their names, plenty of Xxxx and Ooooo and a suitable song.....and yes I do have one in mind, as it happens. Let me know what you think.....and happy weekend lovelies!

A Quick Flash

This morning I did a 3 mile walk over the gorgeous, and appropriately named, Cardiac Hill, and this afternoon I hope to make great progress on my new jigsaw.  Yes indeed, it's summer time and the livin' is easy, and even though I still have meals to cook and clothes to fold,  life is definitely more chilled here in the Caravilla.

For some it happens as soon as they get up here, for others, like me, it takes a few days to wind down, set aside my lists and go with the flow, but once I do, there's really nowhere quite like it.
Sometimes you even end up doing things that you wouldn't normally dream of.... like I did last summer....I'm still blushing now just thinking about it, and yet, I still remember how deliciously free it felt.  One of these days I might even go for a re run...but in the meantime, here's a favourite memory from last August.

Jumping Right In!

You will NEVER guess what I did yesterday...especially if you know me. It was so out of character, so spontaneous, so...so utterly liberating. We'd gone for a walk- Loverboy , myself and the wee man in the pram, down onto the beach. It was about 6 o'clock and the most gorgeous evening. (We're able to do this now you see- just take the baby and leave the other four for an hour or so, here and there- it's a whole new dawn!)
Anyway, off we went along the gorgeous, almost empty, (that's important!), strand. The water was so clear and warm as I paddled my way through it. We walked right to the rocks at the end, and there wasn't a sinner about, just us.
I found myself looking longingly at the water. I haven't been swimming in the sea for YEARS- believe it or not, it was actually sometime in the last millennium. I used to love it as a kid though, even on those pre wetsuit days when the water was so cold, my legs turned blue, and my teeth chattered, as all frozen fingers and thumbs, I clumsily got dressed under a towel, in the back of our old Volvo.
But it wasn't like that yesterday-No Siree! It was almost Mediterranean and it bewitched me, turned my head, made me want nothing more at that moment, than to swim in the clear water, and feel weightless and carefree and young again.
The thing is, it was only last week that I'd even brought my swimsuit to the Caravilla. I hadn't even considered it, until one of the kids asked me if I'd ever been into the water. Sad really, when you think of it. But right then, it was back in the drawer with the towels, and the dinner needed made for everyone, and anyway,  I'd washed and dried my hair that morning. That settled it then. Another time though. Definitely.
 Then Loverboy said to me softly, 'Why don't you go in? There's nobody here. Everything else can wait.' And I looked at him then and shook my head, all the excuses on my lips. But I think he'd already seen the wistfulness and the longing on my face because he pushed me again,  'Go on, be a devil! Sure, why wouldn't you?'
And then from somewhere, underneath the layers of responsibility and self consciousness and  general 'being an adult' bullshit, a little voice said 'Feck it'. And before I could change my mind, I just stripped down to my bra and knickers and waded out into the sparkling, warm water.
 Part of me was almost crippled with embarrassment. Even though there was nobody around except Loverboy and the wee man,  I was STILL only wearing an old grey bra and granny knickers, complete with wobbly bits and stretch marks and freckles and blue/white skin. And did I  mention it was broad daylight? (In retrospect, a moonlight swim would have been SO much more forgiving.)
 But once I'd started, I knew that there was no going back, and a little, cheeky, playful part of me was filled with... excitement? It felt like I was tapping into somewhere deep inside myself, that I'd assumed had long  disappeared.
And it WAS gorgeous, and deliciously and fabulously  liberating. I swam and I floated, on my back, then on my front-a few times I even caught myself laughing out loud. I felt like a kid again. It was the most normal, ordinary thing and yet I hadn't allowed myself this simple pleasure for so many years. I'd let my own fears talk me out of it and lost something precious in the process.  And all the while Loverboy and Luke waved and smiled and clapped from the sand.
I'll be honest though, when it was to time to go, I had a bit of a moment when I pictured myself emerging from the water, and suddenly the unwelcome perfection of Halle Berry in her orange bikini popped into my mind...But I pushed it straight out again, not letting myself tarnish it, because this little episode had been MAJOR for me. A small step for most people maybe,  but a great bloody long jump for Yours Truly.
Those in the know, say that you should do something that scares you a little every single day, and yesterday I did something that scared the shit out of me...but it was SO worth it. And who knows, next time I may even wear my swimsuit...

And the Livin' is Easy

This time last year the rain was torrential. This time last year the wind was gale force. I remember this very well because we had just spent a small fortune acquiring a Caravilla in Donegal - as our sole holiday destination until at least 2025.

I remember one particular moment as I gazed out at two year old Luke on the deck, waterproofed from head to toe , rain running in rivulets off the unused barbecue behind him and I'll admit that i felt a certain, let's call it, disquiet. Between you and me though, right then a thought bubble over my head would have clearly read ' WTF have we done?'

