Toys Worth Santa's Money

As you know I have six children aged 2 1/2 to 16. I was going to calculate how many Santa bundles that works out as but my brain started spinning wildly on it's axle by the time my calculations reached child 3 and one on the way, now was she born before Christmas or after? So I gave up.

I actually once worked out exactly how many nappies I've changed over the years and then wrote a  letter to the nappy company announcing that after x number of nappies and the successful toilet-training of little boy I was delighted to inform them I was no longer their customer and could they send me a prize. Sadly after searching and searching I could find neither address nor e-mail I could send it to so they never saw it and I never got my well deserved prize.

That was before little girl #5 came along and now I'm wondering how on earth I'm going to train her. She is completely in agreement with the theory and solemnly promises me every time that she's going to shout

"MAMMY MAMMY!!! POO POO COMIN'!!! KICK KICK!! POTTY!!"

So far she has succeeded a few times in announcing with that give-away pose and reddening complexion

"My...h..ave...nn...nnn...Poo...P..oo..."

 As a matter of fact, don't wait for a toilet training post here as I haven't the slightest clue how I trained the other five. Either it just magically happened or it was so traumatic my brain has blocked it out!! One or the other. If I succeed maybe I'll rewrite that letter and post it on the nappy mega-company's Facebook page!

Well anyway, I'm supposed to be writing about toys not pee pee.

Whatever the number of Santa bundles that have appeared in this house, it has amounted to. A LOT of toys. A LOT. Believe me, I know about toys. In this post I'm going to go through what I think are toys that are worth spending money on. Our children all have very different personalities so I'm going to mainly include what has been universally successful and not what suited a particular child's quirky taste. For that reason I'm not going to include 'How To Speak Zombie' (complete with push button sounds to perfect pronunciation) because that's an individual sort of taste!!

Here's a few thoughts before you buy any toy.

What is the Price:Play Value ratio?  If a toy does only one thing, or, I guarantee you, makes a noise, it's play value is very limited.  I doubt if a single child has ever learned the alphabet or how to spell from an electronic push-button toy.  These toys are great fun in the toy-shop while you are browsing but (IMHO) not worth wasting your money on.

Do you want the toy to last...maybe passed onto younger siblings or even grandchildren? Then it's worth investing in good quality timeless toys.

Do you hate picking up tiny pieces or are you the sort of person who knows exactly what every 2mm piece of Lego is for.  Take that into account.

Are you or Dad likely to sit with a child helping out with a toy which needs construction, supervision or a kit?  If you're not, don't buy those sort of toys, the pieces will be lost in no time or the project started and disappointingly abandoned.

Battery requirement?? A reasonably priced toy can very quickly become very very expensive.

How is the toy packaged and marketed?  Highly marketed fashionable toys are rarely worth the money and you are often simply paying for the expensive packaging or to cover the marketing.  Teach children to be discerning while looking at toy ads...you do not get the entire outer space with that spaceship.

Do you like the look of it? Will you mind it lying around. I really believe that children must like colours other than brash primaries and gaudy pinks.  Toys are the tools of our children's trade, and with that in mind, I think can also be tools in educating them in beauty.  The same goes for their music, literature and past-times. We need to take the harness in a culture which often glorifies crassness and lead children to something greater than that.  They spend so much time with their toys, go for ones that will uplift their souls and their character. (I think so anyway)

Here Goes

Doll-House / Castle

Both the doll-house and the castle (not pictured) got a huge amount of use in our house.  Our slightly girly purple castle finally fell apart after years of being played with constantly with a growing collection of princesses, warriors, ghouls and dragons of every kind.  The doll house is still growing strong after 12 years and is in the process of being re-decorated by daughter #4 (aged 10).  You can upgrade the chunky toddler appropriate furniture and people to those more suitable for older children...which is exactly what Santa did last year. (and again this year after the family had all their limbs pulled off by #6 during the Paralympics!!)

This time he's going for resin.  

Puppets

It is well worth building up a good collection of puppets.  A theatre is an optional extra which I'd only purchase when and if the children show an interest.  Our puppets have been pulled out repeatedly over the years for shows of every type.  Even the teenagers have rummaged for them of late in order to stage a production for the little ones.  There are great books of short plays suitable for children's puppetry available or the children can write their own.  Just be prepared to be the audience of one for very very long soliloquies by four year olds. 

