A Bit of a Donkey

I put this little gem on the blog almost two years ago, and stumbled upon it again just the other day. And I'm glad I did because it still gives me a big old laugh every time I watch it so here it is again....just cos it's Friday ...don't say I'm not good to you!

Donkey Derby

Tell me this, have you ever heard of donkey derbys? Being a city girl, I certainly hadn't...until I met Loverboy, and happened to one day enquire what all the trophies and plaques on his mother's mantelpiece were for. Had he a secret talent that he hadn't yet shared with me?

 Nope, turns out his family used to own a donkey by the name of Pepe, who apparently was a bit of a Red Rum in the Irish Donkey Derbys circles. These derbys took place on Sundays in fields all over Ireland during the 1980s and 90s, and I'm told were a great family day out.

I'm pretty disappointed that I never made it to a single one, especially when I watched this classic recorded in Castletown in 1994... I thought I'd die laughing...hope you do too. (Laugh, not die obvs.)

Friday Quicktakes

Gorgeous girlie!

1. I looked after my delicious niece Rosa overnight this week, and I had a bit of a moment when I realised that mashed up vegetables, car seats, nappies,  bottles, bibs and naptimes are all things of the past in our house. I mean I knew this, of course I did, and yet for the longest time my days were punctuated by naps  and feeds, and nappy changes and now they've taken on a different shape...not necessarily better, or worse, but different.

 I now have little pockets of time at times of the day that I never had before. Take now, for instance- I'm writing this in a quiet house before I grab my keys and rush off to lift Luke from nursery- even a year ago, that wouldn't have happened. Similarly, my precious quiet evenings that I looked forward to, sometimes from noon on a particularly 'challenging' day, and guarded so jealously that I resented even answering the phone, are now filled with teenagers making late snacks, hogging the  TV and endlessly FaceTiming their buddies.

Oh my goodness...there's my feet! (in Fly London FYI)

2. On Wednesday,  I took Luke to meet his P1 teacher and see his new classroom for the first time. All around me were first time mothers and fathers, blinking at the novelty of it all, scarcely able to believe that their first born was actually going to school. There were baby bumps and toddlers on hips and I realised that I was one of the older mums, an old hand who rocked in fashionably late, timing it perfectly to miss the headmaster's speech and the traffic jam in the car park.

Old. I saw it in their eyes when they asked how many kids I had and what their ages were, and as they shook their heads in wonder because 'big school' and teenagers was like light years away. I wanted to tell them that it wasn't that long ago I was exactly where they are now, and it wouldn't be too long at all before they stood in my shoes too. But I didn't, and they wouldn't have believed me even if I had. I just gazed wistfully at my baby as he played happily with the teapot house and understood that unlike them, P1 would for me be a series of lasts, not firsts.



3. Yikes, midlife crisis anyone? On a lighter note, Dora the dog is obsessed, OBSESSED with zhu zhu pets- those annoying electric hamster things that get under your feet and squeak a lot? Well, the younger kids have a selection  of them- at £1 each in Home Bargains- I pushed the boat out- and she just tracks them all around the house.

There's been a few casualties too- I came across two that had been mauled- wires hanging out, squeaking stuck on a loop, clumps of fur all around- it was a crime scene-so they've taken to hiding them in high places. Here's Dora tortured with longing, leaping up and down knowing that her nemesis is hiding just behind the picture...she stayed like this for an entire hour.  



4. Call me a saddo, but tonight we're off to see Bagatelle - they're playing in tent at the top of our road as part of the annual GAA festival and I'm VERY excited. I've never seen them live before and they are legends- an old school local band that provided the soundtrack to long ago days. *faraway look*  Many's a snog I enjoyed with 'Summer in Dublin' playing in the background and I remember listening to their Greatest Hits album on cassette as I 'revised' for my finals....good times.

5.So, given this, Boogie in the Car Seat this week has to be Bagatelle. Enjoy my lovelies, and have a good weekend, Em xxx

Friday Quicktakes

1. Loverboy treated himself to a new toy recently. Its a radio controlled quadcopter, which flies around and takes aerial photos and video and he is LOVING it. To be honest, it IS pretty cool,  seeing aerial views of your house and surrounding countryside, especially as I have such awful bearings.

He brought it with us to the caravilla and got some gorgeous footage of the coastline. Turned out it was a great talking point too, because every single time he had it on the beach, somebody came over to see what it was and to ask him questions about it. Which I suspect gets old pretty quickly because it's essentially the same conversation over and over, but as I told him, that's the price of owning such a cutting edge toy.....Which incidentally cost about the same as 10, maybe even 15 pairs of shoes......just sayin'!



 2. The following words actually emerged from my mouth the other day (and in a suitably outraged tone as well!)
'You know what I'm going to do ? I'm going to go down those stairs this minute and ring 1800 TOOTH FAIRY because this just ISN'T ON !'

This was in response to the tooth fairy not turning up.... 10 days after the tooth first came out. Shocking service, I know. In her defence though, we were all away over Easter and the dentally challenged boy only went and left the tooth at home, and then there was the added distraction of chocolate and Easter and more chocolate, and hell, somehow it was all forgotten about... until we came home that is.

And just between you and me, as this boy is now ten, I strongly suspect that he's adopting a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy where the tooth fairy is concerned,  thus making an easy few quid while he still can. Or maybe I've got it all wrong and he's actually weeping with disappointment  into his pillow at this moment.... Oh crapola.

 Update- The Tooth Fairy just made a highly unusual daytime delivery, sent her apologies for the delay and even stuck in a bit extra for the inconvenience.....one classy chick if you ask me!

Further Update-He SO knows. I cunningly made him check under his pillow for jammies that needed washing., and down he came without a word about cash or tooth fairies, but his all knowing smirk told me all I needed to know. Cormac 1, Tooth Fairy 0. 