But sure, in the end it was grand, weather wise the summer predictably leveled out  into your typical Irish mixed bag of a wee bit of everything.....sometimes we got lucky and sometimes we didn't, but we all fell in love with Donegal regardless.

And now a year on? Well would you believe that today it's 27 degrees and there's not a waterproof in sight? The skies are blue, the kids are in in swimsuits and we're nearly out of factor 50!
This morning I hosted a (paddling) pool party on our deck, while us mamas sat and drank coffee and ate peaches. Later on I'll load the pram to capacity with hats and buckets, spades and rugs, drinks and sunscreen, and we'll weave our way dangerously to the beautiful beach just down the path. We'll get freckles and a 99 and wander back when the notion takes us...I actually think I feel a song coming on.

http://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=related&v=JBKAbg1NpTk

I hope that sun shines today on you too. Catch ya in the long grass, Emxxxx

This and That.

Here are the topics that given time I could totally write a blog about today-

1.Straight in at number one is 'New puppy - the highs and the lows!' For example, I know that you'll be interested to hear that we've decided on crate training and my extensive investigations into pet insurance-until last week, I knew less than nothing about both!

We also had our first trip to the vet's for his injections - God bless my cousin John in Cedar Grove Vets who's keeping me right and not taking advantage of my puppy anxiety.... even though he's fully aware that I'd sign up for/buy just about everything dog related right now, to Loverboy's obvious relief, he calmly talked me out of most of it.

The thing is, I do understand that I'm being an absolute melter about it all... but I can't actually help myself. I knew things were bad last weekend, when two well meaning friends pulled me aside to remind me that it was Saturday night ,we were out on the razz, and therefore I was to immediately cease and desist talking about pet insurance because I was in danger (too late?) of becoming a complete bore.... Hey, it stung a little ...but the wine eased the pain, and anyway I could totally see where they were coming from. Intervention anyone?

2. The seasonal issue of teachers' presents- pitching them just right to avoid the 'tightarse mammy' tag, while not appearing TOO blatant at overcompensating for a certain son's untidiness/ daydreaming/ tardiness issues.

3. Our ongoing home improvements... which should be marginally more interesting/less dull than it sounds. A new carpet went down today, five pairs of curtains are waiting to be hung and the glass knobs WILL be attached to my up cycled, shabby chic coffee table by tonight...I thought I even might post a few compliment fishing pictures before the weekend?

4. Packing for the Caravilla- for seven plus dog. What a joy! There's already an overflowing Ikea bag stashed with, among other things, custard creams, toilet rolls, a dog lead, a scuba mask, DVDs, factor 50 sun cream and a stack of raincoats. (It's Donegal after all). But the real question on everyone's lips is- will our minivan and trailer cut it this time, given all of the added paraphernalia our 4 legged friend brings?
Computer says no, so it's looking very much like we'll be travelling in convoy ('Breaker one-nine, breaker one-nine. This here's the RubberDuck,  10-4'.)
And actually, now I think about it, I believe I'll do the decent thing and drive the other car... just so that Loverboy can enjoy a good stretch of quality time with Duffy's circus in the back.

It's a real bummer that I don't have time to write any of those posts but I've a fireplace to wax before the school run, so instead  I'll leave you with the view at my feet right now, which is surely proof that, despite my pet induced panics, there are little moments of bonding just like this one- me, Coburn and Jude's old school shoe.
Catch ya later, Emx

Monday Club ....in a midweek sort of way!

I'm late for the Monday club, as it's actually now Wednesday, but never mind, I'll be fashionably late and hope they won't notice. What's the craic since I last tuned in?

Wellllll, we had our weekend in Donegal, which was unfortunately a wee bit of a washout. Which isn't so  terribly unusual for Donegal, but irritating because, by all accounts, the rest of the North of Ireland had a perfectly bright crisp Autumn weekend.  Couldn't have been nicer apparently, or so the texts informed me as we looked out at the driving rain and bickered.

I'm telling you, I don't know how the travelling community do it with their big families, and in a touring caravan too! At the very least, they must be world champions at Trivial Pursuit, but I don't mind telling you, my head would be turned. I'd be putting down a deposit on a nice chalet bungalow before you could say 'chemical toilet'.

For us part time caravilla dwellers though, the moral of the story is quite obvious, (so obvious, in fact, that I don't know why we didn't think of it before)-we must remember to check the weather forecast before we go. Genius.  Our next visit in a few weeks is the last of this season-we'll be closing her up for the Winter, (thanks so much for all the tips by the way), and keeping our fingers and toes crossed that the mildew gremlins will stay away.

