I am moving house, blog house. Just dropping the wordpress bit and the At bit and now I am just The Clothesline.ie
If you follow me on wordpress, I think my posts will still appear on your reader but if you want them emailed ( and I don’t blame you if you don’t) you will need to come on over and subscribe over there/here, the new house.
Otherwise things should be as normal, I think………….
I have mentioned before about my love of Tiger Stores. It is a love that continues to grow as time goes on. On Tuesday evening I went along to have a preview evening in the new store that is now in Blanchardstown Centre, Dublin 15. This is Tiger’s 17th store to open in Ireland. There were some nice treats and a lovely goodie bag and all the usual delights one discovers in a Tiger Store.
My favourite ever Tiger Store purchase was my Jesus on a pen, which I bought before Christmas last year.I have Our Lady too and both pens have brought me immense joy since coming into my life. Here’s my thoughts on the pen’s from a previous post :
I bought them to write my Christmas cards with. I didn’t get around to writing my Christmas cards but I lovingly write lists and notes and Jesus and Our Lady pen usage makes me happy. However, I have learnt, they are probably best used at home. I was in the tax office a couple of weeks ago. Which resembled the 7th circle of hell, the queuing system nearly made me burst a blood vessel in my eyes from rolling them so hard. Anyway whilst in the queue a man walked up to the woman behind me and asked could he borrow her pen and she refused and told him it was her pen. I was aghast and also wildly entertained as I had been queuing for a while. He explained he just needed to sign a form and she clutched her , I might add cheapo bic biro, and hollered “NO It’s my pen”. This woman was being really fucking weird about her pen. I don’t know if she was just rude, didn’t like the man or just really loved her pen but she wasn’t handing it over. The man looked mortified. I decided to step in and save the day. “I have a pen” I roared giving the bic pen owner a filthy look.
Now I carry many pens in my bag at all times but I was in the never-ending hell queue carrying a wiggling baby so instead of whipping out a normal pen, Jesus came out. I saw it in my hand and realised it was the wrong pen and this wasn’t the time to bring Jesus to the party but it was too late. I had made such a production of offering a pen, I had to hand it over. The man looked horrified by Jesus on a pen, the women with her crap bic biro looked more horrified and I ended up looking like the weirdo. Anyway, bar that blip, the pens continue to bring me a huge amount of happiness.
Every time I have been in a Tiger Store since, I have looked for them and have been disappointed. This all changed on Tuesday, for there lying in the new Blanchardstown store was a pile of Jesus and Mary Pens……….Hallelujah. I knew when I saw them, I needed to share this joy, it was kind of epiphany if you will so I have two to giveaway. Who wants them?
Enter below and you too could be the very lucky owner of both Jesus and his mother, Mary, on a pen. We will have a Hallelujah together?
ACTUAL PENS THAT WILL BE WINGING THEIR WAY TO THE WINNER ON MONDAY………..EXCITING!
To enter all you need to do is comment below or my Facebook page. The winner will be chosen randomly on Sunday. You NEED these pens in your life .Good luck.
We had a slow start to our day, lazy morning, tired children, exhausted parents. Staying on the couch for the day was tempting but we found energy to move from couch to car and headed into town to the Laya Healthcare City Spectacular.
We have gone in to see it on other years and always enjoyed it, in the past we have always gone in early to try to avoid the huge crowds, today we didn’t leave home till lunchtime and I was somewhat reluctant at the prospect of crowds of people. I am so glad we did. This year is their 10th anniversary and its bigger and better than ever. If you are in Dublin, go tomorrow, it is so worth the visit and next weekend they are in Cork.
The gods were shining down on us and we got into town in no time and then achieved the holy grail of free parking on a Saturday afternoon in Dublin 2. Two minutes walk from Merrion Square. FIST PUMP.
Free Parking WIN
All roads surrounding Merrion Sq are blocked off to traffic so the kids were free to safely roam around, it was busy but there was so much to see and do that nowhere was particularly overcrowded. There are over 200 workshops, performances and activities over the course of the weekend so there is a lot going on. We opted not to take a timetable (which you can view online if you are the planning type) and just wandered around. The street performers all had big crowds but the kids were able to scoot through and have a look while we hung back with the buggy.