3. Holy Communion prep is now into its final stages and I must admit, occasionally at times like this I long for a small, polite family, who would celebrate by going  for a perfectly affordable, delicious meal in which table manners would be observed at all times, and then returning to a impeccably tidy house where I'd put my feet up and catch up on the latest Grazia.

NEVER GONNA HAPPEN. Not with forty people and a bouncy castle coming.  A new barbeque has been ordered especially for the event. An industrial sized Tesco delivery will arrive midweek. Thankfully it includes lots of prosecco.

The most untidy boy in the entire world will be coereced into a suit for his big day, and then bribed to keep it on for the photos. I give it an hour til the crocs go on. There'll be babies crying and kids bouncing and money being indiscreetly counted in the corner by Communion boy and his brothers.

 There'll be grandparents and cousins and brothers and sisters, and godparents and aunties and uncles and friends.  There'll be noise and laughter and mess, and shouting over each other and joking around because that's the way we do Communions...and Christenings and birthdays and Christmas around here.

And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way, because they are ALL my tribe and I suppose that this is what love looks like in a loud, messy, bigger family than most kinda way.
As Yoda would say, Blessed am I.

4.I'm back on the 5:2 program because I've put on half a stone since last summer. But here's the thing-I never actually stopped it....except for holidays obvs, so I may, in fact, be the only person on the planet to put on weight on while doing it.

I blame my (barely)over forty metabolism. That, and the fact that on reflection, I may have more than slightly ripped the arse outta the non fast days, in a caramel square, wine and chocolate sort of way.
So me and My Fitness Pal are keeping a close eye on the portion sizes and a ban on all caramel squares is in force until my 'just checking' dress zips up without cutting off the circulation to my head.
 Oh and wouldn't you know-here's the book our Rory  just happens to be reading right now-bad karma or what?


5. Speaking of  fast days, I've discovered zero noodles- Nigella loves them- apparently they've almost no calories, are very filling, and are good in stir fries.  I ordered them online but when they arrived and I showed them to Loverboy, he just raised his eyebrows, then tore a bit of cardboard off the packaging, handed it to me and said "Look toast! no calories and for you only 3 quid a slice!" Cheeky sod....I'll show him...and give you my honest verdict next week, peeps.







6. Boogie in the Car Seat. A great song with an important message....and it also makes me hold my head just that little bit higher!
Enjoy and have a good weekend my lovelies, Emma xx

Friday Quicktakes

1. Truth be told, I've had better Valentines' Days. We had rented a house for a few days (en famille, not a deux), so the morning was spent packing toilet rolls, stew and hot water bottles-(What can I say, it seemed like a good idea at the time?)-and it pretty much went downhill from there.

The torrential rain should have been a sign to stay put, a nauseous child even more so. But despite reservations (mine) off we went, complete with trusty 'boke bowl' on the green -looking kid's lap just in case. (Which rather worryingly emerged, not from its designated spot under the utility room's sink, but from the baking cupboard in the kitchen.... but moving swiftly on.)

I'll not bore you with details of the journey, suffice to say, it included a car malfunction, a boke bowl that was pressed into service three times in total, and several all time lows involving the disposal of  bowls of vomit into hedges in torrential rain. (It would certainly be true to say that more than once on that journey, I recalled, with some nostalgia, a very different Valentine's Day in New York three years ago.)

And the fun didn't stop there. On arrival, a freezing house awaited us - it was so bloody cold that I actually wore my hat, socks and cardigan in bed - and our poor vomiting child had such an awful
night that she ended up in A&E with an IV drip early the next morning. Truly the very best that can be said about the whole sorry heart shaped day - and I think I speak for all seven of us here - is that blessedly it's over.

2. We jumped right into the 'Great British Sewing Bee' this week, and that rather dashing judge Patrick Watson, (even though I suspect may be a friend of Dorothy), is the icing on the cake....or perhaps more aptly, the
embroidery on the napkin.

Maybe if my H.E. teacher had looked like him, I'd be running up curtains and making my family's clothes now, instead of just sewing on the odd swimming badge and clearing out the Boden sale.
But just as during first series, despite our utter lack of practical experience, Himself and myself have morphed into experts overnight.

'Oh no, call that an invisible hem? I heard myself say,
'he'll be out for that!' And then later would you look at the state of that seam-She's clearly out of her depth!'
came the scathing voice in bed beside me.
Tres enjoyable, I must say... it would almost encourage me to ask for a sewing machine for my next birthday....Nah, not really.


3. Here's a gender/medical question for all you experts out there - why do boys fart so much and why do they find it endlessly hilarious?  In the car, at the table, in the bath, on each other's beds ...I am, like soooo over it ten years ago, and yet around here it's a joke that never gets old, and the gift that keeps on giving.

And will they grow out of it? Ever? An experienced mama once told me that I'd know when they'd  discovered girls because they'd start to smell themselves. Now, I think she actually meant their armpits, but you'd think it might apply to flatulence too, wouldn't you?


Although from what I recall of my own three brothers, I'm pretty sure that any restraint exercised didn't extend to the home setting AT ALL, so Unfortunately,  I suspect that I may just have to
suck it up, so to speak, as one of the many crosses joys of living in a male dominated household.

4. Rory's homework over midterm has been to learn to tie his laces - I think his teacher is completely fed up having to tie them for him after PE - and let's just say that it's been a struggle. This is one of the few downsides of  Velcro closing shoes, which incidentally they never had in our day, so we all learned to tie at about eighteen months old. And even though it was an unpopular decision, I felt the only way round it was to force the issue, and buy them lace up school shoes.