What else is going on? Well, look away now if you're of a delicate disposition, but I've got a most  impressive abscess in my mouth. It looks like a nasty ulcer but it's more sinister than that, because it's hiding a load of infection in my gum, and jeopardising a few lower teeth in the process. Very luckily for me, one of my BFF's is an oral surgeon, and so yesterday I had an appointment with a colleague of her's for a consultation.

Now I don't know about you, but if at all possible, I try to ensure that any male doctors or dentists I see are....how shall I put this?...fairly unattractive. Downright ugly is even better. You can call me vain or contrary, and yes, I know they're professionals and see these things all the time and are well used to it, blah blah blah, but  if it makes you feel any better at all,  I don't actually SHARE my quirky preference with them.
So, when Dishy Dentist walked in, all dark haired and beardy, as if made to order, my heart sank just a little bit. I was flustered anyway, given the monstrosity on my gum, and what with being in a surgery with needles and stainless steel, so this development didn't help.

On climbing into the chair, I first managed to whack my elbow so hard and noisily off his instrument tray, he seemed quite concerned that I may have injured myself. But it was later, when he had the delightful task of lancing and squeezing the aforementioned enormous gum zit, and then releasing all the horrible yellow pus and then hoovering it up, that I felt the last of my dignity ebb away. I took small comfort in the fact that, unlike a previous dentist, he didn't then sniff the pus appreciatively, expertly pinpointing its exact vintage... but still, it was a personal low point.

And it looks like I've lots more similar dental fun, (that's an oxymoron surely) to look forward to. Surgery and implants have been mentioned ( in the teeth sense, obviously!), but I'm not going there in my head just yet-I'm still working through yesterday's trauma, if you must know.
 The only little silver lining of it all, was that I DIDN'T have to start an antibiotic which would've meant that I couldn't have had a few drinks on Saturday night with friends, so it definitely could've been worse.

(To be honest, I always assumed that the old 'antibiotic' excuse on nights out was just the universally recognized code for 'I'm pregnant but it's too early on to tell you.. stand by for an announcement' scenario.  I've certainly used it a few times myself over the years, so I'm very relieved that I now don't  have to spend Saturday night completely sober AND convincing my tipsy chums that, no, number 6 isn't on the way!)

Other breaking news? I got a new phone cover for my iPhone. Loverboy rolled his eyes to the heavens when he saw it, but I just love it...I  know, I know it's  the opposite of classy and probably entirely too young for me, but I can't help myself. Why, oh why, am I ever drawn to such tack? I'm exactly like a magpie... Or a five year old....if it's animal print, sparkly or even better has my name on it, then I'm sooooo there.

It's an affiction, and sadly worsening over time. In fact,  my (incredibly unattractive) doctor recently informed me that its now so severe, that  inevitably by the time I hit eighty, I'll be resplendant in leopard print lounge wear, clutching a sparkly wand and wearing a tiara. Bring it on, I told him, bring it on!
Till next time, loveliesxxxx

I've joined up with the fab Sarah Miles at Hello Wall for the Monday Club-if you fancy it, you can take a peek at the others over there too!

The Caravilla- a final fling!

We're Caravilla bound this weekend, the first time in a while. We didn't get up at all in September- there was simply no spare time- so we're all really looking forward to it...even though I'm pretty sure that the October experience up there, will be a little different to the July/August one.
 The site'll be quieter for a start, it'll be dark by 7pm and I very much that doubt we'll see much of the ice cream van! I won't be packing any shorts and t shirts either- this time it'll be more fleeces and wellies, and the central heating & double glazing should definitely come into its own. (Thank God I put my foot down about that last May!)

I think the part that I'm looking forward to the most though, is wrapping up warmly and walking the beach. It clears my head and grounds me and I really need that right now.
You know how there's stages in your life, when change is in the air and decisions need to be made, and everything's a bit unsettling and scary...but exciting too? Well, we're sort of in the middle of a phase just like that, and I won't say any more right now because it's all swirling about in my head, and it'll probably be all change again tomorrow anyway...but bear with me, I will.
So I'm hoping that this weekend the beach walks will work their magic, and we'll begin to see our road ahead a little clearer.

Now there I go again-as usual I've veered completely off base, because what I actually planned to do, was to seek a little practical advice from any of you seasoned Caravilla owners out there. 
We've a final visit planned towards the end of the month, and then we'll have to close it up properly for the Winter. The pipes are being drained down by the site, but what of inside the van? What do I need to do? What can I leave up there and what should I take home? I've heard rumours of bowls of salt in every room. Is this true? Any advice or tips would be mucho appreciated. Till next time, my loveliesxxxx

Mister and Missus

And just like that it was all over. The months of anticipation, the excitement, the planning and organizing, all for a single day which was gone in the blink of an eye. Leaving  hangovers and dry cleaning bills and tired whiny children in its wake. Bah humbug!
At 645am on Sunday morning, having crawled into bed at 330am, I came round to an excessively chirpy Cbeebies and the unmistakeable stench of a filled nappy, and for a moment I may even have been guilty of taking that view. But only very briefly!