There were loads of activities in the park itself, games, food stalls, music.
The baby was in her element in the toddler music section, 30 or so babies and toddlers all playing instruments at the same time is quite honestly the ugliest sound you will ever hear but god they were all happy out making the hideous noise. We had to prize the xylophone from her death grip when the noise got too much.
There was a really nice relaxed atmosphere to the day and despite the grey skies, it didn’t rain.
All was going well, then the hunger struck. The husband and I were getting that grumpiness that can only come from being starving. Although there was a huge amount of food stalls the logistics of feeding six from a food stall and eating in the park requires preparation and we weren’t prepared. We considered walking down to Grafton St and then we decided we deserved good food.
FXB’s of Pembroke Street has always been a dining favourite but never somewhere I would have considered visiting with kids, I didn’t even know if kids would be welcome but we took a reconnaissance mission as it was so close by and turns out it’s really family friendly. Pricier than our normal choices for family lunch but a rare treat.
The STEAK WAS AMAZING and the staff didn’t freak out when they saw us walk in with our gazillions of kids. Early bird of three courses for €23.99 and a kid’s meal of fillet steak, chips and gravy for €10 was reasonable as the food was so good and the staff were really accommodating of the numerous requests that come when eating out with four kids, would highly recommend for a family lunch.
That’s the kids meal on the bottom. Trust me we don’t usually buy the five year fillet steak, a very rare treat.
Once we had eaten we obviously wanted to dump the kids and go and sit in a beer garden (not really…………) that wasn’t an option, though so we headed back down to the festival. It was closer to 5pm now and the crowds had dispersed a bit. The husband and the older kids went off to watch to The Space Cowboy act which they loved and myself and the five-year old went off to get her face painted.
We also visited the farm section and got to brush a sheep ( spot the Dub’s, this was wildly exciting). The five year old had the “best day ever” free bubbles, free Cheerios, free tattoos and butterfly face paint, this is the stuff of five-year old’s dreams.
If you are in Dublin you should definitely head into City Spectacular tomorrow, it’s all free and there is so much to see or if in Cork do go next weekend, would highly recommend.
The photo’s don’t show the boy refusing to eat in the nice restaurant and us having to buy him a €3 hot dog or me irritating the husband or an over exhausted child complaining about something or other but sure you can paint over most of this with an Instagram filter right? All in all though it was a pretty lovely day out.
Last week, I got the usual envelope full of promotional stuff from my local supermarket. Instead of the usual spend 100 get a 10 euro off voucher there was instead a voucher for free chocolate cake if you spend €20. Well the eldest child was just thrilled with this offer.
So we were shopping last weekend, we asked as per the instructions about the cake at the bakery and we were told we could collect it the check out. Grand. We shopped, we got to the checkout ,the cakes were all gone. They told us to come back on Tuesday. This would have been fine until we noticed a man who had been queuing behind us at the bakery holding his free cake smugly. He was also behind us in the checkout queue. Further proof that if he had a cake we should have a cake. The 9-year-old was infuriated. There was many exclamations about the unfairness of the situation and some filthy looks were thrown at the man who was grasping his cake in his hands. Some would berate their child for such behaviour however, queue skipping and the unjustness of it is up there on my pet hate list. I understood her anger. It was justified behaviour.
As we were waiting to pay, I could hear mumblings from other shoppers about the free cake. We were not the only ones left disappointed. I then overheard a man ask about the free cake but the assistant told him it was only for those who had a voucher. The man shuffled off embarrassed and cakeless and our own cakeless status didn’t seem so bad for at least we had the promise of a cake on Tuesday .
Turns out that was a fat lie. We went to get our cake on Tuesday, there was none. They told us to come back the next day. The free chocolate cake was proving popular. As we walked away from the bakery counter another shopper said to me “this is the third day I have tried to collect mine and still no luck” I gave her a sympathetic look and we went our separate ways. Every time I was in the supermarket this week, I overheard shoppers mentioning the free cake. People are MAD for free cakes.
