Family & Home

Becoming a mother was a challenge for me. I finally achieved my dream when I was far older than I ever imagined I would be.

 

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I spent so many years thinking about the wonderful mother I was going to be, I created Wondermom in my head. My illusionary, perfect mother-of-two, did it all, without even batting an eyelid. But that all changed, when my triplets were born. Life became mayhem, which I willingly embraced. I thrive on chaos.

Even if Irish American Mom is the real deal, and a far cry from my superwoman illusion, who cares? My kids are happy, growing, and bring endless joy to our family.

Of course, I dreamed my offspring would be little angels too. I would never give birth to a tantrum-throwing, nose-picking, hair-pulling, cheeky child. That’s what I believed, anyway.

Bandaid - vintage art

“I hurt my toe.”

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Reality reveals parenting is a joyful struggle. My greatest daily accomplishment is four, peacefully, sleeping children at the end of each day. I thank God each night, when nobody has sustained a broken arm or leg, or an open wound, beyond the healing power of a miraculous Bandaid.

Here, I will share my stories of raising a kind, gentle, big brother, together with the tales of my terrific trio. This is not an advice blog on how to be a better mother, because I am no expert. If you feel inclined to read about the trials and tribulations of an Irish woman, raising her American kids, while she discovers what it means to be an American, then this is the place for you.

Wash behind your ears

Wash Behind Your Ears

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Whatever corner of the globe we hail from, or wherever we call home, we have one amazing thing in common. We love our children more than life itself. Together we can find comfort in our stories of joyful hustle and bustle. I share my own struggles and moments of laughter in the Trials of Motherhood.

 

Vintage photo - triplets

Triple Trouble

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Multiple Mothering is dedicated to the stories of handling three newborns, with the assistance of a two year old, who is under the illusion that all babies come in packages of three.

Vintage clip art -

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In the Education section my own learning curve is exposed, as I venture into the world of the American Education System. It is all new to me.

 

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Out of the Mouth of Babes is dedicated to recounting the funny things my children say. How is it the old saying goes?

“Out of the Mouth of Babes,

Oft Times Comes Gems”.

The utterances of my kids are often ‘gems’ alright. So much so, I thought I might share the wealth.

I hope you enjoy this Family Life section as much as I enjoy writing it. Please feel free to comment. I love reading your heroic stories of ordinary life.

 

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I think my whole family is laughing at the title of this section. First, let me clear one thing up.

I Am A Lousy Housekeeper.

I can shout it out, and feel no shame. This Irish American Mom is definitely no “Stepford Wife.” My reality is no movie, and I have no intention of trying to make it so.

I am the Mom that I am; untidy, a bit frazzled, but always, there for my kids. I will never live up to a ridiculous, Hollywood ideal, but that is a lesson I learned, very early into this parenting journey.

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My housekeeping may not be perfect, but it certainly is good enough. I embrace my imperfections. Here I open up my messy cupboards to you. If you are beating yourself up, because you think you do a bad job creating the ‘perfect’ home environment, then stop. You are in good company. Together we can discuss our failings and learn to laugh at them.

Growing up in Ireland my mother established many annual rituals for us. Amongst them was the annual planting of daffodil bulbs in the fall. We eagerly awaited the first appearance of spiky, green leaves, popping through the brown, crumbly earth of spring. We picked strawberries in summer, stirred gooseberry jam in late summer, glued leaf paintings in autumn, and picked holly at Christmas time.

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Now that I am a proud mother of four, beautiful children, I feel an overwhelming need to establish our Irish-American family traditions. In Backyard Tales I will share my attempts at developing a green thumb, and family routines based on the cycle of the seasons. Wish me luck! I will need every bit of it.

During my schooling in Ireland, the nuns did a great job, teaching me how to knit, crochet and sew. I only recently picked up a pair of knitting needles again. A mother of a child in my boy’s class, asked me if I knew how to increase a stitch, when knitting. I think she hoped I might be able to knit, because of my Irishness. It was a pleasure to help her out, but the experience got me thinking.

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I too, should be knitting. My four-year old, little girl will soon be ready to learn. Heck, her three brothers can learn also. No more Irish, Mama’s boys in this house. When I embark on my Crafts journey, I shall share the painful details.

My two sisters are now rolling around the floor, laughing as they read of my proposed Fashion category.

Let me explain!

If I still lived in Ireland, they no doubt would have suggested my suitability for the ‘student’ or ‘victim’, in the Irish or English version of the hit TV show, “What Not to Wear”.

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I like comfortable clothes and shoes. A few items of my beautiful wardrobe, remain in my parents’ house in Ireland. When I visit home, I do not have to do a lot of packing. Who cares if I wear the same, out-of-style, fashion mistakes, for five years in a row? Into the bargain, I love my wellies, or rain boots, as they are called in America. They are an extension of my persona. My sisters, just do not understand.

Since, my four-year-old girl has now taken to pointing out my fashion faux pas, I feel no qualms of conscience, if I use this blog, to explore the world of fashion, Irish and American trends, jewelery, or shoes. We can discuss Claddagh rings, Tara brooches, or whatever else takes our fancy. No expertise required.


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In Keeping House & Home, I will share my love of newly-discovered gadgets like toaster ovens, and crock pots. There are so many things I love, like dish cloths and candles, I believe they deserve a category all of their own.

Enjoy my homely musings.