On the face of it I have all the outward appearances of a calm, with it, relaxed modern mum. But there, bubbling away under the surface lies a fiery risk-obsessed, neurotic, hypochondriac, psycho mum with serious ‘people who park in mother and baby spots’ anger issues.
Take for example swine flu. I got a card in the post this week instructing me to take my two youngest children to the health centre and have them vaccinated against it.
Now, working for years in the media has left me rather sceptical on pretty much everything. My first thought wasn’t to thank the Lord that my kids will not catch the dreaded swine flu. Instead my crazed mind felt that they were only getting this jab because the government bought so much of the stuff that they needed to get rid of it. And what better way than to inject it into little kids?
I blame a certain Mr Television for warping my brain.
Now I know that many people have tragically died from swine flu already, a lot of them young children, many of them with underlying medical conditions. My fear is that by using these few heartbreaking cases, the media are whipping up a storm to panic the rest of us into injecting chemicals into our kids, the side effects of which we wont know for years.
See there, the above comment is proof positive of the risk-obsessed side of my personality.
It’s my own fault. I watch unhealthy amounts of much 24-hour news. Since the swine flu story became news I have flicked between the constantly updating channels, which told us over the course of a few weeks…
1. We are ALL going to DIE of swine flu!!
2. No, wait, all your little children are going to die of swine flu!!!
3. No, hold on there, there’s a vaccine, but you’re not getting it so you’re still all going to DIE!
4. No, wait up, you can have the vaccine, but we haven’t tested it yet so it might be rather dangerous and it could cause you to DIE!!
5. If you haven’t already died from all the stress inflicted by panic-inducing news stories (or indeed from bird or swine flu) hold your horses, there’s another pandemic just around the corner that will definitely cause you to DIE!
Now when the bird flu panic washed over the O’Neill household a few years ago I was on the frontline of panic stations until the husband took over. If you recall my first line of defence was to instruct the husband to dig a big hole in the garden in which we could all hide. Then my orders where to station himself on the roof of the house (while we hid in the big hole) with a yard brush to scare, maim or kill any feverish feathered creatures that might happen to fly by.
His advice then was similar to now. His instructions were thus and were to be followed to the letter.
1. Switch off the TV
2. Wise up, shut up
3. Make him a cup of tea.
Tuesday 23 February 2010
Wednesday 17 February 2010
Parenting-related injuries
I’ve just spent the last three weeks hobbling around like a pensioner after a Caolan-induced back injury.
The child – who, by the by, when last weighed was about two and a half stone – launched himself off the kitchen counter a la Jim Morrison circa 1969 in an incredible feat of stage diving. Unfortunately the alternative to me catching him was him crashing headfirst onto a tiled floor. So a safely caught child, a slipped disc and a torturous trip to a chiropractor later I’m still here, but still wincing slightly, to tell the tale.
It made me think of all the other offspring-related injuries the husband and myself have had to endure on this rocky, Lego-covered road of parenting.
Kiddy-size Glasgow Kiss
Black eyes, facial bruises, busted lips, bloodied noses – kids from three months to three years will inflict this type of pain on their parents with their crazy floppy heads.
Stray Thrown Object Abrasion
Small children love to throw stuff, usually at their parents. Larger remote controls are favourites among the smaller generation, due to their ability to render the recipient of the blow almost unconscious, although good results have also been reported by children dropping large cars or toy laptops from great heights unto heads.
Toddler induced blindness
Beware of toddlers who like to poke fingers in eyes. Particularly dangerous are the toddlers who dupe parents into believing their only want to honk their nose (attempt to forcibly remove parent’s nose from face whilst making honking noise) but instead go in for the kill and jab sticky fingers in eye.
Plastic toy foot syndrome
Children strongly believe that sleep deprivation, poking fingers in eyes and lobbing large objects is not torture enough. Offspring often place small plastic toys at strategic places around the home, particularly stairs, particularly at night, to bring on the common complaint of stray-Lego foot syndrome. Stepping on said objects in bare feet and the consequent hopping around, often whilst using choice language, can often bring about….
Offspring-induced back pain
All parents suffer from this affliction at some stage. Unlike other ailments, which come and go with the various stages of childhood, back pain can be constant and inflicted by children from newborn age (wrestling with the baby car seat) – to five year olds (stage diving off kitchen counters).