The next day, there was still no cakes. The marketing geniuses of Super Valu were winning though. By this stage I had spent a significant amount of time waiting at the bakery counter. I can now tell you the selection of cakes available and their prices. This new bakery section has quite a French feel and some of the cakes look fairly incredible. Myself and the 9-year-old were told to come back on Friday and again we walked away, cakeless and also quite aware of my current body weight, standing begging for a free chocolate cake on three separate occasions will do that to a person.
This morning, the husband was dropping the kids to camp. Its cake day, the 9-year-old told me, I didn’t need reminding. Herself and the husband dropped the other two and went to the supermarket.FINALLY, the free cakes were in stock. The 9-year-old arrived home carrying the cake as carefully as one would carry a precious jewel. At last. After four attempts, the free (at this stage we had has spent about 3k on supermarket purchases this week alone) cake was ours.
Well played, Super Valu, Well played.
Also, I don’t even like chocolate cake.
Yesterday, day one of the school holidays. Nice day, relaxed enough. All fine. I went upstairs yesterday evening and the boy’s room was thrashed. Himself and his sister had been up there playing. There is always a price to be paid for a half hour of quiet time.
There was lots of ” I have NO idea how this happened” and head shaking from both the seven and five year olds when asked how the room had ended up like it was- mattress off the bed, duvet in a ball, books scattered everywhere etc.
Nothing more was said except, clean it up, there was no argument. It was day one. We were all relaxed and happy.
We sat down to dinner and afterwards the husband picked up his Ipad. His work Ipad. The boy child in particular has taken a shine to it.
As he was scrolling through he found 15 or so new videos. Not only had they thrashed the room they had filmed themselves doing it and with commentary. “This is my sister- full name- about to attempt a ginormous tumble of the recently destroyed bed, all covers are on the floor for her to roll onto” or words to similar effect and they took it in turns to film each other thrashing the room and doing gymnastics.
Next step, they filmed themselves cursing. I despair. The stupidity. Filmed themselves cursing on their fathers device, obviously they were going to be caught.
Wildly entertaining though. I mean one of them loves to spell out the word f-u-c-k-e-r-s and thinks if you spell it, it doesn’t count as cursing but to hear the little voice say it with pure determination and defiance when not in the ear shot of an adult was particularly funny. I know, I am an awful parent.
Seriously though, the stupidity, if you are going to carry out some vandalism of your bedroom and swear like a trooper, don’t film yourself doing so. Years ago, they drew on the walls and signed their names underneath but I assumed as they got older they would become better at covering their tracks, clearly not yet.
Their faces though when they saw us watching their videos……….priceless.
My five and half year old is seriously competent. Anything her older brother and sister can do she makes a good effort at doing and most times she succeed and sometimes she does it better than they do.
She is just finishing her first year of school. She has grown up a lot, especially in the last few months. Before she demanded cuddles, stories and songs before she would sleep, more often than not of late, she takes herself off to bed at night time , when I go up to check on her, she is usually asleep, tucked in neatly, teddy in arms.
A couple of months ago she stopped sharing a room with her older sister and for now has the room to herself, its the cleanest bedroom in the house.
A couple of days ago, a vile bug, struck the house. It hit her out of nowhere, she looked awful and was lying on the couch. She informed me she was going to be sick, walked to the bathroom, fixed her hair out of her face and was sick. Competently.
I was faffing around, trying to fix her. She was calm and told me she would go and lie down. Sometimes she looks like the adult and me the five-year old. So we went to bed and we lay down. I was rubbing her hair and holding her hand and despite her being unwell it was actually really nice. It felt like weeks since we had done this ,just the two of us. She was curled up kind of on my lap and it was like she was a toddler again.
She was worn out and still looked pretty unwell. I was trying to make her better.
I started to sing to her. She didn’t like the song, so I suggested all my back catalogue of lullabies . You Are My Sunshine, Dream A Little Dream , all rejected.
“Sing All About The Bass” she said.
“Ah no, will I sing, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, maybe? Said I, hopefully.
“All. About. That. Bass. Please. Now. Go . On”– she said like some tiny five year old version of Simon Cowell.
She was sick. I was trying to make her happy. So off I went.
I’m bringing booty back……
She stopped me.
“Sing from the start Mammy”.
Oh.
And so I did and when I got stuck with the words, which surprisingly I did considering how many times I have heard this song, this year, she prompted me.
