The Ism’s – coming to get you one way or another..

As a somewhat detached kind of Catholic (given that a la carte is a phrase which suggests a certain level of commitment); I was still quite shocked the day after a communion of for the father of one of the fresh communicants to say;

“Well we are just going through the motions for now. He will probably decide it’s a load of rubbish himself when he’s older”.

It just seemed to be such a hypocritical thing to say? Especially since we were still eating leftover cake from the large family party we had just had to celebrate.

 And it kind of annoyed me. If you do think it is a total load of rubbish, then why go through it? Why have everyone dress up, troop to the church, make a fuss of the child and have a big party? What does that say about you? That you would masquerade for a day and teach your child something you don’t believe in?  Give me atheism or fanaticism any day over that level of cynicism. At least those other two have thought about their choices.

Having a child has forced me to think of religion in new terms. As Irish Society redefines its relationship with the church it seems to me that there has been a wholesale chucking of the baby out with the bath water. Although I am hardly Mother Theresa neither am I convinced that it is entirely the right thing to do.

For Catholicism, with all its massive failing still provides some basic tenets to live by. If none other (and I am not even sure this is in the bible!”)

“There, but for the grace of God, go I”.
When my children are older and walking past a homeless person on the street I don’t want them to think; “Oh he’s a loser with a capital L.” a la Paris Hilton.  I want them to think “There, but for the grace of God go I” and act accordingly with compassion and respect. 

Ireland is an increasingly secular society and in many ways this is a good thing- it is right and proper not to have the church involved in government, hospitals etc.. . But as we remove all Catholicism from our daily lives I wonder what else is going to fill that vacuum? Consumerism? Narcissism? Neither of these seem like an adequate replacement. Or the building blocks of a caring society.

As much as I rail against the Catholic church (and there is so much to rail about), the thought of bringing children up without belief frightens me.  Not only because it suggests a society lacking direction but also from their own perspective.

If my children are ever clinging on to the side of a rock for dear life be that either literally or figuratively. I want them to have something to believe in; something bigger then themselves. I never wish them to feel alone; I want them to call on God to help them, to pray for help if need be and by praying to hang on longer then they might have thought humanly possible. I always wish them to have that comfort. How I can impart a faith I am not sure I have myself I am not clear. But I think I am going to try. Or then decide that I really cant. But either way am going to try very hard not to be a hypocrite.

Oi Parents! Leave those kids alone..

We are holidaying at the moment in one of the most child friendly places imaginable. The upshot of this is that we are surrounded by families just like ourselves; everyone seems to have at least two small children in tow and being faced with these mirror images of us at every corner has been a little unsettling. .


Apparently every family treats their child as if they are the centre of the universe. Of course, ours really are the centre of the universe but these other families seem to think theirs are pretty special too. Everyone talks to their children non stop in a raised, half public kind of way. And nearly everyone hovers over their children as if their lives depend on it.

Yesterday there were so many parents standing over the sandpit I thought an accident had happened. Instead as I got closer I realised that they were all just minding their own child albeit “minding” in a constant issuing of instruction kind of way somewhat akin to an officer directing traffic in mid-town Manhattan;

“ Oliver, what are you doing? Oliver mind that little girl, Oliver stand over there. Oliver, Oliver move away, Ollie come back here right now!”

It was incessant; a constant firing of instructions that would make an astronaut dizzy.

Today at the pool was no better, everyone was all over their kids like a rash. In the changing rooms;

“ Jacob, stand back. Jacob, stand back. Jacob move away from that, What did I say? I said move away!”

Now in fairness I could only hear these goingson from the din of my own cubicle but given that it was a swimming changing room and not a nuclear facility the chances are that whatever Jacob was doing was not all that life threatening.

And yet his father could not leave him alone. He was at him the whole time. As were all the other parents, as were we ourselves!

What is this, the requirement for constant commentary? I am pretty sure my parents didn’t do this when we were growing up. We were probably all the better for being ignored a little. Come to think of it I couldn’t think of anything worse then someone giving me a running commentary on my day;

“Northside Mum, put down the wine glass, move it to the left. You are going to spill it. I am telling you put it down. Move it to the left. Move it to the left now or go to your room. Now, look what you’ve done!”