The truth is, I'd noticed that the two of them were actually avoiding wearing their (expensive!) laced up Converse and DMs,  in favour of their (cheap) Velcro strap Tesco runners, and suddenly I had visions of them heading off to uni in their size 10 white Velcro gutties.....hence the drastic measures.  Success has still eluded Rory in particular, despite a sticker chart in operation, but we're getting there...no point getting tied up in knots over it. (Sorry - couldn't resist.)

5. Finally, boogie in the car seat is a little song I heard one Sunday morning on the radio and I loved it. It's called 'Follow Your Arrow' by Kasey Musgraves, and it's from her fabulously named album 'Same Trailer, Different Park' - unsurprisingly it's a little bit country and a whole lot wise. (Oh and FYI, it's uncanny how similar the two of us look in denim cutoffs and cowboy boots!) Enjoy and Happy Friday, my lovelies xxx

:

A Kindred Spirit

 Just the other day I met a kindred spirit. A lovely lady, with skin so fresh that when she told me that she was sixty nine I could hardly believe it.

 A lady with the warmest smile and the kindest eyes, she began a conversation as we sat side by side at a counter having a cup of coffee.

A conversation that began quite naturally when she leaned over and enquired about the book that I'd just taken from my bag - 'The Happiness Project' by Gretchen Rubin.

I'm halfway through and really enjoying it, so  I told her about it and she listened and nodded, and then I realised I was prattling on a bit, so I got all shy and a bit tongue tied. But then she took out her pen and carefully wrote down the title and author -she said it sounded like the perfect gift for someone she knew. Thoughtful, you see.

We talked on then about other things and I knew she was a kindred spirit, because we got straight to the core of things, without any of the layers of BS and self consciousness that often accompanies a  new encounter.

She told me about her chronic medical condition, with the good days and the bad, and the faith that helped her through it. And she wrote down her doctor's name so that I could pass it on to a friend with a similar condition.

She said that she's always thought that if she can help others out along the way, then her own life will have been worthwhile....and often all it takes is a word and a smile.

She explained that when she was younger, she'd taken on other people's pain and problems as her own, but as she'd got older she'd learned to balance her sensitivity with the need to protect herself... but it had taken a long time to learn.

As we parted, she touched my arm and with a smile as warm as the sun, she thanked me for our chat. So of course, I told her that it had been lovely to meet her....because how could I put into words that what I actually felt, was enriched by her wisdom, and understood on some deeper level that I didn't quite understand.... and that maybe we might be kindred spirits.

But no, I didn't say that, because it would have sounded weird and more than a bit psycho stalkerish, especially if she hadn't read Anne of Green Gables....but strangely enough, I think she knew anyway. I hope I meet her again some day.

Friday Quicktakes

1. January is almost over and thank God for that. It felt like three months- the awful weather, the short days and the whole 'being broke after Christmas' thing is bad enough, but throw a dry January into the mix and I was into a whole new level of fun.

But...I did it and just as I'd suspected,  the weeks were grand, but the Friday and Saturday nights lacked a certain je ne sais quoi. (Translation- they were very dull indeed.) It may well have been mostly psychological, but the lack of that seven o'clock glass or two to herald in the weekend was a right old beehatch.

Overall, I suppose that I'm that glad I did it...and it DOES mean that I'll be enjoying a liquid Lent with no guilt whatsoever, but I'm glad it's almost over. The thing is, I fantasied about having a cheeky glass FAR more than I usually would simply because it wasn't on the cards... Like dreaming of chocolate when you're on a diet. But never fear,  rest assured that tomorrow evening I'll be getting very cosy with a bottle of prosecco. Hello February!!


2. I started back to my writing class last week where there's a few fresh faces and a few familiar ones as well. I actually felt like quite the old hand, with one whole semester under my belt. Not that I've much to show for it mind, but I no longer felt that I was a fraud amongst all the 'proper' writers.
I'm gradually learning not to waste time thinking about writing, or worrying how my offerings will
compare to others, but just to bloody write. Even if it's complete rubbish that will never see the light of day, because hopefully the very act of writing will eventually produce something worth reading. And just getting something, anything down on paper- a very shitty first draft (SFD- thank you again Anne Lamott)- is better than a pile of thoughts and a blank screen.  So did I do that today? Nope, I mooched over here to shoot the breeze with you. But it's still writing...right?



3. Cute picture- couldn't resist. Here's Luke sporting a little something Cormac got for his birthday. Suits you sir!

















4. This week Ireland has gone Garth Brooks mad. He started off playing  two nights and seems to be adding more every hour.  We're one of the lucky ones to be making the pilgrimage to Croke Park in July and I CANNOT WAIT.

It may be a slightly inappropriate comparison but I can only compare the excitement and build up to Pope John Paul II's visit in 1979...only with less praying and more cowboy hats and rhinestones.
See y'all there, all y'all. (Technically that's correct)

5. Boogie in the car seat today HAS to be a Garth number because quite simply, how could it not!? Love this song-hope you do too!
See you in February lovelies xxx

To Cormac

From ten pounds five to ten years old...I can hardly believe that you're into double figures already! 

You're undoubtedly my most studious, responsible and reliable child. I worry sometimes though, because you've a tendency towards perfectionism which is both your greatest asset and your harshest critic.

Relax and roll with it -occasionally things won't work out quite the way you thought they would, and that's okay. Sometimes, they work out even better in the long run.

You're such a good big brother. I'll never forget that from the day we brought Luke home from hospital, I'd find you lying beside his cot in the mornings, just holding his hand as he slept-his very own guardian angel.

Right now, it's your lot to share a room with a very untidy brother- your side of the room is neat as a pin, while his is a bomb site, and I know this drives you mad. You DO get your own back though - your ability to fart at will is a constant source of hilarity. Apparently it's a talent, or so you tell me.