About half way through she suggested I sing more like Meghan Trainor than myself. It was more a Stars In Your Eyes than X Factor performance she was looking for.
I realise it’s not the most appropriate of songs to sing to your child, I realised this more as I was singing along without it playing in the background. Nonetheless I continued. It’s a long enough song, thankfully nobody else heard my rendition or saw my actions, if you are going to do something, do it properly and all that……..
Then I finished “Not too bad, Mammy “and she fell asleep.
She hasn’t asked for a repeat performance and she is fully recovered now.
One of my favourite things about this time of year, is going through the things the kids bring home from school. I have gotten more ruthless since the days of keeping every scribble from the precious first-born but their school copies are always keepers.
Did you know imagination copies are a thing? Amidst the drawings and all the colour, I am not going to lie, there is some pretty weird shit in there too. Not worrying weird just, Jesus my child is quite strange, weird. Stuff that wouldn’t be out-of-place after taking a hallucinogenic – Cakes that talk to each other, Batman having his injuries healed by dark arts potions, kidnappings, mysterious parks , investigations and how to ” google things up” – arm chair investigate work if you will rather than Famous Five style.
Then there are the story copies . Again, amidst the poems about rainbows and the tales of pancakes and playgrounds, there is some darkness. This one was my favourite.
The wood cutter is twice the size of the mother, yet she throws that killer punch regardless.
I LOVE IT. The moms are bad ass. One mother provides the facial punching to scare the wood-cutter away and the next mother just straight out murders him.
Of course reading the poems and hand prints about growing up and how much they love you are lovely and bring a tear but sometimes you need something new. Like a mama protecting her kids from a potential child murdering wood-cutter with violence.
Proud.
Make-up, I know very little about it however fellow blogger Sinead at Bumbles of Rice came up with an idea of sharing how to look human on three hours sleep and I said I would join in, so here we go:
I regularly survive on three hours sleep. Big sunglasses and copious amounts of strong coffee are how I survive. My jittery actions from the coffee hopefully distracts from the exhausted greyness of my face. At the minute I rarely have occasion for lots of make up and even when I do, it is hit or miss how my make up looks. I put it on, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. It’s similar to the way I never learnt how to cook a roast dinner, nobody ever thought me to apply makeup or the importance of skin care. And speaking of that, what is with teenagers these days? They all have immaculate make-up, there is no badly applied awful colours on their faces, they all look amazing and no acne. I, however, at the grand age of 36 and a half have developed a rake of hormonal occasional spots on my chin. It seems unfair really. I went through all this twenty years ago. I digress, make up………..
Firstly I am a sucker for the “spend a shit load of money, get a free gift” promotions. So the majority of my non daily wear make up comes from these or from christmas gifts. I have one palette of eye shadows I received as a gift about four years ago, which I use when I feel the need to see if I can apply eye shadow ( I can’t). I am looking for a good primer though any and all recommendations appreciated.
Lipstick- I can’t wear it. When I apply lipstick, I look like I should be doing porn. It’s not a good look. So I use vaseline or if I am feeling particularly wild, lip gloss I received as free gift, see above.
After years of having thick dark brows, one of them has started to develop a bald spot. It’s the start of eyebrow ageing. I will take recommendations for brow products too please.
I like BB creams. I find CC ones too heavy. My favourite one is this one from Garnier. Its cheap and cheerful, the colour is natural and its non sticky.
Foundation I use one of these. If using the MAC one I mix it with bb cream as I think it’s quite dry. The Estee Lauder Double Wear lasts for hours.
And I am a fan of this also for help in looking less haggard and more glowy.
I am a mascara whore. I have no brand loyalty and am again a sucker for advertising when it comes to mascara. I currently have about 12 in use. This is my current favourite ,Benefit- they’re Real although it has a tendency to be a bit clumpy and requires careful application but when non clumpy it’s rather nice.
See, I told you I know f**k all about make up. So instead I am going to recommend some skincare products. As I am free-falling towards 40, I finally realised I need to take care of my skin properly. These are the products I am currently love. If my skin looks good, make up looks better on me all with the long-term goal of achieving dewy,glowing skin lending the impression I have all my of life under control.