Mr and Mrs Milverton

Me and my Anna and our Mary.

Because looking back, Clare's wedding was quite simply the loveliest of days, in the most gorgeous of places, with the best of people. An everyday miracle I suppose- from opposite parts of the world, Tim and Clare had somehow found each other and suddenly, that was that. She tells me that she just knew, and that she also knew that he just knew,  so for both of them marriage was simply the next step.  (The fact that he then went on to propose to her on New Years Eve, in his hometown of Sydney, with a firework display and Sydney Opera house in the background, is scarcely worth mentioning...but I just can't help it....sure I was swooning  myself when she skyped me later with the deets!)

I want one!

And so we  came - from as far as away as Sydney, London, New York, Melbourne, Boston, and Glenavy  just to witness my little sister marry her Prince Charming. Tim's dad happens to own a beautiful 1914 Rolls Royce Ghost car, which he looks after like a baby and houses lovingly in England (as you do!) and he drove it all the way over to be their wedding car. He drove Clare (and my mum and dad) to the church, and then her new husband drove her back again afterwards. It was..... just perfect.

Our special day....

And yes, the day definitely flew by faster than we all would have liked, but then again that wasn't really the point. Because at 3am the next morning, it wasn't really the end...for the two people who actually mattered, it was only the beginning. They weren't bride and groom anymore, they were Newly Weds. And on their wedding day, their excitement and love for each other was a joy and a pleasure to behold. What would life hold for them? What would the future bring?
And for all of us Oldly Weds out there, I think it reminded us of our own wedding days- of our own  hopes and dreams all those years ago as we set sail together on OUR journeys. And all that has happened in the years in between and all that is still to come...
My other sister Mary and I sang at the wedding Mass, and one of the pieces we sang was 'The Irish Blessing' which says better than I ever could, what I want to say right now.
To Clare and Tim-May the road rise to meet you, May the wind be ever at your back, May the sun shine warm upon your face, may the rain fall soft upon your fields. And until we meet again, may God hold you in the hollow of his hand.
EmmaXxxxx

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig!

All roads lead to...

So we're home now from the Caravilla, having just done a three weeker up there, and a very fine time we had too! After a washout week weather wise over the 12th, THIS time I went prepared- as in, I  ditched the heels and pashminas for welly bobs and a raincoat! (Before you ask, OBVIOUSLY, I still brought a makeup and jewellry selection-that would be a step too far.)
As it turned out though, this time we were SO lucky with the weather, that the wellybobs didn't even get a wee turn! The kids lived in shorts and t shirts, the sun (mostly) shone, and life was good. If I've learned one thing about Donegal summers, it's that just because it's pouring in the morning, doesn't mean you won't be sunning yourself and skinny dipping that afternoon... and vice versa. Once I realised that, I actually began to like it, because it forced me not to plan too far ahead. I tried to just let the good times roll with the weather, because Irish chances were, we'd probably be listening to the rain beat off the roof later on!

Our 'The Hills are Alive' moment

But anyway, now we're home, and the house seems MASSIVE and our bed super duper luxurious! (Now, dont get me wrong, the bed in the caravilla is cosy and snug..... but more than a tad vertically challenged, and a teensy bit too compact and bijoux pour moi on a long term basis.)
And don't even get me started on the emotional reunion with my bath! Having been bathless for three weeks, it was SUCH a treat to fill it with Jo Malone bubbles and sink into it, Grazia in hand. Showers have their place-they're functional and fast- the hygiene equivalent of a rocky bar, or a penguin, or possibly even a club milk, but a bath...well, it's a really good caramel square, or a slice of home made coffee cake. There's simply no comparison. One scratches an itch, the other is an itch all of its own!