Looking through old photos today, made me a little wistful for the gorgeous curly haired cherub you were, but I'm so proud and grateful for the big boy you've become.

I HAVE noticed that you're not as generous with the hugs and kisses these days -(I KNOW you're getting older so I'll just keep asking) - but when the notion takes you, they're as warm and as loving as they ever were.

So a very Happy 10th Birthday to you, my beautiful Cormac. Your Daddy and I look forward to watching you fly in the years ahead, (but you know we'll always be here to catch you if you fall). 

All my love Mummy xxx

(PS I hope you enjoy your new Kindle even though it hasn't got WiFi.... worth a try, kid, but it was never gonna happen-ask me again in five years!)

 

The Wrong Direction

Because it's Wednesday.

Because I just don't 'get' One Direction.

Because I REALLY don't 'get' Harry Styles.

Because I'm way too old obvs.

 But mostly, just cos it's funny and it made me LOL,

Laters lovelies xxx

Growing Your Own

I am the least green fingered person you'll ever meet and no, that doesn't make me proud. Himself sniggers knowingly 'I give it two weeks, a month max!' whenever someone gives me any kind of plant, and unfortunately and annoyingly, he's usually right.

 I don't know really know why I'm so rubbish at it either. Maybe it's my tendency to forget that the green growing thing needs water, and then when I DO remember, I tend to overcompensate,  a horticultural feast or famine, if you like. And despite a liberal sprinkling of Baby Bio from time to time (when I remember) sadly sooner, rather than later, it inevitably gives up the ghost.

So what do I do? Well, to be honest, I've no real yearning to be a 'proper' gardener-all that kneeling down and dirty finger nails just isn't my thing, but I would like to be able to manage a plant. I've five children, for goodness sake- how hard can it be? I adore fresh flowers even though I usually end up buying them myself (Yes, that was a dig...with a pun). I place them lovingly into warm sugar water right away, and for days I get great pleasure just looking at them. (Unless they're chrysanthemums- I HATE chrysanthemums.)

Anyway, a few weeks ago Himself and myself popped into Aldi on our way back from our romantic weekend away (ending on a high note obvs), where I came upon these 'grow your own herbs' sets.

(Side note- Aldi/ Lidl has everything. In the past year alone, we've procured fishing gear, scuba sets, wet suits, wine, heaters, fake crocs, and fillet steaks, all at very competitive prices..... Which seamlessly segues to the musical link at the end of the post.)

But back to the herbs- every time I watch dishy Jamie Oliver's '30 minute Meals', inevitably, he picks up his scissors, and while still casually chatting to the camera, glides over and expertly snips away at the luxuriant selection of herbs growing in gorgeous painted earthenware pots on the windowsill....  I don't mind telling you I get quite demented with envy every time. And even though I'd bet my new Boden handbag that he doesn't tend and water those herbs himself- it IS a pretend kitchen after all- it makes my meagre array of 'out of date' jars seem pathetically inadequate.


So when I saw these cheeky little sets in Aldi, I snapped them up, much to the hilarity of Himself. What I didn't realise at the time, was that they didn't actually come complete with soil (it's true- I really am that stupid), but once the mini bag of compost was purchased the other day,  the planting part was plain sailing.

Check out that labeling-Go Rory!

They're currently on the kitchen windowsill (Up Yours Jamie), even though the instructions DID say to put them in plastic bags, I haven't done it, and that's purely for aesthetic reasons. As in I don't really want an old Tesco bag covering my beautiful handiwork and Rory's impressive labeling....but on the other hand, I DO want them to actually grow, so any advice at all from you herbaceous gardeners out there would be mucho appreciated.






I shall leave you with this very funny little song about Lidl and Aldi....and, just for the record,  I'm certain that my Dad has bought EVERY SINGLE THING on that list. ( Retirees LOVE Aldi and Lidl- FACT).
Enjoy my lovelies, Emx

Friday Quicktakes (Warning-This May Kill Your Buzz)

1. God, I hate January! I know that's an awful way to start a post, especially on a Friday, but everything about it just brings me down. And no, it's not just because I decided to go dry for January this year,  (What the hell was I thinking?) because it's like this every year. I've had two January babies in my time, so those particular years were an exception - there was all the anticipation, and then before I knew it it was Spring- but let's face it, this is not a long term solution for the January blues.
And yup, there's no question that the lack of a few weekend glasses of wine DOES sting, (one down, two to go), but I'm obstinately digging my heels in and telling myself that hey doofus, that's the whole point! I KNOW that I'll be glad I did it, and anyway, I'd rather do January than Lent. (Lent is SO gonna rock for me this year.)
But to be honest, it's more than that, because I just feel really flat, woefully lacking in motivation and utterly devoid of creativity - basically a real frickin joy to be around. It doesn't exactly help that everyone else's blogs and writings seems witty and uplifting, full of talent and enthusiasm, joyfully embracing the New Year and all the wonderful challenges ahead. I always hope that some of all that inspring, fun and positive stuff will rub off on me, but no. Sadly, I find that it mostly just gets on my t*ts.
Then, in my self pitying apathy and dejection, I become utterly convinced that by the end of January, everyone else will have penned a best seller, attained their perfect goal weight and never forgotten their pelvic floor exercises. Unlike me, who will have merely wrung out a pitiful few hundred words here and there, while polishing off the end of the Christmas chocolate and peeing when I sneeze.*

2. If you're still reading this, it's more that I deserve, but as it happens, getting that lot off my chest/ dumping it all on to you, has improved my mood considerably... so thanks for that. I actually DID want to tell you about a book that I've been reading.  It's a New York Times best seller (Overachieve much?) called 'The Happiness Project' by Gretchen Rubin.  In a nutshell, she dedicated a year into researching  what happiness is,  how best to measure it, and then applying it to her own life.  I must admit that I found that a good few of her pre project observations struck a chord with me. Comments such as,
'I had much to be happy about......I had close relationships with my parents, sister, and in laws; I had friends; I had my health; I didn't have to colour my hair. But too often I sniped at my husband...I lost my temper easily. I suffered bouts of melancholy, insecurity, listlessness, and free floating guilt.'
And
 'I wasn't depressed and I wasn't having a midlife crisis, but I was suffering from midlife malaise- a recurrent sense of discontent and almost a feeling of disbelief. 'Can this be me?'
And
'Bogged down in petty complaints, and passing crises, weary of struggling with my own nature, I too often failed to comprehend the splendor of what I had. I didn't want to keep taking these days for granted. The words of the writer Colette had haunted me for years : 'What a wonderful life I've had! I
only wish I'd realised it sooner."

