I can’t remember the last time I actually spent a whole day in bed. I mean, even when the whole household was sick over the summer and I spent a long weekend parenting from the comfort of our pull-out couch, I still had to be up and about to a certain degree because unfortunately you…
Last time my mother was visiting Hawkeye was communicating with very basic sentences and a relatively limited vocabulary. Now, he’s a full blown threenager, and while much of his babble is still in that mysterious language unknown to grownups, there is also a significantly more complex communication going on. Observing natural language acquisition from up close…
The end of ever-increasing incrementally exhausting number of days began with me waking up not even knowing if my mother had made her flight to Dublin and ended in a bar with a friend’s birthday party, full of people I dearly loved seeing, but costing so much effort from my non-existent energy reserves that I…
The rule of scoring work swag is that you have to be in the right place at the right time. Or, as is often the case these days in large firms, looking into your inbox at the right time and clicking reply and send first and thinking through all of the details later. That’s how, earlier this…
Last week my son moved up from the Junior to Senior Montessori classroom. These spiders for Halloween were among some of the last art projects he did before the move. I am endlessly fascinated by 1) how the teachers manage to get the toddlers to do such neat work and 2) how his hands are…
Yesterday I mentioned that sometimes I have endless patience as a parent in situations that should by all rights leave me tearing my hair out. Today was not one of those times. Neither is my writing cooperating with me today, with my half-written post intended for today not coming together the way I want it…
I’ve come to realise that there are some parenting things I’m surprisingly good at. For example, I have discovered that sometimes I seem to tap some secret, bottomless well of patience in circumstances where, some inner detached part of me observes, I should by all rights be losing the plot and tearing my hair out.…
Me: *critically examines own fingernails* Why won’t my nails grow faster? Also me, an hour later: *balances precariously on the edge of toddler’s cot, ignoring the uncomfortable edge of the bed rail under my backside and the drool around the flashlight in my mouth, leans in further, trying to crane neck at a 90 degree angle…
I have an old teddy bear that’s travelled all over with me since a a close friend of mine gifted it to me for Valentine’s Day my second year of high school. That makes Teddy old enough to drink in America and run for public office in Ireland. He’s even had at least one heart…
Today’s parenting lesson: it’s harder to cut a three year old’s hair than a two year old’s hair. Example A above – I didn’t choose to do this while sitting cross-legged on the floor of the kitchen with the kid in my lap, fully dressed, because in thought it would be comfortable. Let’s just chalk…
Today we had our first visit to the dentist with Hawkeye. There was no specific need behind it, just the idea of exposing him to going to the dentist, reminding him about the importance of brushing his teeth, and making sure there was nothing blindingly obvious going on inside his mouth that we weren’t aware…
The Feathered Rose 