Infant-induced insanity
Affects all parents. Three hours sleep across the course of three days will leave even the sound of mind rather deranged. First time parents are affected more than others. Obsessing about baby’s eating/sleeping/toilet habits etc will ultimately kill your brain cells. Once a parent, human beings are incapable of thinking logically and rationally ever again.
Child-induced premature ageing
Go look in the mirror. See what I mean?
The child – who, by the by, when last weighed was about two and a half stone – launched himself off the kitchen counter a la Jim Morrison circa 1969 in an incredible feat of stage diving. Unfortunately the alternative to me catching him was him crashing headfirst onto a tiled floor. So a safely caught child, a slipped disc and a torturous trip to a chiropractor later I’m still here, but still wincing slightly, to tell the tale.
It made me think of all the other offspring-related injuries the husband and myself have had to endure on this rocky, Lego-covered road of parenting.
Kiddy-size Glasgow Kiss
Black eyes, facial bruises, busted lips, bloodied noses – kids from three months to three years will inflict this type of pain on their parents with their crazy floppy heads.
Stray Thrown Object Abrasion
Small children love to throw stuff, usually at their parents. Larger remote controls are favourites among the smaller generation, due to their ability to render the recipient of the blow almost unconscious, although good results have also been reported by children dropping large cars or toy laptops from great heights unto heads.
Toddler induced blindness
Beware of toddlers who like to poke fingers in eyes. Particularly dangerous are the toddlers who dupe parents into believing their only want to honk their nose (attempt to forcibly remove parent’s nose from face whilst making honking noise) but instead go in for the kill and jab sticky fingers in eye.
Plastic toy foot syndrome
Children strongly believe that sleep deprivation, poking fingers in eyes and lobbing large objects is not torture enough. Offspring often place small plastic toys at strategic places around the home, particularly stairs, particularly at night, to bring on the common complaint of stray-Lego foot syndrome. Stepping on said objects in bare feet and the consequent hopping around, often whilst using choice language, can often bring about….
Offspring-induced back pain
All parents suffer from this affliction at some stage. Unlike other ailments, which come and go with the various stages of childhood, back pain can be constant and inflicted by children from newborn age (wrestling with the baby car seat) – to five year olds (stage diving off kitchen counters).
Infant-induced insanity
Affects all parents. Three hours sleep across the course of three days will leave even the sound of mind rather deranged. First time parents are affected more than others. Obsessing about baby’s eating/sleeping/toilet habits etc will ultimately kill your brain cells. Once a parent, human beings are incapable of thinking logically and rationally ever again.
Child-induced premature ageing
Go look in the mirror. See what I mean?
Thursday 11 February 2010
Monsters!!!!
3am in the O'Neill house..
Caolan: ARRRGHHHHH!!!!!
Me: What? What? WHAT?
Caolan: I had a bad dream. There was a monster chasing me!
Me: What did he look like?
Caolan: He had a finger for a head, his hands were two bums and his legs where made from ice lollies.
Me: Scary
Caolan: ARRRGHHHHH!!!!!
Me: What? What? WHAT?
Caolan: I had a bad dream. There was a monster chasing me!
Me: What did he look like?
Caolan: He had a finger for a head, his hands were two bums and his legs where made from ice lollies.
Me: Scary
Tuesday 9 February 2010
Anyone for cheddar apple crumble?
This week I will be mostly eating crunched up prawn crackers mixed with sweetcorn. The weird pregnancy cravings have kicked in this past few days and I have moved on from my strict Rice Crispy cereal and fizzy water only phase to something a tad more adventurous – sweetcorn.
Look away now nutritional experts, midwives and all other medical folk who are prone to lecturing on healthy eating, but I could happily survive on sweetcorn for breakfast, lunch and dinner – don’t worry I spice it up a little with aforementioned prawn crackers and even the odd handful of rice crispies when the mood takes me.
The past three times I was pregnant I did have very odd cravings and often horrified innocent passers-by with the food on my plate.
When I was expecting my oldest son I made apple crumble in the oven for lunch before heading off for an evening shift in the Irish News. When I took the steaming, delicious desert from the over I felt something was missing from the recipe so I melted mature cheddar cheese all over the top.
It was glorious. A layer of bubbling cheese, a layer of crispy crumble, steamy apples – mouth-watering. Unfortunately I spent a vast majority of that evening shift in the ladies loos being violently ill.