Despite my initial derision I have become an advocate of the double cleanse. First the grime/make up is removed with some cheapo micellar water. Garnier do a big bottle for 4.50 you can get in Penneys or Boots have a nicer one in their botanical range which is cheap as chips too. 
Then this.
Everyone needs this in their life. Nia’s Calendula and Orange Blossom Cleansing Balm. It is sensational. Nia is Irish owned and chemical free and as soon as I run out of this and need to order more, I am buying their restoring moisturizer too. So the balm. It’s thick and smells like heaven. When I use it the smell calms me and I feel like I am in a spa, for that twenty-second feeling twice a day, its worth it alone. It comes with a spatula, you apply it, massage it in, then you use the fancy clothes it comes with to sweep the product off your face. Seriously, amazing. I have really dry skin and since using this my skin is so much more hydrated, I don’t even need too much moisturizer. Buy it.
This is my second wonder product. Nip +Fab No Needle Fix Serum. A friend recommended a couple of months ago and it is another thing everyone needs in their life.
Again it is an additional product like the double cleanse but worth it. You apply before moisturizer. Its light and I can feel my skin tightening a bit after application. My skin , particularly my cheeks, look and feels brilliant after using this for three months. It’s not an overnight change but it has definitely helped make my skin appear smoother. You can buy it online from Boots, I haven’t seen it in store. It is currently half price, rather typically, as I bought a new bottle last week. Buy it too.
I have also started using an exfoliation mask weekly but have yet to find one I really like. Hit me with a good recommendation and me and my soon to be youthful looking skin will love you long time.
With the addition of these two loves into my life, my obsession with moisturizer has eased. I have no real preference for a day time one once it has an SPF and is light. Night time, I am a fan of Elizabeth Arden creams-Visible Difference and 8 Hour and regardless of the price if is says rehydrating or nourishing on the box, I will probably buy it. I am currently using samples from Kiehls with a view to purchasing but the Nia mositurising products are my next buy. I use 8 hour Cream once a week and occasionally I burst an evening primrose tablet, mix it with lanolin ( yes the cream for sore nipples) and smear it all over my face before I get into bed. It’s great if skin is very dry, really.
So there you have it. More questions than answers from a person who is never going to be a beauty blogger, who can’t apply make up properly but who has the cheeks of at least a 32-year-old. You can read all the other posts and actually learn something useful here and if you have a product that works miracles and I need to have it please recommend it below.
Wednesday evening. The sun was shining, I was making dinner, the kids were out playing. All was normal in suburbia. Then I saw one child walking towards house sobbing and other children flapping around aghast and over excited. I heard, the man in the car, he had photographs, he is ringing the Garda. Snippets of the drama but not the full story. One child sobbing so hard he couldn’t talk properly, lines of cleanliness on his dirty face where the tears had washed away the muck.
We managed to establish some of the story. We live opposite a green area, at the end of the green there are bushes and trees and behind them leads to back gardens of other houses. The child and his friend had been down there and one of the residents saw them, gave out to them, got in his car, drove around, gave out to them again, told them he had their photograph and he would go to the police if it ever happened again. There were clearly gaps in this story. The husband set off to find the man. I tried to comfort the boy. After twenty minutes the sobbing subsided. More detail of what happened came out in small snippets. The child was terrified the Garda were about to rock up at the door. Then more information came out.Then the husband arrived back with the complete story.
The child had slipped through a gate, into a garden, scaled a fence with the aid of a makeshift ladder of some logs and climbed onto a roof of a garden shed. Whilst standing, no doubt triumphantly on the shed, the owner saw him, came out and let a roar. No doubt the child got a fright and he scampered. Sadly, the tale does not end here. The man came out and locked up the gate at the back of the house. This lock was no match for the child’s friend who went back into the garden and again was seen by the man. He is not my child so I wont tell the full story but seriously I don’t think these two lads would make it as master criminals. At this stage, the man came around in his car to tell them he had their photograph and he would go to the police if it happened again. The man had not photographed anybody nor was he going to the police, he was just trying to ensure this wouldn’t happen again. The roof my child was standing on after breaking into a garden was quite high at its peak. High enough that if one fell from that height, there could be a serious injury. I thought playing on the flat green outside our house in a quiet cul-de-sac was a safe place to play on a summer’s evening.