My usual morning walk

And yet....after a day or so, the novelty of baths and beds and space has begun to wear off, and I find myself missing the beautiful simplicity of life in the Caravilla. The way that after the few days it takes me to wind down, real life with its many pressures, appointments, to do lists  and complications begins to seem very far away.
And the simple things like a walk on the beach, or the sun on your face, or the sound of the waves, can bring a contentment you only get to appreciate away from all the hustle and bustle.
It's probably something to do with the fact that the summer is drawing to a close, and although we'll be up again for a few weekends, our long stretch there is over until next year, and that makes me a little sad. The days are shortening again, a new term is looming and the mundanities of school shoes, hair cuts and potty training are on my immediate horizon.
Soon the long, sunny summer days will be only a memory...(And a hazy one at that, because obviously I'm already forgetting the quare bit of torrential rain and the numerous times we shook our heads muttering 'It's desperate- you'd think it was November! Sure you wouldn't live here unless you had to!')
But where there's a yin, there's a yang, and a whole lot of good stuff is coming up for us too. My little sister is getting married in a few weeks, and my brother and his lovely family are coming home from California for the celebrations. My other sister's new baby is due at the very same time, (although fingers crossed, Junior won't make an appearance till after the ceremony, because like me, she's signed up to be both bridesmaid and wedding singer!) And then, after all that excitement and family time, at the end of September, I'm off to the MAD awards in London ... and 3 whole nights away with Loverboy! As I said,  plenty to look forward to.
So here's to the end of one season and the beginning of another....but, hold on, not quite yet, it's still August after all.

Gone Fishin'

On holiday, one of the most requested activities by the oldest four children  is to go crabbing. Every year, the best locations are sourced, crabbing lines are patiently untangled, and a suitable vessel for the unfortunate crabs procured.

This was the first time at Marble Hill, (although I strongly suspect it won't be the last), and it was a bumper haul. Jude brought home this large, bad tempered crustacean, while Cormac proudly managed to catch a 5 euro note which floated past his line! 99s all round then....

Caravilla continued ....

Seasoned caravilla-ers (too much!?) had warned me that the first season is one of stocking up and endless lists, and my goodness, they were right!  Car load after trailer load, after car load has disappeared into our double glazed, centrally heated tardis and I'm STILL scribbling lists.
 Unlike me, Loverboy is relentlessly optimistic- a few days before we go up, he confidently assures me,
  'Sure packing'll be wee buns this time- we hardly need anything!'

Behind the wall...

And lo and behold, it's with surprise every time, that he assesses the ever growing stockpile in the hall, and tentatively floats the possibility  of taking the trailer. (Ya think?) Then, (would you credit it!) doesn't it transpire that we actually need his dad's bigger trailer and off we go again, hours behind schedule, with more than a passing resemblance to the Hillbillies.
This one is our longest trip so far - 2 whole weeks. On board, as well as industrial quantities of Weetabix and toilet rolls, we had garden furniture, for the new deck on the caravilla.
 (Side note-it's just been built and it's fabulous! I should probably mention, that I'm a HUGE fan of dining al fresco, the kids understandably, not so much.
 'Away on, it's hardly raining at all- put up your hood and eat your dinner!')
But where was I ? Ah yes, the journey up with the garden furniture. You can imagine that with seven people,  a glass table, six chairs, and an umbrella as well as all the other 'stuff', we were at maximum capacity. Warnings were immediately issued, not to spontaneously open doors in case of random breakages and right up the middle of the car, a bit like the Berlin Wall, was the new table. Because of this, chit chat was somewhat limited up front , and there were lots of shouted conversations. Sweets and insults  were passed over the top of the wall, and to glimpse Loverboy at all, I had to squeeze my head round the front of the table, right beside the windscreen. This startled him every time, (which I childishly found amusing), but for safety's sake, kept to a minimum.
To be honest though, the novelty soon wore off...for all of us. The DVD player couldn't be put on  because the 'wall' blocked the screen and between this and the shouting, the  journey seemed longer. Oh, and then the rain started. Thankfully,  I had done a brief check on the contents of the trailer before we left and immediately clocked the  uncovered sheets and towels stowed on top. 'On no!' says I,  'that bag's not staying there- it's about to pour!'
 With stubborn optimism, despite ominous dark clouds AND the weather forecast, Yer man answered, ' Sure the sun's splitting the stones! It's gorgeous ....and anyway there's no room for it in the car'. Which was true, a rejig would have been necessary, but there was simply no way I was going up there to re-dry bed linen, just for the craic of it.
Placatingly, he said, 'Look, IF it starts to rain, I'll pull in, and we'll move it then.'
 I agreed grudgingly, but before we even got to the top of our lane, it had started to spit. A mile up the road and I was glaring meaningfully around the table at him, while the torrential rain beat aginst the windscreen behind me.

The Hillbillies on tour

  That was our first stop. The second, was a scheduled electric blanket buying trip to Argos in Strabane- it was on my caravilla list as an absolute necessity - and finally with it stowed safely on my knee, ( there was literally nowhere else ) we headed for Donegal.
Now we're finally here and unpacked and on our holliers, and between walks on the beach, films and popcorn, crab fishing, buckets and spades, Trivial Pursuit, 99's, fish and chips, coffee, wine, Lego, raincoats, books and picnics, it has all the makings of a good old fashioned Irish summer holiday. (With the bonus extras of Wifi, an electric blanket and Christian Grey, of course!). I'll let you know how it goes....

