So sorry I haven’t been blogging the last 2 weeks. I’ve been rather busy.
It was wild. I could finally let loose, meet new people and just laugh my socks off.
Who cares that the party was for a 7 year old, and the laughter primarily took place in a cinema in Santry, chortling like goodo to Baby Boss, or is it Boss Baby. Either way it was awesome baby.
I had however, a bit of a discombobulating moment in the foyer of the cinema. Just before we went in, I decided to give a talk to the 10, pint sized party goers about the plans for the day. They were simple – cinema and McDonalds. Easy peasy.
I introduced myself as Jennie, Ziggys Mammy; and then, to add colour to proceedings, I added that I grew him in my tummy and was really, really, reh-eallly happy to be celebrating his birthday with all of his friends.
Multiple confused faces stared up at me.
I sensed maybe this is not how many 7 year old boys parties begin.
Or girls parties, for that matter.
Cue a look from Ziggy that signalled me to stop talking. I can assure you, I could hear myself and was indeed picking up what he was throwing down.
I was in full youthwork autopilot mode and was compelled by an unknown force to continue. I followed with bathroom procedures.
Later, on reflection, I thought I lost them when I started signalling like an excitable air hostess miming the ‘in case of emergency” exit routine. Ziggy assured me it was the tummy statement.
They began to jump around, stand on the chairs and blatantly ignore me.
I refused to let a gang of 7 year old boys break me. I was wearing makeup and an underwire bra for god’s sake. I am a full sized, mothertruckin’ adult force to be reckoned with. One ‘LADS’ at a slightly louder voice seemed to do the trick. Ta-dah! I was back in the room.
It was brilliant craic and Ziggy was on cloud three. It’s his favourite number to be perched on.
I’ve been trying out different tones of voice this Easter midterm. I’ve given myself (some might declare), an impossible challenge – to not raise my voice and remain a breezy, fun Mama every, single, day of the break.
But it’s like the kids have undertaken an alternate challenge – in opposite land.Let’s just say, it’s day 6 and I’ve had to restart the challenge every, single, morning of the break.
My Zen pitfalls so far (not an exhaustive list); the 1 full hour it took to get everyone ready for a trip to Ikea, the green machine bike fiasco, the rogue buggy, the screeches of Ariana Grande on loop, the mystery of the lost Carmex lip gloss, the dog poop on the car seats, the uneaten ‘too many vegetables’ spaghetti bolognaise, to name but a few.
But mostly, we’ve had a whole hoopla of fun. Even when I’ve had to raise my voice (at home) and release the death stare (in public). I tell ya, when i’ve forgotten my ridiculous self imposed challenge and just inhaled the joy of no timetables, a break from routines, playing games and just being present – it’s blooming loverly.
April – I’m a fan! Ziggy and Millie’s birthdays, daffodils, and this year – Easter eggs! A cornucopia of cocoa*. Besides my family, goats cheese and Jack Pearson from ‘This is us’ – chocolate is my favourite.
I’m also on the countdown back to work. Just over a week left! Eeek. My nerves are jittery. But the thought of copious amounts of chocolate eggs are easing my anxiety ever so much.
Ah here! I’ve gotta go. I’ve to help Ziggy search the house for his chocolate bar that I ate last night. Emotional eating- what ya gonna do?!?
Happy Easter peeps!
*Oh and remember, cocoa comes from the cocoa plant. Which is essentially salad when you think about it? So have no shame in getting choco-wasted – I’ll be joining you!