So if we don’t do it for the kids, and I think its fair enough to say they probably tuned us out a long time ago then who do we do it for? Is it to make sure everyone knows what good parents we are? Is it to validate ourselves and our parenting choices? Look how involved I am – I must be good at this parenting game. For what ever reason maybe it is time we all took a break and backed off a little, just gave them a little space to breathe. Chances are they would definitely enjoy it.

The Big Move Part 2

Well it was the funniest thing. There I was up to ninety, ready for the roaring to break out at any minute. When my little pixie, took one look at her room, her lovely new cushions, dolls house and unicorn teddy, decided she loved it and snuggled into bed. Ok, confession here - I did bottle it on the giving up breastfeeding front.. It was all going to well, she was literally cooing at her new bedspread and she was soo tired, I knew just a little feed and she would fast asleep and dreaming sweet dreams in her own bed - and thats exactly what she did. Looking back it was so obvious all along that she was ready for it, it was just Mommy who had the "issues". So in a way the whole thing was an anti-climax. The whole weekend had been built around an assumption of sleep deprivation and crying and in the end, it was sweetness and light. You could have knocked me over with a feather!

So Pixie has made the move- and in a strange way we all seem to have moved on. In the last 10 days, I have been out for dinner - twice, seen a film (Sex and the City 2- actually quite funny if you dont take it seriously)and read two books. I literally have not had time like that in almost four years... We no longer seem to be utterly over whelmed and consumed by nap times/ calpol and sleepless nights. And it is such a relief.. I almost found myself wondering what my next project could be - first thought which popped into my head?? Why another baby of course! Think I'll leave that one for another while... there must be something less expensive and time consuming I can come up with first :)

The Lactation Consultant

Well we have had the lactation consultant over for a visit...my childless sister thinks I make these people but of course you know it is all too real!
With a somewhat heavy heart have decided it is time to start weaning Pixie, what with her walking and talking an all think our time is up :) And am afraid that also means it is time to leave mammy and daddys bed (my heart sinks just typing it).. She is 16 months old tomorrow and if we dont do it now think she'll be in there till early adolescence at least. To be honest am sure if I wasnt working I would have done it much earlier but it definetly made the transition easier from me getting all those good cuddles during the night.
And really it is time, for a while there I hung on to the hope that she would "self wean" but that urban myth never came within an asses roar of happening.
So tonight (and the next night and the night after that) are going to be tough in the Northside house...The plan is to feed her downstairs, then give her a warm bath, pop her in her bed and wait for all hell to break loose :) I am planning on staying in the room with her but not feeding her to sleep (which is our current routine).
We have done up her room with lovely lights and a bedspread with pink poks dots and butterfly cushions but am sure it will all be for nought. Eldest even demostrated how to use her bed for her this evening. He snuggled in and put the blanket over him - she thought it was hillarious.
Am going to try and be strong - this is for the best. If I keep her "my baby" much longer I will only do her a disservice by infantilising her (is that a word??)
And part of me does think how lovely it would be to go to bed, sit up and read a book for 20 mins and sleep without worrying about waking the baby.
Wish us luck - you may hear the screams from your house!

Falling out of love...