My favourite puppets in the world are Folkmanis.

They are gorgeous, affordable and the range is huge.  Check out their website here, and in particular look at the gorgeous character puppets.

Radio-Flyer Wagon

Our Radio Flyer is in a bit of a rusty state having been loved, bashed, clunked and trundled through adventures in hail, rain, snow by all 27 cousins and 23 neighbour children.  It is absolutely structurally sound though and the rust is our fault for wintering it out year in year out. Only a day or so ago John said he's going to sand the rust off and repaint it for the next ten years of bashery.

 Radio Flyer have brought out more updated versions of this iconic wagon which have padded seats, seatbelts mp3 outlets etc.  I dunno...if it's not broken, don't fix it. It's not childhood unless you've taken a few tumbles.  This is so classic and versatile I'd go for the original version.  We've had babies wrapped up in rugs and pillows joining in the fun.

Art and Craft Materials

(picture source)

I really, really recommend you go to town in this area.  Don't just stick with the foam sheets and glitter glue you can buy anywhere.  If you want your children to think outside the artistic box, you need to provide them with some outside the box materials.  Oh...and buy decent paintbrushes even for small children (within reason and budget but £1 shop ones are a waste of £1)

For Ireland I recommend Cregal Art, they are a Galway based family run business.  I have telephoned them from time to time not even too sure what I wanted and they have gone above and beyond the call of duty. 

For UK I recommend  Baker Ross, they have a total treasure trove of stuff at very reasonable prices.  They ship to Ireland too and have set rates though you need to keep an eye on weight.

Sorry, my American and International friends, you'll just have to find your own!

Klutz

These are just simply the most well thought out, interesting, outside the box, funny, compact, affordable and just brilliant craft kits there are available on the market.  Believe me, I have trawled the internet with the precision of a mother removing nits for anything to do with art/craft (being my own area of interest).  These are THE best.  I have never, never, never been disappointed with anything Klutz. I think between all the children and so many Santa bundles we just about have practically every Klutz book ever published. 

(except that rogue one peeping out-that's a hilarious French baby sounds book we got in France which we already had in English.  I'll be posting about books shortly so I'll tell you about it then.)

They are worth the money.

Check out their fun website here.

Dress-Ups

Here again I suggest you pull out the stops.  We were first introduced to the magic of a well stocked dress-up box in Thirlestane Castle, Scotland which we visited when the (three) children were small.  Part of the tour was the nursery which featured a dress-up trunk filled with real costumes, props, wigs, hats.  It was just Heaven for the children.  Ever since then I have been adding to our trunk.  Every school show, every Halloween, every time a cousin or friend visits, basically all the time, the dress-ups are hauled out.  The place looks like Armageddon afterwards but takes only minutes to clear up.

As children get older try and build up some real theatrical supplies and props.  They are easily available online.  Keep your eyes peeled.  I have picked up some very high quality additions to our collection for next to nothing in TK Maxx, EBay and so on.  I am considering adding some adult sized items as our older children are still interested in rummaging.  Sometimes I slip a few new purchases into the trunk, say nothing and let them discover them at a later date.  

(My trunk has a very special meaning for me, it was the trunk my mother used when she left Ireland  at the age if 15 to work in Scotland.  When I look at my own almost 15 year old I feel so sad for her.  Ireland really has such a poignant history of emigration. It had a happy ending as she met my father, another Irishman abroad, in the Legion of Mary in Edinburgh and married him whereupon they returned home.)

What's inside?...

It's definitely worth spending some effort on this and it can be built up with no real pinch.

This Little Guy

Was given to our almost 15 year old when she was one.  It has never been put away and is as good as new. It will take the weight of an adult no problem and it is practically impossible for a child to fall off it. Great purchase.  The proof of the pie is that it is still being made with the exact same design. (Little Tykes)

Toy Cooker

A note on toy cookers, there is no need for a huge expensive space-hogging toy kitchen, your child will tire of it every bit as quickly as any other toy.  We had a lovely (big) one and I ended up donating it to our children's pre-school.  That said, they do have great play-value but just consider the space you have available before buying.