Heavy stuff, eh! Though in practical terms, all she's really done so far, is to clear out her wardrobes, but hey, she's feeling buzzed...and meanwhile, I'm reading about it and thinking that I should clear mine too, but I can't be arsed. Never mind,  the next chapter's all about LURVE so I'll see where she goes with that. I do like her writing style and secretly I'm hoping that she won't go all unbearably happy clappy by the end of the book. Apparently,(wouldn't ya know!), she also writes a blog which, even though I haven't checked it out yet, I'll warrant you'll  leave it feeling a fair bit more upbeat than this one. Onwards and upwards and all that shit.

3. But enough of the naval gazing, because I want to talk about boy Rory who's eight on Sunday. He's number four outta five. (Is that technically a middle child?)
 What this kid can't make from paper and Sellotape, glue and pipe cleaners, just ain't worth having! He's getting a label maker for his birthday-(Don't tell him... and thank you to Hurrah for Gin for the brill idea!)
This boy loves nothing more than a good hoke through the recycling bin or even better, a skip to leap head first into. He always emerges with a 'treasure' of some kind- for example, the old plastic flowers discarded from someone's grave, now have pride of place in the downstairs loo.
 He got a proper tool set for Christmas.
He never EVER looks tidy. His shirt hangs out, his trousers fall down and he's been known to expose more than a bit of bum crack, to the particular annoyance of his big sister.
He loves his food...a lot.
He loves his family...a lot. He tells me every day that I'm the best mummy and he gives the best hugs out of all my children.
He wears his heart firmly on his sleeve and he has no back door -what you see is what you get.
He's very funny and spontaneous. Last night before his shower he dressed up/ down as  'naked Darth Vader' (mask,  light saber and not another stitch) and then triumphantly proceeded to lap the kitchen island .
 My life would have a lot less laughter and far fewer hugs without him in it.
Happy Birthday, my beautiful boy. xxx

4. Today's car seat boogie is a Rory favourite. Since recently buying Anna's old iPod shuffle for £1(she got an iPhone for Christmas), and utilizing the mini speaker she soldered in Tech class(Impressive, non?), we've been treated to this song on a loop. At full blast with dance routine included. I won't tell you to 'enjoy' it as such, but I know for sure that he will.  Happy Friday lovelies xx



*Not always...but sometimes.

Christmas Quicktakes

1. The younger kids got out of school today at 12 o'clock, and have been high on selection boxes and  excitement ever since. Actually though, they came home yesterday afternoon and assured me that their respective teachers had thoughtfully told them that they needn't bother coming in today- they should just have a nice long lie in instead. Aye right, like either of those two scenarios is ever going to happen.  So I was all 'Hmmmm, okay then, stay off if you like...but I've a list of jobs you'll be helping me with....and you'd just be playing and watching DVDs in school. Totally up to you though!' Needless to say, they decided to go into school.  Yours Truly, 1. Teachers, nil, I think.

Our Anna (14) and Rosa (1 week)

2. Welcome to the world, little miss Rosa Elizabeth Anne, my newest niece, and isn't she beautiful? Here's the oldest and youngest grandchildren together.... and there's sixteen more in between! They'll all be here on  Christmas morning, along with with my five siblings, their five spouses and our parents. Something tells me it's gonna be loud, crazy and a whole lot of fun!













3. I got my nails done this week for Christmas and I've been sneaking admiring glances at them ever since. You likey? They even stood up to making pastry, and  I'm pleased to report that they survived the ordeal unscathed... which is just as well really, cos let's face it,  no one wants a diamante bow in their mince pie.


4. Its been a week of lists, which I work my way through, then score out (or actually delete off my phone).  The problem is that as quick as I 'make mincepies', 'write cards', 'wrap presents', it's deleted and instantly replaced with something else. Today it's 'do Tesco shop','research city break', (sadly not for me) 'write blogpost', 'make pasta dish', 'shave legs'.  And I'm writing this first, obvs, so the legs may or may not make the cut, so to speak, if you will.

5. Finally, in the midst of all the madness here's a little musical treat for you.  It's my very favourite Christmas carol, and almost five years ago my sister Mary (baby Rosa's mammy) sang it had her own wedding. Imagine that! It was so very special, absolutely beautiful (as was she), and I'll always remember it as one of 'those moments'. Unfortunately, I don't have footage of her singing, but here's the next best thing- the Celtic so enjoy!
Finally, finally, a very Happy Christmas to you all, my lovelies, wherever you are and whoever you're with, I really hope it's a great one. Much love, Emma xx

Friday Quicktakes

1. In the car yesterday, Anna was telling us about a joint English/ History project for school, in which she has to pick a person- anyone at all, dead or alive, famous or not, and make a persuasive argument for how they displayed courage and influence. She wasn't sure who to choose and we chatted briefly about courage and examples of it. Then later, we heard the news that Nelson Mandela had died and suddenly her choice seemed obvious, for who more worthy than he? RIP Mr Mandela.