The husband told me all this and I went from my poor scared little boy to HE DID WHAT? in about 7 seconds. We sat down, we got the whole story from him, we went through all the what if’s, there were many sorry’s, lengthy explanations and more reassurances that the Gardai were not coming to arrest him.
We explained to the child there would be no going outside to play for a while nor would there be ipads or treats. We explained how this could never ever happen again. We went around in a circle of what ifs. Then we got in the car and drove to the mans house. I held the boy’s hand. He was just about holding it together. The man came out, a lovely man, elderly. He told me why he had done what he had done and how high the shed was on his side of the garden. The boy held it together and in a wobbly voice, whilst gripping my hand, he apologised in great detail. He managed not to cry. The man looked like he might cry and then they shook hands and I had to battle the tears. Sake.
The punishment is ongoing, its less than what you would get for breaking and entering and being an accessory to other crimes in a court as it is his first offence and he is a small child. His sisters went off on a sleepover yesterday and he stayed here. He hasn’t seen an ipad screen nor has he stepped foot on the green. I think he has gotten over the fright and I would like to hope that this is the end to his criminal activity. Lesson learned, hopefully.
The sunset over the scene of the crime as I don’t have a photograph of his rap sheet.
In June of times gone past, I would enjoy the milder weather and maybe buy some new clothes and shoes for the summer with my disposable income or go on holiday again using my disposable income. June was never a stressful month. It was pleasant. No longer though, when you have children of school going age, June is exhausting, long, bank account draining and shameful at times.
In June I am:
Drowning in envelopes and notes for requests for money for back to school. Back to school now starts in early Summer maybe even April.
My children are going to school in uniforms that have been washed too many times yet the paint/glue/ food stains remain. Jumper sleeves are shredded. One child’s school trousers are above his ankles. Capri length for the summer. Children going to school looking like vagabonds.
Children refuse to go to bed at night because it’s too bright. Just all out refusal. This makes them look pale with dark bags under eyes to enhance appearance of vagabond appearance.
Kids playing outside instead of going to bed. Dirt on hands that doesn’t wash off similar to dirt on too small uniforms. To complete look of peasant children.
As well as back to school costs of 10k an activity the children do on Saturdays demands full fees be paid in full for next term which doesn’t start for three months. More extreme costs.
A glimpse of sunshine makes me determined to just book a holiday. Despite much searching, costs for a week in costa del wherever costs 10k in July or August. If had been organised and taken children from school could get a villa in Seychelles in June for same price as crappy week in two star accommodation in peak times. Once pile of school money envelopes are dealt with negotiations start for which camps can be done. One child has been waiting to do summer camps all her small life and is a sucker for advertising and wants to do all the camps. Considers selling a kidney.
School lunches. We are all over them now. Now school lunch boxes contain piles of fruit and veg and cheese grabbed from fridge and dumped into lunch boxes. Have considered pouring dry cereal straight from box into lunchbox but have refrained so far. Maybe next week.
Pencil cases are empty and/or lost. Evenings are spent searching under couch for a spare pencil so homework can be completed.
Sun comes out but have forgotten to get summer ready. Body still thinks it is winter. Blue coloured stubbly legs remain coated in jeans. Arms do strange chubby recoiling trick when they see the light. They will readjust .
Just when think all books lists, contributions have been paid, texts for group present for all the teachers. Consider opting out and making crafty unique homemade present. Realise cant craft anything for shit. Find more money.
Double check holiday in July or August will still cost 250k because really need a break. Then realise will spend entire holiday thinking about how much money holiday has cost and feel immense pressure to have best time ever. May not be that relaxing.
Makes great plans to be more prepared for next year and transform self into a person who budgets and is good with money.
Really really looks forward to two months of no school lunches. No dropping and collecting from all the activities. Children can stay up late, stay outside and have dirty hands and dirty necks and dirty suntans which will mask their paleness from exhaustion from refusing to sleep. There will be no need to search for pencils. Life will be much better in July and maybe will find the gazillion euro needed for a holiday or maybe will just have lovely summer at home.
Three more weeks.
The Clothesline 