The weirdest thing has happened recently.. I seem to be falling out of love. It started in little ways over a long period of time; minor irritations, a general lack of patience and now just outright contempt. I never thought I would ever write these words but I seem to have fallen out of love with shopping??
I am not quite sure how this happened, shopping and I go back such a long time together. It used to be one of my favourite things to do, hours were devoted to it, trips planned around it - tons of money spent on it - an now nothing. I would rather stick pins in my eyes.
Like most changes in my life, I blame the arrival of my children. The belly bulge which resists all weight watchers attempts is part of my disenchantment but it also seems to come down to time. I have time to work and time to be with the kids. Anything else which can be carved out of that is precious -- I have a chance to go for a run, do bikram, read a book, write a little here and there and increasingly any of that time spent wandering around marks and spencers wondering if that dress is something my mother would wear or is instead a canny classic buy seems a colossal waste of time. It just all seems like so much stuff, piled on more stuff when I have so much stuff already??
That said I have not quite fallen out of love with fashion or (trying) to look good so all though I no longer have space in my brain to keep up with it all myself I enjoy chats with those who can and are willing to help. I no longer pretend I have a clue and it is such a relief. I had a good chat with an online "style advisor" on tedbaker.com recently and it went quite well - best bit  it took all of 10 mins and there is a nice jacket winding its way over to me from the UK. Am quite excitedly tracking its progress on DHL at the moment, it seems to have such an interesting life. It was in Heathrow yesterday, the east midlands this afternoon - am hoping it will be in Dublin tomorrow but who knows?
Its quite shocking this falling out of love with shopping thing; am not sure what is next- developing an aversion to nice meals out? A rash when going to luxury boutique hotels? Refusing point when blank brad pitt wants to bed me?? Unlikely I know sure brad and I go way back ;)

neglect

my poor poor neglected blog. But the way I see it, it is better to have a neglected blog then neglected children or a neglected husband, neglected work and even a neglected house!
Hard to keep it all going and when times get tough and sleep deprivation is a constant friend then the blog goes by the wayside. I have missed it though and missed everyone out there in blogging land and seeing how everyone is doing.
Am going to try and carve out a bit more me-time..think the trick must be turning off the tv and letting the dishes rot in the sink. It wont be pretty but it should be a damn site more interesting.

Slicing and Dicing

So last night I was up in bed slicing and dicing the figures. I have to confess that laying awake at night worrying about money and how far it will stretch is a relative new phenomenon for me. However our family income is down a whopping 60% - possible even 65% since December and so now late at night I find myself doing excel calculations in my head.


I have to say I resent ending up in this place. I studied hard, worked hard and did all the “right” things. As a dedicated spender, money went out the door fairly quickly but then there was always a bonus payout or a pay rise to absorb the costs. And I assumed it would always be this way that we were on a middle class trajectory where things only went “up”, not sideways, not down and definitely not out. I don’t think we are alone here. A friend of mine recounts with an embarrassed smile rolling up at the post office last week to pick up her dole money, Gucci sunglasses on her head and a sports car outside the door. But in fairness, what is she to do? I don’t think anyone saw this middle-class recession coming so hard and so fast. She could put the sunglasses on eBay but who wants the sports car?

We have been hit by DH losing his job, my 10% pay cut, the rise in PRSI ceiling and the new income levy. Out mortgage which was comfortable at 5 times our combined earnings is distinctly uncomfortable and panic inducing at 10/ 11 times my current take home pay. Granted some of that mortgage is on property which is rented out (thank god) but if we lost both sets of tenants we would be in hot water very quickly. Again we thought we were sensible Celtic cubs, investing in property but still maintaining a Loan to Value of 50%. Cue one almighty property crash later and a current LTV is more like 100% and creeping.

So now I do things I thought only “real” housewives did. I look at our budget and plan our weekly meals accordingly. Too many carrots, looks like they might go off? Carrot soup for the week. Wilting leeks? Chopped up to make leek risotto for the kids. We are cutting out meat and claiming to be eating healthier but really it is much cheaper. And to a certain extent I can do this. I will do this. We are not that badly off, I know people in Foxrock and Montenotte whose parents have to pay their mortgage. If this is the worst of the recession then we are keeping our heads above water and will manage just fine.

But there is a point where I draw the line. And that is I am not rearing my two beautiful children for export. If Ireland really does slide backwards into poverty, the bad old days of the 80s and I think there will be no future for them when they hit 18 then we will have to leave. Leave before they start school in two years time. Leave our beautiful home, family and friends and set up shop in London or Toronto or Sydney or wherever we think they can live a full and prosperous life. I don’t intend to Skype with my grandchildren in thirty years time.

But hopefully that day will never come, things will pick up and we will make it through with a bit more resilience then we thought we had. In the meantime though, for the foreseeable future I am going to be lying awake at night, slicing and dicing in my head.