We had this little one and the children got great fun out of it for several years.  It's actually in the attic, I must get it down for our youngest.

And just look at this one...how sweet is that?

The Obvious 

Lego, Playmobil, Sylvanian Families...all expensive at point of purchase but they can be built up into a great collection and will be played with by your grandchildren when the price has long been forgotten. It's also an easy option to suggest to grandparents unsure of what to give as gifts.  They are timeless, quality and have endless play-value.  I'd go so far as to say Sylvanian families are our children's most played with toy. As a matter of fact, I really like playing with them myself...I think I'd like to live in Sylvania!

And Of Course

Not forgetting...

( I couldn't resist!)

 Please comment with any ideas you have as I still have a few years of trying to get ideas ahead of me.

Have You Eyes? What Do You See?

Have you seen the movie Avatar?  I saw it just once some time ago and though I really enjoyed it I can't remember much of the details of the story except that it was visually beautiful. If you follow me on Pinterest you'll know that I love blue, so the beautiful blue race with their huge eyes really enchanted me. But one thing I do remember well was the bond between the two main characters and how they expressed the depth of that bond.  When Jake and Neytiri commit to each other in a permanent bond (marriage?) the phrase they use is not 'I Love You', which is beautiful but often used as a lie.  The phrase the Na'vi race in the movie traditionally use is 'I SEE You'. I thought that was powerful.

For some reason I was thinking of that phrase a few days ago and what to see someone really can mean.  How has our culture affected how we look.  Oh yeah yeah, we're busy busy busy, we have no time to stop and stare...stop and smell the roses...stop and this...stop and that...but you know, we don't just need to stop.  As well as stopping we need to learn how to look, how to see.  What do we see when we look at people? 

Yes indeed we are busy, we don't have much time  how many times have you read a post on Facebook or said yourself just how beautiful children are when they're asleep?  Why is it that that is the moment we recognise that that little person is precious?  Because that is the time we look at them without an outside factor blurring our vision.  Life is fleeting and flies by at breakneck speed as we all know, we have pressure, and worries and after-school to keep up with. We think we don't have time to pass more than a cursory glance at those who pass us by, maybe a little more for those who share our household.  People in cars, people online, one face melting into another in an anonymous blur.  Faceless, anonymous...attackable.  When we look...when we see properly, we might just see that it's not a faceless entity that's there...it's someone.  

I was never the world's most uncomplaining pregnant mother, I'm afraid I have to admit my default condition was moan, groan, complain, whinge, whine.  But every so often when I was alone and I'd feel the heave of little limbs and suddenly have the realisation SOMEONE's in there!!! What an absolutely amazing thought.  Someone is there.  Unseen, faceless, but there.  

Last February I started following the blog of a newly married couple Andrew and Christina, whose baby girl went in a matter of moments from 'Your Baby' to 'The Baby' to 'The Fetus' for the simple reason that her ultrasound scan showed that baby Maria Isabella had Spina Bifida.  Baby Isabella, no longer someone. (follow this beautiful story here).  My own little girl lost her right to be called someone in an ultrasound room and I can attest to the profound and long-lasting pain this causes parents.  To deny  the recognition of humanity to a person, to make them anonymous, nameless so that we no longer owe them a duty of care.  And I can attest to just how much it means to the mother of a sick unborn child to hear the word 'baby' and to be asked her name.  'Anomaly' was that her name?  We were beginning to think it was.  

So how do we see 'Anomaly', born or otherwise?  My sister had a glimpse into the world of a disabled person a few years ago.  She was getting ready to go on a family outing  when she slipped on the last few stairs and badly sprained her ankle.  She was able to strap it up but the smaller children were very disappointed to miss the outing to the nearby forest park.  Her husband came up with the good idea of dropping by his workplace where there was a spare wheelchair and he could wheel my sister on the designated paths.  So they did that, and my sister had her eyes opened.  She couldn't but notice how people glanced away as she approached.  How they smiled at her husband but didn't make eye contact with her. How the assistant in the coffee shop asked him whether she took sugar in her coffee.  She was astonished!!  Obviously there's a certain element of people not knowing quite how to behave and not wanting to look rude but remember that that person is someone, say hello to them the same as we would anybody else we met on the path.