The Caravilla!

The Maiden Voyage

Okay, so I know you're all dying to know how we got on at the caravilla at the weekend.(Just humour me...it's all in the buildup). Well, lets just say that it had it's highs and it's lows. On Friday evening, as we crawled over the Glenshane pass in the pissing rain, complete with an overstuffed minivan and trailer and looking for all the world like the Hillbillies, I must admit I felt a slight frisson of anxiety. As in 'Oh my sweet God what the hell have we done is it too late to get out of it now?' variety. (I know- I can be quite the drama queen when I want to be.)
And it was most unfortunate that those feelings didn't exactly dissipate- we arrived and spent the next 5 hours unloading the car, unpacking plates, cleaning bathrooms and setting up beds, all in the worst possible wind and rain. Rather shamefully, this didn't stop me sending the boys out to play, because although we were one down with Anna in England, six people and a thousand boxes still makes for one very crowded caravilla. When they were offered the glittering options of 'Stay here and clean the toilet, or go out and play in the rain' thankfully, although not unexpectedly, they cleared the joint in 10 seconds flat.
 So eventually, by midnight the car and trailer were emptied, the kids were finally settled, and we were climbing into our teeny tiny bed. Okay, I may be exaggerating a little bit, and I'm fully aware that I sound like a complete princess, but we've a six foot bed at home, so a small double DID feel very compact and bijou...but cosy too... in a studenty sort of way!
 I also hadn't fully considered the paper thin walls- I mean I KNOW it's a caravilla, but literally we could hear EVERYTHING, which logically means that THEY could hear everything, which TOTALLY puts a dampener on getting up to ANYTHING. Catch my drift?  (On this theme, ANY feedback/advice/tactics from any of you seasoned carravillagers out there is most welcome. (Speak up, you're among friends! )
Moving swiftly on, I awoke the next dark morning at 6am, to Luke battering about, less than a foot away in the next 'room' and the rain battering off the roof above me. Unsurprisingly, and fueled by exhaustion, my mild anxiety had now evolved into a full blown inner panic attack, which Loverboy clocked immediately, and I think possibly even identified with. He got up, brought me in my book, sorted the kids with cereal, and put on the coffee, thus expertly heading off a meltdown at the pass.

Looking for crabs.

Ah yes, my book, which just so happened to be the well known, much discussed "Fifty Shades of Grey'. In fact, only two nights before, I'd been out for a meal with the Glenavy girlies, and everyone of them had either read it, or was currently devouring it. The giggly, wine enhanced discussion that followed is not for your gentle ears, suffice to say, that I went straight home and immediately packed the book for our maiden caravilla voyage. And thank goodness I did, because as it turned out Christian Grey proved to be a MOST diverting weekend companion...At one point I was so engrossed that I was utterly oblivious to Luke happily smearing my new face cream all over the walls beside me. In fact, it was only when a 6 year old Rory climbed into bed with me, and from over my shoulder began to identify and read aloud high frequency words from my page, that I forced myself to put it down....for a good hour anyway.

Wine time...and a big shell.

 The torrential rain continued all morning, and without the diversion of TV or computer games it WAS testing in such a confined space, but with the help of magnetix, monopoly and a box of magic tricks (thank you Sheileen!) we made it through. Later, while walking on the beautiful beach, the sun suddenly came out and it was like God smiling on us. And as we watched our happy boys clambering on the rocks and looking for crabs, I felt very lucky, and KNEW that we'd done the right thing. Then we all turned and walked back to the caravilla for pizza.

Friday Quick Takes

Seems like only yesterday...

• Today is Jude's last day at primary school EVER and to celebrate there's a prayer service and a concert. Having been through this last year with Anna, this time I'm going prepared. That means waterproof mascara and plenty of tissues, because it's a very emotional 'one door closing my baby's growing up so quickly and I'm crying again' sort of morning. Yes, I know it's the start of a whole new exciting stage for him, and one that I know that he's ready for.....but I remember his very first day at school, and it REALLY doesn't seem that long ago. Now, he's leaving the security of his wonderful, nurturing primary school here in the country, and joining his sister at a big grammar school in the city. It's a huge milestone and of course, he doesn't even realize it and I just really, really hope that he'll be okay....But thankfully, first there's the summer holidays to enjoy!

•  Speaking of which, we're going to take the children up to see the new caravilla this weekend for the first time. No doubt, there'll be great excitement and they'll stampede through it, slamming doors, claiming beds and finding spaces. I so hope we'll be happy there. I so hope it's the right move for us. And I so, so hope it doesn't rain ALL the time. 

