HAIRS THE WAY TO DO IT

I have shoulder length hair as do my four daughters. My eldest daughter who's 15 doesnt need me to look after her hair any longer. She gets me to trim it now and then but that's about all. Not so the other three. All the children in their school MUST have their hair tied up to stop NITS passing from one to the other.

This morning 10 minutes before we left for school Sarah handed me a small notebook with a detailed sketch of a rather complicated hairstyle involving several pony tails, plaits and divisions of partings all of which had to be followed to the exact instructions. Including a request for a photograph of the completed work of art so it could be inspected at close quarters, graded and passed.

So successful was the project that Audrey thought it worth flinging herself onto the hardwood floor and beating it with her fists in order to demonstrate how unhappy she was that there was no time left to do hers and she was stuck with a 'boring old pony tail'

SMALL MEN CAN TELL BIG LIES

Yesterday morning my phone rang. It was the 'Small Man'. My car was ready. Could I be ready for him to pick me up in four minutes and he would drive me to my car? You bet.

Five minutes later I was sitting beside the Small Man in his silver slk sports Merc driving down the old coast road. Eventually we pulled into a narrow lane way and past two bungalows before coming to a stop. Where the hell was I?
"Wait here, there are two big guard dogs you definitely DON'T want to meet"
He got my car and parked it behind his. He opened the car door to let me out of his car all the while looking over his shoulder for those vicious dogs who might tear us up or the invoice that he held in his hand.
'There, its all ready for you" he said handing me the car keys. He opened the invoice and my eyes immediately shot to the bottom line. €125.
'That'll be €250. €125 parts and €100 labour", he said all the while looking over my shoulder in a concerned manner as he spoke. I turned expecting to see two vicious dogs ready to devour me.
Nothing.
'WHAT' I spluttered, 'I thought you said the part was only €10'
'Yea, well, he thought he had the part in his garage but he didn't and so he had to order it and have it express delivered for you' he replied still watching over my shoulder.
F***K the dogs, I could've bitten him myself at that stage.
He folded the invoice and put it in his pocked.
I took the keys but I would've rather have grabbed him by the goulies.
When I got home I texted him.
Send me the bill with VAT number included.
The small man's a liar and I'm naive.
But I have my car back.
To celebrate and since I've been starved of retail therapy I drove straight to Heatons and bought two of these light shades for the landing upstairs.

BIG GIFTS COME IN SMALL PARCELS

I was so fed up with the Garage who was handling my broken down car especially when I called them after my disasterous trip back from Limerick and the man who owned the garage apologised for forgetting to call me and tell me that he couldnt figure out what was wrong with it. I would have driven up and rammed into the front of his shop if I could've got the car going.
On Monday I called the man at the garage where I originally bought my car and explained the situation. I was having severe retail withdrawl symptoms and my feet stumps were bleeding from all the walking I had to do.

Yesterday a small man arrived at my house and told me that the problem with my car had something to do with a broken part of the crank shaft. It will be fixed today. I felt an uncontrolable urge to grab that small man by his shoulders and plant kisses all over his face especially when he told me that the part would only cost about €10.

THE WEEKEND

On Saturday Audrey, 5 years old, asked me if she could have some extra money for doing jobs around the house. She tidied up some things in the kitchen and I gave her about 60c because she doesn't understand the value of money. In fact she would prefer three 20c coins to one €2 coin.
She looked at the money I gave her and rummaged around in her jeans pocket producing a €1 coin I had given her yesterday for her pocket money.
'See that' she said proffering the coin in her outstretched hand
'I NEED SEVEN OF THESE TO BUY A CAR LIKE THE ONE LARA BOUGHT'
'Well, you'll have to save up your pocket money and all the other money I give you for those little jobs you do for me if you want to buy that toy car' I explained nicely.
'I NEED SEVEN OF THESE, YOU'RE NOT UNDERSTANDING MY LANGUAGE, I SAID ......I NEED........ S E V E N. I can pick that other stuff you gave me up off the ground when we walk to school........people THROW IT AWAY'

I guess she understands now.

The Husband has been off cigarettes for over a month now. I told him to put the money aside that he would've been spending on cigarettes and buy something nice for himself. He bought a new jacket. I call it his smoking jacket.