One day when our newborn little daughter was in the children's hospital a consultant came into our room doing his rounds with his entourage of medical students.  He spoke to them of the baby's 'anomalies' and their medical implications.  The group of students listened intently, scribbled notes and nodded profoundly...all except one...who looked at Louise and smiled.  About a half an hour later I heard a soft knock on the door of our little room.  It was the same medical student.  He apologised for interrupting and said he just came back to see the baby...and what was her name and could he lift her?  He looked at her so gently and with a look which said...'I see you'.  I hope he stuck it out because he is going to be a very good doctor.  He didn't just see a heart defect and this, and that, he saw someone.

When you see Christian Icon art you are looking at images which are full of symbolism.  You may notice that often the eyes are disproportionately large.  That is not a lack of knowledge of facial dimensions.  The eyes are portrayed as large to indicate contemplation.  Large enough to allow in real knowledge.  

Maybe our own eyes have become too small. We're not seeing enough. Maybe it's time to open them.

Looking at someone properly doesn't change them. It changes us.  It's something we should go to great lengths to teach our children.  How to look at people.  To see them in a way that maybe the world doesn't see them.  To see them with the eyes of God.  To see the value, the worth the unrepeatable treasure of each one, whatever their 'anomaly', whatever their faults.  Jesus looked at people with compassion, who are we to do anything other than that.  Because when we look we don't see.  When He looks...He sees. 

Oh...and just like Sweet Louise, Sweet Isabella is doing very well.  Please pray for both of them.

Housework Songs.

It's been a while since I've posted about keeping home and all the issues that go along with housework. I haven't forgotten about it though and I'll definitely be posting more about the great dignity and value of this work because it needs to be repeated often.  

I'm not embarrassed to say that I actually enjoy a lot of aspects of housework, cleaning and laundry but I didn't always.  So what's changed over the years? Perception.  Plain and simple.  If you think of any job as demeaning, drudgery or something to be endured, or better still, avoided, it will lose all attraction.  If on the other hand, you know the job has to be done so let's look at how we can make it fun or at least increase our motivation to get it done.  We do that to our children all the time, try to convince them that their chores are actually fun (although to date none of my children have fallen for that one!).  Why not do that for ourselves, we're no different in a lot of ways.

And what better way to get our cleaning mojo going than some great music.  I never do housework without music...never. Or maybe a Pod-cast I've been hoping to catch up on.  Everyone has their own taste in music, obviously, but here's a few of my favourites just to get you on track...

Oh, and by the way...DON'T choose music that reminds you of being stood up at the Debs or Prom, or of failing your exams, or your friend who emigrated all those years ago.  You're trying to get a spring in your step, not turn into an emotional wreck!!! (I learned that tip from my own experience).

So whip out that feather duster and those dancing shoes...

...there's cleaning to be done!!!

Ok...I know, I know...don't laugh but hey! Whatever works!!

(also, I haven't mentioned The Wiggles lately have I??)

There are lots more...that's just a few ideas. 

But finally...here's a challenge, have a listen to this last one get your best moves out 

and wail along with Kate...and see how much you can accomplish in the time:

Happy Cleaning.

What are your favourite housework anthems?

How To Be Unhappy In 10 Easy Lessons

I like Pinterest, it's a place of (mostly) beauty on the internet when there's so much sludge out there. It's growing rapidly and although in some ways is losing the homely feel it had to begin with. I still enjoy it. One of the big hits there is the abundance of inspirational quotes. Oh My! If inspirational quotes could lift us all we'd have no need for air flight. Lots of them are lovely and I have to say, many of them have given me solace at low moments especially when they have been passed on by someone who wants you to know they're thinking of you. I've passed them on myself from time to time. More than once I've spotted a beautiful picture and quote on Pinterest only to see it re-posted on Facebook the same day...these things take wings far beyond what the original poster could have imagined. That can be a good thing. Or not.

Here's something that has gotten me thinking.

Amongst all the beautiful, and 'Godly' and uplifting quotes on Pinterest, and elsewhere too but mostly Pinterest, I'm spotting more and more sneaking in there, disguised in the same clothing of dreamy pictures and stylish fonts, some which make me feel quite uneasy. And I feel uneasy because I'm seeing them being re-posted just as much as any of the other ones which promise happiness and comfort...only these ones are not the path to happiness...they're the fast-track to un-happiness.