• Speaking of which, (how great am I getting at these links!?), I went to Ikea during the week to stock up on 'stuff' for the aforementioned caravilla. The problem is, no matter how well prepared I think I am with my lists and measurements, when I get there, I ALWAYS get flustered, bedazzled and carried away with the bright colours, the funky prints, and the wonderfully innovative storage solutions. But mostly, I think its just the sheer, fabulous Swedishness of it all. So just like every other time, I departed with a minivan filled to the brim with stuff I didn't know we needed, and £300+ poorer.                                                                                                                     
• I'll leave you now with this little picture of a cheeky Luke, who was all too quiet yesterday morning, and when I went to find him, there he was happily ripping my cotton wool pads into tiny shreds all over the floor. As you do...when you're two!                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

We Did It!!

Soooooo, after our fruitless reconnaissance visit to Donegal last Tuesday with the boys, a follow up was hastily organized for Friday, this time just the two of us. Weather wise, it could not have been worse-the rain was coming down in sheets, there were flash flood warnings everywhere and my hair was completely flat. I did wonder if we were mad, but I told myself that if we STILL love Donegal under these conditions, then we're doing the right thing. The plan was we'd lift the three older boys after Sports Day, drop them & the bambino to my mum's and get on the road as early as possible. Easy Peasy. Only of course it wasn't.
 First of all, unsurprisingly, Sports Day was cancelled because of the rain, so we set off to drive the 20 miles to my mum's later than we'd hope. Halfway there, and it hit me that crucially I'd forgotten to pack Luke's blankie. The very same blankie that Loverboy once drove 50 miles at midnight to retrieve on another occasion. So, knowing instantly what had to be done, without a word he turned the car back in the direction of home.
Thirty minutes later, with Blankie safely on board, we were back on the road, when I suddenly became aware of Rory jigging frantically up & down in the backseat. This could mean only one thing- we had a high alert Code Red Toilet Emergency on our hands and I knew it was bad when he didn't even try to deny it.
 Now, normally this isn't a big deal- with four boys, we've made these unscheduled bio breaks numerous times, fertilising many a hedge in the process, but with rain bouncing off the road and windscreen wipers at full tilt, it was a most uninviting prospect for all concerned.
 'He can't get out in that, he'll be drenched through...and I'll be drenched too!'
'If he stays in here, he'll be drenched anyway, and so will the seats and there's no way on earth I'm driving to Donegal in a car stinking of pee!'
 Nodding in agreement, we were just about to opt for the lesser of two evils, when Rory, understandably put off with the idea of relieving himself in torrential rain, insisted he could hold it. The twisted expression and ongoing rocking may have indicated otherwise, but I told Loverboy to put the boot down and we immediately initiated a distraction campaign of relentless joke telling and songs, which worked for a good 10 miles at least. But a mile or so from my mum's, it became abundantly clear that Rory and his bladder had reached tipping point, and the only solution now was an emergency stop and immediate evacuation. The problem was we were outside a service station, in a built up area, without a hedge in sight.
No time to discuss- outta the car, down the alleyway, baby wipes in hand, and the job was done as I called aiming instructions from the sidelines-
'Down the drain, Rory, down the drain, son. No, mind the shoes! MIND THE SHOES!'
 Eventually though, we made it to my mum's, swiftly deposited the children, and headed for Donegal at last in a pee free car.....it's the little things. Just a few hours later, we'd done the deal and we're now the proud new owners of a mobile home from home with central heating, double glazing and en suite- honestly, if Carlsberg did mobile homes, my lovelies! We spent that night in a cosy little hotel, drinking wine, making plans and dreamin' dreams, and thankfully when we stood on the beach the next day in the rain, we DID still love it.....Who knows, at this rate, I may even get a fleece!

Quick Takes

• Anna's exams finish today. At last. This year, for first time, she's been grappling with revision timetables and end of year tests. We've been trying to walk the line of taking them seriously...but not too seriously. She is only first year after all. Of course, it's been beautiful exam weather for much of it, but she finishes today in the pouring rain. Typical!

• Jude has observed her workload over the last months, with a mild but detached interest at what lies ahead for him next year. But Mummy, sure that's AGES away yet. God help us all.  

•  Spotted this on Rory's bag yesterday and had to show you. It's the little proof picture from Cormac's Communion photos. He rescued it from the recycling bin and with cardboard, string and staples made this for his schoolbag. Sure you couldn't help but love him!

• We got a new sandpit this week, and as sandpits go, it kicks ass. The wooden cover folds back to make little seats on each side. Here's a snap taken earlier in the week, before all this torrential  rain. An entire day spent digging, designing, building, rebuilding, moat making, eating... and did I mention they were out there ALL DAY. So it would be fair to say, that we're ALL diggin' the new sandpit. (Pun totally intended!) 