We had a quiet weekend which gave us time to relax after last weekend in Limerick



On Saturday The Husband hung some paintings around the house and we brought the three younger kids up to the local GAA club - Gaelic Athletics Association. We signed them all up for Gaelic Football and sprinted back to the car before they realised we'd enrolled them in a sport that requires gum shields. After we picked them up we drove to the video shop to get a couple of videos for that night. Sitting on the ground outside the shop was a homeless man begging for money.
"Oh look'" said Audrey. "That mans got a jacket just like Dads"
and he did
'Maybe he's given up cigarettes too".
'Hmmmm' said The Husband

BILLY JOE ARMSTRONG AND THE EDGE

I painted this for my daughter, Rachel who's 15 years old. Its a large painting and she will not let me sell it unless its to 'The Man Himself or it's an offer that cannot be refused and I repaint it'.
A couple of weeks ago she was walking down Temple Bar in Dublin and she thought she saw a guy that looked awfully like 'The Edge' from U2. She walked on to catch up with her friends and then she though
'If it IS him, I might never again get a chance to meet him'
So she turned back and ran to where she last saw the guy and yes, on closer inspection she could see that it was 'The Edge'
'Are you the Edge?' she asked shyly.
He laughed 'I am, hat, beard' he said pointing to his chin.
'You just did a song with Greenday recently. Can you tell me what Billy Joe Armstrongs' like?' she said
'He's a really lovely guy' he replied
'Really'
'Yea, REALLY'
'Oh thanks' she said 'And by the way, my dad loves you guys'
'I hate it when people say that!' laughed 'The Edge.'

OK, DONT GET YOUR KNICKERS IN A TWIST

At 9am I said, "OK Girls, get your coats, time to walk to school".
Sarah asks me "Is it Friday?"
Friday is Sweets Day.
"No honey, tomorrow's Friday. You can get some sweets tomorrow"
"But everyone in my class gets sweets" she blubbers
"No they don't"
Tears well up in her eyes.
"YES THEY DO."
Snots run down from her nose
A complete breakdown ensues.

Now hold on a minute I'm thinking, there's something more here.

"Is someone bothering you in school, anyone annoying you love?"
Snots and tears have mingled by now.
"YES" she says looking almost relieved.
"Who is it love?"
'Its Megan, everyday in the playground she pushes me to the ground"
"You mean Big Megan or Small Megan"
"FAT MEGAN"
"OK" now I understand.

"Well you're lucky you're not me" I say seriously.
"When I was your age there was a group of girls who used to pull down
my knickers in the playground EVERY DAY and I had to remember to
ALWAYS wear clean knickers to school"

Sarah laughs.

"Audrey, do you see Megan pushing Sarah in the playground?"
"Yep."
"Don't you say anything to her?"
"Nope"

"Don't worry Hun, I'll have a word in her shell- like."
Sarah skips down the hall to school and it isn't even Friday.

who said it's a MOSQUITO net?

Yesterday and today I cleaned the house and did all the laundry that had accumulated after the weekend away.



I hung this net that I bought in Avoca Handweavers over the bed Sarah and Audrey share and sifted through the toys and books, discarding anything broken or torn.













After I had finished I shut the door gently behind me knowing that one day it too would look something like this.

SAINT PATRICKS WEEKEND.

My car engine died three times on the way to Limerick. The third time being two minutes from my sisters house. We laughed with relief as the car free wheeled down the road and into the driveway of her house. We ate sandwiches and drank tea and caught up on the gossip while the kids played "Lets Thrash The House". I noticed my sister had a large plant in the corner of her kitchen and one on the counter the exact same as mine. I was more surprised to find that we were both wearing the exact same pair of jeans but then we are sisters and people have often remarked on how similar we look and how hard it is to tell us apart when speaking to us on the telephone. And I would agree. But there is one thing different about us. She owns this.



While we live here



We stayed in her hotel which is fabulous. Everything, from the food, to the rooms, to the staff. The barman won "Barman of the Year" and the Chefs cooking was out of this world. What more could you ask for.

We went to the Parade on Saturday and arrived 45 minutes early to ensure a good viewing spot up front for the kids. A couple of times during the actual parade we had to defend our position by bashing our unberellas hard on the heads of over eager parents, who, having just arrived, wanted pole position for their children.

























































After visiting Bunratty Castle and a delicious lunch we said our goodbyes and left our kind host and hostess with much regret and dread of a life without room service. We headed for the motorway.