In My Humble Opinion

I had a perfunctory look at Pinterest today and have, with very little searching, gleaned a few to illustrate what I mean.

So what's the running theme of all these? 

It's quite obvious...think of yourself first.

Do everything I want? What if the things I want to do are hurtful or harmful to others? What if I want is to help myself to something (or someone) that out of justice belong to somebody else ( a spouse perhaps?) Or what if it is harmful to myself...drugs, risky sexual behaviour, speed?  Is a spoilt Willy Wonka-esque 'I want it!' to be the criteria for whether we do something...?  Oh dear...

Never regret anything because it was what you wanted?  I have seen that sort of selfish attitude at very close quarters...and the resulting utter devastation of numerous lives. Should the people who caused that terrible situation just say 'Ah well, no regrets...it's exactly what I wanted' ?????!!! Forget about the children with lifetime scars? or the elderly mother with a broken and sorrowful heart? not to mention the injustice and cruelty to a beautiful wife?  Oh NO!!! Regrets of things we've done wrong can be the impetus to be better, to try and make up for what we've done, to atone...maybe even...apologise?

Your 20s are your 'selfish' years? Oh really? What if that is all you have? Nobody is guaranteed tomorrow. Not one of us.  A small child can be selfless, and saintly and a master of their own ego. What is the excuse for or benefit to anybody of someone in their 20's being 'selfish'? I can't think of one. And what happens when the last day of 29 is passed?  Is it likely that after ten selfish years a person suddenly become unselfish, caring of others...caring of a spouse, children? I don't think so. Ten years of self-centeredness is nothing but laying the groundwork for a lifetime of self-centeredness and unhappiness. The very special decade of the 20s is the time to strive to learn to be the best you you can be, to build up qualities and character. To learn how to serve, to love, to give of oneself. Selfishness and self centeredness are not attractive at any age be it two or a hundred. We all know elderly people who use their age to excuse themselves from manners or kindness and to justify their own selfishness...not nice.

Please yourself...do whatever you like...make yourself happy first...think of me, think of me!! 

And the last one...walk away from what no longer serves us. That is the saddest one of all. What no longer serves us or makes us happy. Dump it, dump them, walk away, let go....

Don't Dump People...Don't LET Go!!! 

 What if there's nobody underneath to catch them?

So people may not deserve our help. They're still people. I have seen the Sistine Chapel once or twice. It is magnificent. There is one tiny detail I love that is not often pointed out in the guidebooks or the tours. In one corner depicting the souls of the damned tumbling into Hell, gnarled and blackened arms waiting in hatred (and might I add...selfishness) to pull them down. Amongst that scene of despair there's a little detail of hope. A man is leaning down the edge of the pit. In his hands he is grasping a rosary beads. Clinging onto that beads he is hauling two wretched souls out of that cesspit. He didn't give up on those two who were maybe people he could have been justified walking away from. They may not have been great friends, but he was. He went to the gate of hell for those two men. He went to the gate of Hell but he didn't go in.

The gate of Hell was far enough.

Can I do that?

Would I?

Should I?

Yes, I should.

Should not walk away from people.

(Here again I'm not advocating staying in an abusive situation. Everything in this blog is aimed at your common or garden person with common or garden lives.)

Walking away from those who no longer serve us is to start out on a long road that has no visible end. As is well known, Holland is the world leader in walking away from those it deems useless. The rate of euthanasia on The Netherlands has increased by 73% in the last ten years. Last year the Dutch Physicians Association (KNMG) approved extending euthanasia to lonely people. The people cast off by those whose purpose they no longer serve.

What a despairing stance for a society to take. Rather than show kindness to somebody who is lonely, to be selfless with our time and keep a lonely (oh yes, maybe boring, dull, un-serving to our personal gratification or goals, but someone all the same) person company,  it's so much easier to cast them off.

Euthanasia...mercy killing...merciful to whom? The person who feels uncomfortable driving by a door knowing they should, but are unwilling to, call in and visit perhaps?

So sad. The best Holland can offer the lonely is an offer to kill them.