2. We're putting up our Christmas decorations tonight and, would you believe, I'm in the doghouse already? Pour quoi? Because this year I committed the grievous sin of quietly ordering an artificial tree. I mean, honestly! You'd have thought I'd told them Christmas was cancelled and Santa wasn't coming by the looks on their faces.
'What's that? What? A fake tree? Noooooo! Is it tiny? I bet you it's titchy! We only love big trees!'  Eh,Yeah I know.  Last year's Griswald-esque one was only flippin'18 feet tall but I'm the only one who remembers the stupendous needle drop.
So then I tried explaining that it was no ordinary fake tree - it was a snow tipped Laurence Llewellyn Bowen inspired tree-luxuriant and a bit camp, rather like Mr LLB himself, now I think of it- but they weren't remotely impressed. There could well be a stand off later but I'll keep you posted.


3. Update- I went to my class yesterday, got back my assignment and was really pleased with my
mark and the tutor's encouraging words. It's definitely inspired me to keep writing.
Now part of me was still busy thinking- 'Behave yourself! It's just a short story. It doesn't make you flippin' Marian Keyes so get a grip.' But the other part just wanted to run home with it and tell my Mammy.....So that's just what I did. And in true Mammy style she put me over exactly what the tutor said five or six times, and then wrote it down word for word to tell her friends/ family/ dogs on the street later. I suppose some things never change and I'm very glad they don't.


4. Always on the look out for purveyors of fine tray bakes and unlimited coffee refills, three-year-old Luke and I arranged to meet Herself (Mammy/Nana) in a place we'd never frequented before. We walked in and Luke was assessing it all- the Christmas decorations, the smells, the impressive selection of goodies- and then he turned to me, nodded approvingly and said, 'Good choice, Mummy.'  (That's ma boy!)

5. Finally, when we lived in the US, I listened to a radio station rather embarrassingly called  WASH-FM - Soft Rock, and for a whole month, from the day after Thanksgiving, until Christmas Day they would play only Christmas songs 24/7 -Well, I LOVED it! It totally put me in the Christmas mood and I got to hear every Christmas song under the sun- who knew there were so many Country ones? Anyway, the first time I heard this one, I could hardly drive the car I was crying so much...in my defense, I think I was pregnant at the time. So here it is, a big slice of Christmas cheese maybe.....but still guaranteed to bring a wee tear to my eye every single time.
Enjoy and have  a good weekend , my Lovelies xxxxx

A Jealous Heart

I'd thought I was better than that, I suppose. Maybe because I hadn't felt its nip for years, I'd got complacent, and assumed it was a now unfamiliar feeling consigned to my past, along with the DM boots and hippy skirts with mirrors and tassels on them. Jealousy, the green eyed monster, call it what you will - I can honestly say that I hadn't felt it in years...until the other day.

I remember it well in the early days of our relationship. Fueled by insecurity, passion and cider and black, I'd flounce off in a jealous rage, then while away a few hours endlessly dissecting and discussing  the situation from every possible angle with my flat mates. And after that, of course there was the making up to look forward to. But call it maturity, call it complacency, call it having kids and just being knackered- thankfully that kind of drama has no place around here anymore.

I also remember feeling a jealous surge when I glimpsed petite, blonde girls wearing 501s. Those lucky, fine boned creatures, whose jeans hung effortlessly on their tiny hips, exposing just the merest hint of perfectly  toned, lightly tanned stomach.  They are my absolute polar opposite in every  way, but lying on the bed, shoehorning myself into size 20s and beyond, they became the holy grail to a big girl with a ginger perm and zero self esteem. Call it maturity, call it self acceptance, Hell, call it spanx, but blessedly I don't feel that way anymore.

I should make it clear that sadly, I have not yet evolved into a Zen like state in my old age, because I
DO sometimes still feel envy, which I like to think of as jealousy's less intense, much more laid back brother. Maybe a friend's great haircut, talk of a fabulous holiday, that ever elusive flat stomach, and I'll feel it brush against me as it flits by.. and then it's gone. To me, it's just part of the whole being human thing, but when its not invited in and entertained for tea, it holds no real power over us.

 I tell the children that we all must accept that there will always be people in life with more or less than us - in terms of gifts, talents, intellect, money, appearance - and that it's much healthier to focus on feeling grateful for what we have, rather than resentful for what we don't. I tell them this because I wholeheartedly believe it to be true. Which is perhaps why the other day, I was utterly blindsided by a current of jealously so strong, it knocked the wind from my body. So suffocating that for a moment I could hardly breathe, and so dark I could scarcely focus.

And the trigger? I had simply bumped into a friend who told me about an upcoming lifestyle change.

A lifestyle change that I want for myself so badly I can taste it, one that I would happily sell a kidney, or possibly even a child, in order to have. And yet, for various complicated reasons I can't see happening anytime soon, if at all.  But for this friend, it  appeared to have landed effortlessly in her lap without the need to compromise and under the best possible circumstances.

But before you understandably brand me as a terrible person, can I tell you that even in the midst of my jealous fog, I was happy for her. I knew how much she'd longed for this and I genuinely wished her well.... I just wanted it too. Thankfully though, I managed to smile and tell her how pleased I was for her...and I didn't cry until I was safely back in the car. There I fiercely reminded myself  to focus on the positives of my own situation, to remember how very lucky I was, and that now was her time, not mine...but it all just felt a bit hollow.

