“Amnials” is how Hawkeye says “animals” at the moment. Frankly, I find it adorable. I always have to bite my tongue not to laugh and I have to sternly remind myself to say it correctly in response, and not indulge my own whimsy at his toddlerisms. This past weekend we went to Dublin Zoo again.…
This post is a short self-reflective pause. A public service announcement, if you will. I have enjoyed blogging massively so far. Some days are a struggle, other days I have trouble stopping writing. I definitely want to continue. However, posting daily is a huge time commitment that I really can’t afford. I have other projects…
We haven’t really been organised about starting potty training with Hawkeye yet. Partially, because I don’t feel the need to rush, and partially because we’re simply not, well… organised. I’ve been meaning to get a potty seat and step stool for the bathroom but just haven’t quite managed to get to that line on my…
I can’t remember the last time I wore Hawkeye in the sling. It was sometime late last autumn because he liked being taken to creche on his push-trike that he got for his birthday, and when the steering on the trike broke, we began to use the stroller because the weather was cold and although I have a…
I took this photo recently because I loved walking by the wall in the alley daily and seeing the flowers cling and grow out of something that is meant to be lifeless. There’s a metaphor in here somewhere, I thought as snapped the photo quickly. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” “Nature will persevere.”…
The advantage of this unintended photo essay of the flora in the front gardens of Shelbourne Road (and, as I’ve realised, a stretch of Upper Grand Canal Street), is that in the process of paying close attention to the flowers that are blooming I have been able to appreciate them in different stages of blooming. Here’s an example of a…
It started with dirty laundry. No wait, it started with a Parents Newsletter and dirty laundry. When I collected Hawkeye on Friday there was the ubiquitous collection of sheets clipped under each child’s name. And the first item in the newsletter was one that I love and loathe in equal measures: a dress-up event. I love…
The Feathered Rose 