Walk away from your father, your wife, your friend who no longer makes you happy or serves your purpose. Very very sad, and very sad for the person who does that cynical thing. That is the fast track to unhappiness. Self seeking has never made a single person happy, deeply happy from within. Oh yes, superficial pleasures of course give a saccharine sweet taste. But pleasure is not happiness. Happiness ultimately comes from emptying yourself for the sake of another. Contentment and peace and joy come from seeking the good of the other rather than ourselves.

I have this little rant inspirational piece of advice I give our children to try and let them see the futility of only seeking one's own happiness over another's. The mindset of children can tend toward Me First! That's not FAIR! I WANT! ME! MY! MINE!! I've seen marriages I know wherein this attitude also resides. 'Well I just told him I DON'T iron', or cook, or this or that...I give you everything except...

So this is roughly how my Mom speech goes...

"There are eight people in this house (adjust numbers accordingly). If each of you is trying to make yourself happy, that's ONE person looking out for your happiness. On the other hand if each person is trying to make the others happy over themselves that's SEVEN people trying to make YOU happy! Wow"

Which would you prefer?

Now I know quoting Mother Teresa is a bit cliché but I'm choosing her because she has universal appeal among Catholics, other Christian denominations and non-believers of every sort.  I think it's correct to say she had interior joy, here's why...

If you want to spend your life pitifully barking up the wrong tree in a selfish

 self interested pursuit of pleasure, follow the advice of those pins.

If you want to be happy...Don't.

Out Of Nothing...Something Comes

For some reason, maybe it's the ebbing of Summer, I don't know, but quite a few people I know both in real life and among my online (also real-life) friends are feeling low just now.

All of us have times like that during the course of our lives and when it hits it can be very difficult to see light or hope at the end of the tunnel.  All the inspirational quotes and beautiful pictures on the entire internet don't really wash when  from our perspective we're living in a rut, or our outlook seems bleak, or just boring.  All the dreams we once held of how our life was going to unfold just look like bubbles that once sparkled with the brilliance of  hope but which are now burst and gone leaving only the memory of something that was beautiful for a while.

I'm not talking about major crises or actual depression here.  I've said it before on this blog, depression is an illness that needs to be attended to sooner rather than later and no amount of 'snap out of it'  advice is going to cure it.  If you think you may be depressed please go to the doctor.  At the very minimum, tell someone.  No, here I'm mainly talking about disappointment or when things just don't seem to be going well, circumstances really.

God works in mysterious ways.  Oh does He now? We've heard that one so often we don't hear it any more.  So God works in unemployment, or monotony, or loneliness, or the myriad of circumstances that aren't what we'd hoped for our lives?

I think He does.

Here's why...

This summer, to celebrate her 16th birthday,  I brought my eldest daughter and some of her friends on a trip around the magical off-the-beaten-track back streets of Dublin.  It was a beautiful and memorable sunny day spent with the loveliest of girls.  We browsed the market stalls, the button shops, the Doll's Hospital and ate lunch in Old Dublin. Just lovely.  We were winding down and I was starting to think of heading home in time to avoid the rush-hour traffic when we stumbled on a little shop whose window display lured us inside. 

Whereupon I spotted something I fell in love with immediately.   

This:

And in particular...

...this:

The reason this little phrase grabbed me was because it summed up things that had happened to me.  You might think I'm referring to more recent events but I'm thinking back much further to a different period of my life. 

Here's My Tale:

The job I had in my working days was in itself  lovely, always interesting and fun and lots of endearing street-wise children and teenagers to keep us on high alert and the days would usually fly by.  There was one big problem though, with quite a large workforce of un-sackable people, there was an endemic culture of bullying.  Now that wasn't so long ago but thinking of it now it's incredible how little understanding there was then of the seriousness of workplace bullying.  If it were to happen now there would be lots of paths of recourse for people but back then there was no right to reply. The chiefs were horrible to the Indians and that's the way it was. 