And later, in the aftermath of that green eyed tsunami, I found myself feeling vulnerable, weak and
full of self pity. It took me hours to regain my equilibrium and I was left with shame and
bewilderment at my reaction. Turns out I wasn't better than that after all. Emma x      

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Monday Matters

Monday morning, and I've got myself a stinker of a cold so don't come anywhere near me in case you catch it. My uncle once advised to 'feed a cold and starve a flu', which despite having no medical basis whatsoever, conveniently justified the huge plates of buttered toast in front of 'Going for Gold'. Unfortunately though, today is my 5:2 fast day...and here's a fun fact for you- Lemsip has actual calories which therefore must be counted, which is just wrong.

Anyway, moving on from the pity party, tomorrow's October- can you believe it? Especially after that glorious balmy weekend we just enjoyed, and so much for my annual autumnal wardrobe clear out a few weeks ago-sure,the t shirts were hoked out all over again!

This weeks busy for me- I'm starting New Stuff. Stuff that I couldn't do before I had ALL five children at school, and to quote Roald Dahl's Enormous Crocodile, (I've clearly been at home with children for far too long), 'I've got secret plans and clever tricks'.
Which isn't entirely true, but I've always wanted to say that, and actually, as it happens, this week I'm starting a  writing class, AND, (slightly more scarily), a two year course exploring faith and spirituality. I know! Who knew?

On top of that, I've decided to polish up my vocal chords and try and make a little cash singing at weddings and funerals. Which isn't really new for me- I've been singing at them for years on and off, mostly for family and friends. The difference is that I've never sought them out before, and that's mainly been down to a)a lack of time and b)a shed load of nerves.

So, I'd been half considering a few lessons to help with my confidence and tighten up certain key  pieces, when last week I spotted a Groupon deal, bought it on the spot and my first singing lesson in twenty years is this week as well. No pressure then. Oh, and despite feeling like a bit of a grim reaper, I stuck my name in the church bulletin stating my availability for funerals, but no luck as yet.....that actually sounds bad but you know what I mean!

In case you're wondering, with all this talk of change afoot, I've put the tattoo idea on the back burner for now. Honestly, I had no idea it would be such a polarising topic when I put it on the blog, and it certainly led to a lively discussion on Facebook - everyone has VERY definite opinions on the matter! I really loved hearing them all too, but I can't deny that it gave me a leetle bit of a speed wobble about the whole idea!

 Now, that may be because I hadn't thought it through properly, and was therefore somewhat undecided in the first place (in which case the wobble's a good thing) .... or it could be that, in general, I have a tendency to doubt the validity of my own decisions in the face of adversity (which isn't such a good thing when you think about it.)

Either way though, I shall think deep thoughts and decide ...just not right now. Because right now, my nose is running and my eyes are scratchy and my head is fuzzy and I'm going to go throw caution to the winds  and treat myself to that Lemsip and sod the 5:2. Peace out lovelies xx

Friday Quicktakes

1. First week of term down and its been a busy one. This year, it's two at the 'big' school , two at primary school, and the wee man's starting Nursery. Did you pick up on that last milestone I just casually dropped in there? The nursery part? Yes indeed, its a biggie alright but I'm just about managing to hold it together... in a 'lovely quiet house with freshly brewed coffee and uninterrupted trips to the loo' kinda way!

 Heres the thing, he's SO ready for it, I'm SO ready for it and let's face it, thus far it's only been a frickin' hour a day anyway, (building up to the grand total of two and a half hours the week after next-Yay!)

It's certainly breaking us both in gently, before the more significant leap to P1 next year, and truthfully, in my typically thran way, I was both delighted and somewhat miffed at how well he's settled. My Psychology training tells me that his skipping off happily illustrates a secure and happy child, but the contrary mammy in me would definitely have appreciated the odd trembling lip or clinging hug , thank you very much.

It's funny how things change though- four years ago when Rory went to nursery, I would have been weeping at the nursery door on a daily basis if I hadn't been pregnant again with Luke, and I remember pondering how I'd know when I was ready to move on...and now, for the first time in over fourteen years, I know that you just do... so this is all kinda new and exciting, and scary and liberating for me, all at the same time.Wish me luck Dudettes!

2. We're having a party this weekend, and no, its nothing whatsoever to do with the last point- it's a 'We're NOT moving house after all (for now anyway) Party' but really, it's just an excuse to have good friends and family over to eat, drink and be merry! As a treat, we've even booked caterers to come and make savoury and sweet crepes for everyone-it'll be just like the continental market without the hats and gloves- and even though I DO feel a teensy bit guilty cos it feels a bit like cheating, I'm also thinking 'Feck it! I'll just have to be queen of the bubbly and playlists instead!

3. Speaking of which, jsut in the nick of time, we've (sort of)  finished our sitting room, which until a few months ago, had bare walls, a concrete floor and a hole for a fireplace. Yep, only eight years here and we've finally done it - 80% anyway- and I'm chuffed to bits! Here's a little peek...and special mention must go to  Gumtree and Annie Sloane paint for keeping the costs down!

Whatya think?

4 Just for old times sake, I felt the urge to sneak in a little 'Boogie in the Car Seat' today, just cos its Friday and that alone makes me wanna dance. This week's is, quite aptly, a little bit country... AND it always reminds me of  Loverboy!  Have a good one, my lovelies xxx

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...

One Man's Trash.....

'Here's a lovely flower for you, Mummy! I found it in the skip in the graveyard. There's so many beautiful things in there, and I would've got you loads more only Daddy told me to get out....I just don't understand why people throw them all away! '
An incredulous Rory (age 7), shaking his head after an enjoyable spot of dumpster diving this week.

Just the Two of Us

Last weekend, we had two whole nights away  in a gorgeous hotel. As in, Himself and myself, minus the perma-hungry entourage and the minivan. It was our Christmas present from Loverboy's parents - they gifted us the accommodation AND the childcare -  seriously, if Carlsberg did Christmas presents....
I have to be honest though, I did reach a point on Thursday evening when I wondered if it was all worth it. I mean, I'd been looking forward to it for ages, but I'd blocked out how much planning and organization it takes to carve out an extended block of child free time, at this particular stage in our lives.

