Hotels with Kids...a whole new world!

going on my holliers...

 I think that it would be fair to say that our children don't get to stay in hotels very often. The first time was particularly memorable- we stayed in a Premier Inn somewhere in England last year, while attending a relative's birthday party. With officially waaaay too much family going on, for the so called 'family' room, getting the crew past hotel reception was our first challenge. So after much discussion, we decided to 'divide and conquer', as in 'stay in the car, gimme 5 minutes, then bring in the rest of them', and it really worked a treat.
 That night the party was great craic, although unfortunately the birthday girl didn't actually make it to her own celebrations- she got waylaid at home by her daughter, who was inconveniently delivering a 7th child in her bath at the time. I suppose you can't just pop your head around the bathroom door at that point and say 'That's us now, love. We're off. Don't wait up!'
Later on at the party, just after the mini pizzas, it was announced that baby Wulfric had been born, (entirely naturally), weighing in at an eye watering sixteen pounds! Well, what could we partygoers do only wet his (very large) head?
 Things weren't so upbeat in our overcrowded hotel room later on though-stuffed full of candy floss, cake and coke, a groaning Rory sat up abruptly and hurled all over a sleeping Cormac. At some level, I obviously registered 'Code Barf', and leapt out of bed, completely disorientated, stubbing my toe hard on the travel cot right beside me. The jolt and my subsequent screams of pain, unsurprisingly woke six month old Luke from his slumbers, and as you can imagine, it was all fun and games from there.
Take it from me, there's few things more sobering than cleaning up vomit drenched boys at 3am, and there's few things worse, than nursing the emerging hangover, in that same small airless hotel room, heavy with the lingering aroma of fresh gack.

Close...

Later at breakfast, the boys had bounced right back, (unlike us!), and were busy testing the limits of the 'bottomless breakfast' hotel deal.  Well used to heavy sanctions at home, they made it their sole mission to devour the hotel's entire supply of cocoa pops. Jude alone, managed 6 full bowls. Their poor cousin, arriving after the scavengers onslaught, was understandably gutted to be left with the pitiful choice of Weetabix or cornflakes.
 Our second brief hotel stay was just a few months ago for a family wedding. It should be said that this time, it was in a MUCH fancier hotel, and we had wisely opted for adjoining rooms. The kids were beside themselves with all the freebies- Easter eggs, bottles of water, biscuits, toiletries...there was even a toilet bag with a cuddly penguin and a toothbrush in it for them. But, clearly unused to the concept of hotels in general, and especially those of the 5* variety, the younger two naturally assumed that anything not nailed down was indeed theirs for the taking. In fact, I discovered Rory stashing 'this lovely book', (The Holy Bible), into his case, while Cormac was found squeezing the origami swan shaped towels into his. It seemed that everything in the room was fair game- Rory actually pondered aloud whether the very lamps would match our living room...and whether he could possibly fit them into his case.
Now I've whittered on enough, and I never even got to tell you about last weekend, when my parents, siblings, spouses and our collective twelve children descended en masse to a hotel in Donegal. I'll save that wee gem for another time, but in the meantime, here's a picture taken en route from the front of the car. All I can say is, thank God for in -car DVD players.

Peace, perfect peace.

 And no, they weren't watching Chain Saw Massacre- it was a Disney flick, about a dog that runs away or something. Who gives a shit? Because what you see there my friends, is 2 hours of blissfully quiet car time...just before two whole days of fabulous madness. Happy Monday Amigosxx .

A Small Slice of Life

I have quite the weekend ahead. For the next forty eight hours I have places to go, people to see and things to do. Some of that time will be filled with joy and excitement, some of it with sorrow and reflection. The mother of one of my oldest friend's died yesterday- I can still picture her in my head laughing, as she did the 'slush' with her sisters, at her daughter's wedding. It was their signature dance and now she's gone. Tonight I'll go to her wake, and tomorrow to her funeral.
My mum had a birthday two weeks ago, but because my brother is home from America, we're going to her favourite restaurant tonight to celebrate. Another great friend is tying the knot in a few weeks, and this happens to be her hen weekend, so tomorrow evening I'm off to Carlingford to help give her the send off she so richly deserves. Then, on Sunday afternoon, the whole clan is coming to ours for lunch- a sort of 'last supper' for my brother who is heading Stateside again on Monday. Phew!
The thing is, that last night when I was thinking of all the plans, and running through the organizing required to make it all work, I found that I was feeling a bit, well, stressed. And kind of wishing the weekend away, just so that I could get to Sunday night, and finally be sitting down with a cuppa and everything ticked off my list. But then thankfully, I realized that I was looking at it entirely the wrong way, and completely missing the whole point in the process. This weekend actually represents a little slice of life - there's celebrations of life, and death, and quality time with friends and family, and surely that's what its all about? So, instead of viewing it as a whole entity, I looked again at the individual parts, and began to feel a lot less of the stressed and much more of the blessed.
 I'll celebrate my mum's birthday with family tonight, while my good friend stands at her mother's grave tomorrow- it will be my privilege to be there and stand alongside her. I'm able to spend time with my brother, who lives 6000 miles away, when recently an acquaintance told me, that her brother hadn't been home for ten years.  I've also waited months to celebrate our lovely Nuala's impending nuptials in a wholesome and sensible way (Ha!), and this Saturday night we'll do that in style! And as for the full house on Sunday? Well, everyone's bringing something, and they'll all muck in, and sure the craic will be ninety. So here's to this weekend, which I think I can say with some certainty, won't be a boring one ....let's be having ya!!