Some of the 'chiefs' would go so far as to only address an 'Indian' through the medium  of someone with a status closer to their own.(even though it was typical for the younger staff to be more educated and qualified than their superiors).  In fact the head of the entire organisation when sitting on an interview board was known (and I witnessed it myself) to sit sideways to the interviewee and speak over her shoulder, such was her disdain for the necessary 'evil' of staff beneath her. I'm not making this up, it's true. In general the bullying was not personal and there was great comradery amongst the troops. Though it would get everybody down from time to time,  I had never been particularly targeted as such.  That is, until I was transferred to another location and had a new 'boss'.  It has never  happened me before or since for someone to take a total dislike to me.  

There was no reason for me to be bullied or picked out because I'm not embarrassed to say that I was damn good at my job.  Work-ethic had to come from within as not working at all was not a punishable offence, in fact many's the time I saw clock-watchers/sick-leave experts get promotion after promotion over the head of good workers simply on their ability to schmooze at an interview.  You see the in-house interviewers knew nothing about their staff because of their attitude and didn't have a clue who was deserving of promotion.  Well anyway, that's neither here nor there, suffice to say this woman took a total dislike to me for no just cause. Now remember that the workplace culture then was no right to reply.  I had no option but to take daily humiliation, constantly being called into her office, smirked at and demeaned.  I was still friendly with the rest of the staff, including four other 'bosses' who all disagreed with the way I was being treated but it was terrible to live like that.  As I'd turn in off the main road every morning to the place I worked I'd feel a cloud descend on me and my palms would become clammy.  

I began to think of how I could get away from this rut.  I looked into changing career but that would have meant going back to college and my means were slim to pay for fees and support myself at the same time.  So instead I applied for a career break and my application was accepted.  By word of mouth I secured a job as an au-pair with a family in Palermo, Sicily.  After work every day I'd stay on to learn Italian in one of our language booths and I was saving up every penny for my trip. Soon I'd be free!!

And then my plans came to a standstill.

My mother got Cancer.

I decided to postpone my career break and see how things went but I was still planning to go to Italy.

Shortly afterwards something terrible happened.

The Supreme Court in Ireland interpreted a constitutional inclusion which gave unborn babies and their mothers equal protection and which had been put there precisely to give our country protection from the international heave to take away that protection, to mean EXACTLY  the opposite. The unborn in Ireland no longer had constitutional protection.  I'll never forget that night, I didn't sleep a wink.  

I cancelled my career break.  

So back to my work with no real sign of a letting up in the bullying by my boss.  In some ways I felt sorry for her as I figured that anybody who felt they had to treat people like this couldn't have interior peace or happiness.  All the same, in spite of my continued 'cheerfulness' I was just so down.  My mother was sick, my job had lost any enjoyment that had been there, it was the days of high emigration in Ireland and my original group of friends from my job's halcyon days had mostly headed to England or America, and now I knew I was going to be involved in something nobody should ever have to address.  I wasn't depressed but to be honest, I wasn't too far off it.

Then one day, when I felt I couldn't spend another minute in that place, I sat staring at a newspaper during my break and spotted a notice about a pro-life demonstration at Government Buildings that afternoon.  Just to get away I went and asked for a half day's annual leave.  I was replied with the bitchy response of 'short notice' and 'unacceptable' but both she and I knew the quorum was well covered and she had no choice but to grant the leave.  

I took the bus into town and found a good viewing position on the steps of Buswells Hotel to listen to the speakers.

Now that morning in another part of the city a Professor in the Medical School woke up feeling unwell and telephoned the college to cancel his lectures for that day.

One of the lectures that was cancelled was that of a student in Pre-Med.  He was drinking coffee in the canteen flicking through a newspaper that was lying around when he spotted the same notice which had prompted my own half day.  Having nothing else to do before his next lecture, being pro-life and having a certain attraction to swimming against the tide he decided to stroll on down and have a look.  So he took the short walk from his college to Government Buildings, strolled the length of the street and went back to college in time for his next lecture.

Now the girl (me) standing on the steps caught a brief glimpse of the student as he passed,  recognised him as being from her own town, thought to herself  'Oh, he must be pro-life' and thought nothing else about it.

A month or so later as I was sitting with some other young people brainstorming who we could get on board to help us with the up-coming canvass on a treaty which was going to have implications connected to the court's recent misjudgement.  I mentioned that I had seen such-and-such's son walk by the demonstration that day and maybe he'd be interested in helping out.  So I was given the job of tracking him down and asking him.  

So I did.