Every time the car engine heated up even the tiniest bit past the centre mark on the thermostat the revs dropped and the engine died along with our hopes of ever making it home. We limped along the motorway, sweating, with the heater on full blast to divert the heat from the engine and arrived at my friend S's house where we dropped Rachel off to stay with her son Liberty Spike and rehydrate from the Sahara like winds and seven pit stops we had endured along the way. After wine, water and a wait of a couple of hours in their good company we headed for round two, only stopping twice before pulling into our driveway. Home at last.

Things I have learnt this weekend.

Just because your husband is an engineer doesn't mean you have to believe him when he says he has "fixed" the car.

I want an Hotel, preferably one in the same colour as my sisters.

Driving 170km, in the front seat of a car, with the heater on full blast makes you look sunburnt.

A two and a half hour journey can, on occasion, take eight hours

When you pull into your driveway after a stressful journey and find a newly deceased pigeon lying there, this is an omen.

When another child tries to rob your childs spot at the Paddys Day Parade you ARE allowed to move them gently out of the way with your elbow.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS

FROM BISTROS TO HOTELS

I went for lunch with three friends yesterday in a nice Italian Bistro close by. We're all blow ins to this one street town and the talk soon turned to house prices, schools and clever ways to off load the kids for an afternoon. Mothers, Fathers, getting older, renting out aston martins for 40th birthday weekends, fathers-in-law being ex British ministers of defence and feeling paranoid because you're Irish and he might be checking up on you, commuting, moving house because of the commuting, opening a gallery and having to close it because it was unprofitable, places we've all lived in in the UK, places we've travelled to around the world and taking calls from the school to say one of the kids is vomiting. Come get her.

After lunch I made dinner and drew a map of Ireland to try and make Audrey understand that the drive to Limerick, where we're going to spend St Patricks weekend, does not require a Ryan Air Flight return trip around the world and that just because it's on the opposite coast to us doesn't mean we can swim a circuit of Ireland with our suitcases strapped to Daddy's back.





My younger sister and her husband have bought an hotel, as you do, and that's where we're off to. I'm really looking forward to seeing it for the first time. It will be a clan gathering minus the siblings abroad. The Husband plans to visit Limerick City Centre, an old stomping ground of his, with the older kids. I plan to bring the younger ones out into the country side, maybe take in some good old Irish Heritage Sites and the kids, well the kids will probably have fun throwing sheep pooh-balls at each other and seeing who can juggle the best, as they do.

WINE SANDWICHES

I like my glass of wine at the weekends, ok then, bottles . When I was younger I remember only being able to drink two glasses before I was knocking off the walls going up-stairs to bed. Now, with all the committed practice I've put in over the years you'd never even notice I'd drank a whole bottle by myself if it wasn't for the red ring around my lips. It's for this reason and this reason only that I never drink red wine outside of my house except for my Mothers and close girlfriends houses. White wine is nice during the summer and I like a nice cold Chablis with fish or a light lunch but you can't beat a good glass of red.
Recently I read that a glass of wine ,125ml, is equal to TWO BUTTERED SLICES OF WHITE BREAD. Why didn't somebody warn me. That means I've been eating at least six slices of buttered white bread every Friday, not to mention Saturday and even the odd slice on a Sunday, since Gods knows when and I don't even eat white bread.

This coming Saturday is Saint Patricks Day and now I'm starting to worry because I've never eaten a whole sliced white pan three days in a row................ but I'm willing to give it a bash

Must go coffee calling.

ZEBRAS AND BUM PLUGS.

We heard audrey coughing from her bedroom on and off for most of the night. By morning her legs were shaking and she had a temperature.



The words "No school for you today darling" soon put a smile back on her face but gave Sarah a complete mental breakdown. These occasions usually result in her finding a teriffic hiding place and staying there for at least 7 hours without eating, drinking or talking. Tickling is the only remedy.

The Husband kindly drove the other kids to school so I could stay at home and hit the bottle, eh, I mean paintbrushes.



She slept easier last night and went off happy to school because she is having a little pal from her class over on a playdate.

I on the other hand am not happy. A little word of advice to anyone about to buy a cute white puppy. Buy a couple of boxes of these as well for dealing with the inevitable nasty cling-ons......... or get a black dog.