                                                               

• I'm off now because Loverboy and myself are away on Caravan hunt 2.0 today-THIS time with slightly revised numbers and expectations. (Him, not me, obv.). My theory, and bear with me 'cos it's a sound one, is that unless it's comfortable, (by my standards), and warm (double glazing and central heating a MUST), I'm not gonna want to go up there. FFS, that's the Atlantic ocean just over that sand dune, and let's be honest here, NOBODY goes to Donegal for the weather!  (Which isn't to say I don't love it, cos I do, but Babes, a fleece just ain't gonna cut it.) So wish me luck, and hopefully next time I'll have all kinds of exciting caravan news to tell you!  (Did I say caravan? You KNOW I meant mobile home! ) Happy Friday my lovelies!!

Summer Dreamin'

Come to Mama.....

I don't know about you but once Christmas is over and we're plunged headlong into a cold, dark, overdrawn January, I start to dream of summer. I suppose that I should come clean and openly admit that surfing holiday porn,( along with shoe porn), is one of my all time favourite pastimes. It calms and clears my mind, just the way meditation or yoga might do for you. Every week the top holiday deals land in my inbox, and with one short click I'm chilling out in a blue skied fantasy, somewhere fabulous, cocktail in hand.

 But here's the kicker-having five kids not only severely cramps your holiday style, it kills it stone dead. Yes, like oil and water, an insatiable appetite for travel and a much larger than average family size, do not mix. It's something you don't think about when you stare down at those blue lines for the third, fourth or fifth time. Oops! Bang goes our relationship with Thomas Cook for the next twenty years! For 'family' holidays don't cater for your average woman living in a shoe- they cater for the 'happy meal' family of two adults and two children and not the 'Extra Value meal' family of two adults and five children. All those free child places in sunny climes? Not for us, unless we deposit three of them at a Travel Lodge en route! (See you when we see you. Let's skype later! Byeeee!)

Most hotels are just as bad. I'm currently trying to organise a family weekend away with my parents, brothers, sisters, their spouses and our collective twelve children (almost half of whom are mine). One local hotel quoted us triple that of my brother's family of five. It took all I had not to politely enquire if they were taking the complete p***!
Owning a caravan isn't an option either because they only go up to a 6 berth. Between you and me though, I suspect that I'm not cut out for caravaning anyway. I've tried to like it over the years because I know that I should- it's so family friendly after all....but I just can't. I hate rolling up beds and sleeping bags and walking in flip flops across wet grass with a toilet bag under my arm. And it's SO off putting trying to eat breakfast while watching men file past, their turd filled pullalongs bouncing along behind them. And what of the prospect of a little 'summer lovin'?' Let's just say that the cosy proximity of 5 children is a most effective deterrant. Enough said. 
Another problem is to fly us all anywhere is so expensive! I was quoted €5000 for us all to fly to Boston this summer to meet up with family on Cape Cod, but as this didn't include car hire and accommodation, it's back to the drawing board. Last year we did take the children to Canterbury to stay with my cousin. We flew into Gatwick, and as I went into the M&S to stock up on wine and goodies, Loverboy took the 5 kids to pick up the minivan we'd rented. As I came out of the shop, laden down with bags, I stopped for a moment or two to organise myself. A policewoman standing close by came over and asked me, totally unprompted, if I was looking for a man with five children. (Cue instant internal vanity panic ' Do I look like a mother of five? What does a mother of five look like anyway? Old? Haggard? I must look like shit!') Quickly composing myself,  I admitted that I was indeed, so she informed me that they'd passed her a few minutes before. With a certain amount of dread, I then asked her how she knew that we were all together, and she replied that she'd noticed them because a man with so many children is very unusual .Then she'd spotted me, and the family resemblance and baby bottle had given the game away. Give that woman a job in MI5!


The Griswolds off to Wally World- at least it's sunny!

 I know we're not THAT unusual though - most of my friends have four children, a few have more. It's just that I suspect we're not found en masse in airports very much- we're in a 4/5 bed rental in rainy Donegal. Or in Kerry as we were last year, which was, in the kids opinion, our best holiday EVER. Jude did his 'All about me' powerpoint presentation in school this week and stated that it was his favourite trip, the only minor downside being the wood lice. Only downside? It was a damp, wood lice infested shitty dump with no dishwasher or microwave, an ancient cooker and plastic settees. Oh, and it rained so much that we came home two days early. And yet....the children reminisce about the beach, the picnics, the boogie boarding and the fish and chips. Go figure!
So maybe it's high time that I wound my neck in and instead felt grateful for the fact that my children, maybe more than their mother, know what really counts is time together ..and lots of ice cream. And despite the tempting holiday deals, I won't be selling any children on Gumtree this year after all......But I will make absolutely sure that next time we get a rental house, it'll have a dishwasher, a comfortable settee and definitely NO wood lice!