It's like a military operation - apart from the ten clothes changes, there was the swimming gear, the coats, the welly boots, the Lego, the DVDs, the coke and popcorn (for treats/bribes), the St Patrick's Day 'green' attire, the medicine 'just in case', the special blankie, the toys, the books, the potty...and so on.
Then I had to timetable the birthday parties (present and card in bag 5), cinema outings, (chocolate bars in bag 3) swimming classes,(jammies packed and already in) and all the related dropoffs and pickups. I was exhausted by the time I'd done it all and I hadn't even packed a thing for myself yet!

I do tend to get a bit, shall we say, stressed before I go away. It happens every time - I start to panic about the children. Will they sleep? (They did!) Will they feel settled? (They were!) Will they behave themselves? (They did...I think!) Will Luke poo in his pants? (He did!) Then I convince myself that actually it's all far too much trouble and upheaval for everyone concerned, and what were we thinking, and let's just call it off, sure I wouldn't enjoy it anyway with all the worrying.
At that point, Loverboy said sternly (in quite a rather masterful sort off way if you must know) ' Look, we're going! You always do this and then its grand. You'll be grand, they'll be grand, so stop worrying.... And make sure you pack plenty of wine.'  So I did...and he was right...he isn't always always, mind.. ..but he was this time.

Fabulous dahling!

The next morning when we were lying in bed in the hotel room to die for, lazily pondering whether to mosy down to breakfast or just stay put, we heard the couple, in the adjoining room to us, ring home to THEIR children. We could honestly hear every word, which in retrospect was slightly worrying, but on the plus side it meant we could indulge in an extended session of eariwigging.

After a minute or two Loverboy, ear cocked, whispered confidently "They're Culchies....from the North."
I sniggered, "What is this? 'Game of Thrones? And anyway, pot, kettle, black! Who are you to be calling anyone a culchie?"
'No no!' says he sagely.  'Proper Culchies.  Back o' beyond like, Tyrone, I'd say.'

So now we're snorting and laughing under the covers, but the conversation next door was just getting started.
'Hello Matthew?  It's Mammy! Who's Mammy's boy? Who's Mammy's big man? Did you have a big sleep? Who's Mammy's boy? Hello! Hello! I'm blowing you kisses! Blow your Mammy a kiss too.Yes, put your sister on. Hello, Sarah, its Mammy. How's Mammy's big girl?  Hello! Hello!....etc etc  Are you behaving yourself ? Doing as you're told? Here's your daddy now. He wants to talk to you too. I love you. Love you too. I love you more. No you...etc etc.....Put your Auntie on. What's the state of the house like? Don't forget they've that party at 3.. And make sure they put on their hats and scarves, it's freezing out there....etc etc'

To be fair,  I nodded and smiled in recognition for a while here and there,  but after a good ten minutes of it, we got bored and headed to breakfast. But nearly a full hour later, we came back up and weren't they still at it!?  Only by now she's put them both on speaker and was on a roll, tunelessly crooning their favourite(?) songs down the phone. At this point, I can only surmise that 'Daddy' had slipped into a coma.

Check out those shoes!

Now, on the one hand, I completely understand that it's difficult to stop thinking and worrying about your children when you're away from them, but on the other, what a waste of time for everyone concerned....for them, the kids and their Auntie! 

I would guess that they probably don't get away too often on their own, and yet here they were squandering that precious time, their opportunity to connect as a couple, the chance to not just be 'mummy and daddy' for a  while. Never mind the price of the weekend and the sacrilege of missing a 3 course breakfast!

It actually made me quite sad for them ..and more determined to enjoy OUR time away. Because here's the thing -  having time away as a couple really makes me appreciate the busy day to day of family life more fully...and vice versa. We too rang home for a status report, but when we heard all was well, we relaxed and enjoyed the luxury of 'just us two'....because it would be 'just us seven' soon enough.

And it was - by Sunday night I was back to earth with a bump, 5 loads of laundry and bath night to navigate, but somehow it was easier with freshly charged batteries and a rediscovered mojo...I'll let you know how long THAT lasts. Xxx

PS Please, take a moment and vote for me in the Family Life Category of the MAD Blog awards before 26th March- I'd be so grateful xx

THAT Lily Charmed Necklace - A Review

When it comes to jewellry, my working hypothesis is 'the bigger the better.' I love big, 'in your face' statement pieces- necklaces that jingle when you walk, knuckle duster rings in all colours, chunky studded bracelets-that's the kind of adornment that floats my boat! If  you ever look at a piece of jewellry and think 'that's just waaaaay too much',  then rest assured, I'd probably love it.

Who said it had to be true??

Which is why I surprised myself by falling for the gorgeous, delicately detailed Lily Charmed necklaces and bracelets. I mean, this is proper, ladylike, sterling silver jewellry...and I love it!
On their website, you choose one of theirs, or design your own perfect piece for a particular person or occasion, then you get to personalise the message and the packaging- so much more thoughtful than just buying off the shelf!
 Best of all, they won't break the bank, ranging from £20-£35, with free (and fast!) UK delivery. Sure you couldn't beat it with a big stick!
 Not wishing to rub your nose in it, (I SO do), I chose this beautiful crown necklace to review and it arrived beautifully personalized and packaged, in loads of time for  Mother's Day.

A bit too 'carry on' ?

Is that a tear?

Which now I think about it, completely lets Loverboy off the hook, because I'm simply going to give it to him...to give to the kids...to give it to me next Sunday for Mother's Day. (That'll be before I get cracking on dinner for 19!). And just between you and me, I've even been practicing my 'surprised' face in anticipation...Work it baby!