We have been 17 years married this year.

I am sure God was guiding my path all along, 

even though it seemed miserable and thorny.

Because:

 If I hadn't been being bullied,

If my mother hadn't gotten cancer,

If baby X hadn't been so unjustly and cruelly treated,

If I hadn't cancelled my longed-for career break,

If a lecturer hadn't been unwell that day,

If the lecture hadn't been cancelled,

If someone hadn't discarded their newspaper

If I had been standing on the footpath instead of the steps...

This:

 would never have happened...

and these children:

couldn't possibly have existed.

Out of nothing...something came.

I'm glad my eldest daughter spotted my eyes mist over when I read the caption on that plate as I remembered all that.  I got the plates for my birthday a few weeks later.  

If you're feeling low, I hope this story gives you some hope ♥

Shine On...

When I was in college I lived at home as it was within commuting distance.  In order to be on time for classes I would catch the earliest bus and to avoid rush hour traffic. The result of this was that I was always first to arrive, me and one other guy that is, he was a commuter too. To pass the hour we'd head to the student canteen and drink coffee. We'd chat a bit and then he'd pass on the newspaper he had bought to read on the train journey.  It was always the same tabloid and because I must have been brain dead back then for want of anything else to do, I'd sit and read the seedy gossip, the titillating snippets and the lewd jokes and quickly pass over the scantily clad page 3, 4, 5, 6 & 7 girls.  I knew it was rubbish then, just as I know it's rubbish now.

But every morning, after killing time with that sickly diet of the lowest common denominator, I wished I could shower.  I'd feel kind of tainted.  As though what I'd just read had stuck to me.

Just how I felt after the amount of study I put into my last post. Like I needed to wash it off.

Be sparkly clean again. 

But to be quite honest, having a shower in my bathroom has been a bit of a irritation to me this last while.

You see...my shower cubicle is made of glass..

Y'know the mineral residue that builds up on the glass of showers? The one where the minerals that are dissolved in the water stick to the glass like concrete when the water evaporates?  Of course I know you're supposed to have a conveniently placed squeegee  so that you can wipe down the glass after every shower. That's what Supermom does.  The problem with that is that my shower usually lasts all of about 1.57 minutes and I have about the same amount of time left to put on my make up and do everything  else I need to do before the next thing I need to do.

(Having said that, an afternoon shower when I've managed to slink away un-noticed and double-locked the door is sheer bliss).

I quite often clean as I go and have been known to scrub the shower while washing my hair but in general, squeegeeing the shower doors is not usually high on my priority list, I just don't have time...and I'm willing to bet you don't have time either.

Now that residue once it builds up is the devil himself to remove.  With eight bodies and eight heads of hair to be kept clean along with zero motivation coming from six of those and minimal time available to the other two, the bottom third of my shower doors is not exactly what you'd describe as sparkling. I've tried lots of things. Nothing has really worked.So of late I've just been resigned to a dull sheen on my shower rather than a glittering sparkle.

But a girl does like a bit of sparkle.

Keep Calm Everyone!!! Help is at hand!!

A day or two ago I was enjoying my nightly visual holiday on Pinterest, that little haven of loveliness in the middle of the dump heap the internet is fast becoming. If you haven't dipped in there yet, here's a little taster with my own favourite board, (feel free to follow me if you like). Of course, a bit of snarkiness can be found there too but much less than some other sites.  

Well anyway, I came upon this pin:

Source: household-tips.thefuntimesguide.com via Teresa on Pinterest

Uses for magic erasers.  I knew I had one or two in the back of the cupboard under the kitchen sink from the time little girl #4 coloured our newly painted sitting room wall with black crayon.  Worth a try I suppose.  So off I went, rummage rummage, found my old magic erasers and headed upstairs...

...where I let loose on the shower doors...

Oh my goodness gracious me!!

IT WORKED!!

Here's my results on one door.  I put a towel behind the glass to show the before~after contrast. Now I have to tell you it takes a little bit of elbow grease, not too much, but it's one of those jobs that's so satisfying that you start looking for what else you can try it out on.  

Pretty good don't y'think?

And...it's fun.  The children will love it! 

Mwahahahaha!!

So, Girl, there you have it...

Now where are those scented candles and oils???