Cravings with the second pregnancy were completely normal, albeit a tad excessive. Let’s just say that profits at Thornton’s Chocolates, particularly in regards to the sale of white chocolate covered truffles, went stellar in 2004. I was actually tested for gestational diabetes; such was the level of sugar in my bloodstream.
While pregnant with my youngest child I craved the smell of Savlon disinfectant liquid. I honestly felt like I could not get through the day without smelling the stuff. I was a certified Savloholic.
Much like an alcoholic hides bottles of vodka around the house, I would stash travel-size bottles of Savlon in my handbag, drawers at work, in the car glove compartment. My husband had a time confiscating them all.
My office was beside a branch of Tescos and when I went AWOL from work he’d always find me in the cleaning product isles, gripping the shelves dramatically while enthusiastically sniffing my Savlon fix.
He actually told the midwife of my shameful habit and I was told off. So instead of sniffing it I washed every inch of our house – floors, furniture, curtains, the lot – with the stuff so I could smell it all day long.
It took a long time for the smell to clear. For months we walked into our home and straight into an eye-watering-strength wall of Savlon fumes. I can’t stand the stuff now.
Who knows what this pregnancy will bring. This time everything tastes really weird – toothpaste tastes like fish, chocolate takes like those rubber PE shoes you’re made to wear at school.
Perhaps I shall favour coal stew? Perhaps, like a lot of ladies, I shall fancy a dish of washing powder or even a plateful of muck. Or perhaps I’ll just stick with what I know – cheddar apple crumble.
Look away now nutritional experts, midwives and all other medical folk who are prone to lecturing on healthy eating, but I could happily survive on sweetcorn for breakfast, lunch and dinner – don’t worry I spice it up a little with aforementioned prawn crackers and even the odd handful of rice crispies when the mood takes me.
The past three times I was pregnant I did have very odd cravings and often horrified innocent passers-by with the food on my plate.
When I was expecting my oldest son I made apple crumble in the oven for lunch before heading off for an evening shift in the Irish News. When I took the steaming, delicious desert from the over I felt something was missing from the recipe so I melted mature cheddar cheese all over the top.
It was glorious. A layer of bubbling cheese, a layer of crispy crumble, steamy apples – mouth-watering. Unfortunately I spent a vast majority of that evening shift in the ladies loos being violently ill.
Cravings with the second pregnancy were completely normal, albeit a tad excessive. Let’s just say that profits at Thornton’s Chocolates, particularly in regards to the sale of white chocolate covered truffles, went stellar in 2004. I was actually tested for gestational diabetes; such was the level of sugar in my bloodstream.
While pregnant with my youngest child I craved the smell of Savlon disinfectant liquid. I honestly felt like I could not get through the day without smelling the stuff. I was a certified Savloholic.
Much like an alcoholic hides bottles of vodka around the house, I would stash travel-size bottles of Savlon in my handbag, drawers at work, in the car glove compartment. My husband had a time confiscating them all.
My office was beside a branch of Tescos and when I went AWOL from work he’d always find me in the cleaning product isles, gripping the shelves dramatically while enthusiastically sniffing my Savlon fix.
He actually told the midwife of my shameful habit and I was told off. So instead of sniffing it I washed every inch of our house – floors, furniture, curtains, the lot – with the stuff so I could smell it all day long.
It took a long time for the smell to clear. For months we walked into our home and straight into an eye-watering-strength wall of Savlon fumes. I can’t stand the stuff now.
Who knows what this pregnancy will bring. This time everything tastes really weird – toothpaste tastes like fish, chocolate takes like those rubber PE shoes you’re made to wear at school.
Perhaps I shall favour coal stew? Perhaps, like a lot of ladies, I shall fancy a dish of washing powder or even a plateful of muck. Or perhaps I’ll just stick with what I know – cheddar apple crumble.
Tuesday 2 February 2010
O'Neill army
The O’Neill’s are building an army. Baby number four is due to arrive this July.
After coming out of the darkness of a really tough year this is a beautiful blessing for us, a true light in the dark. We couldn’t be happier. Well maybe I’d be just a tad happier if I could stomach food other than water and Rice Crispies and didn’t want to hurl when someone makes a cup of coffee within a three-mile radius.
We went for the scan last week and the doctor confirmed that the hardcore morning, noon and night sickness was indeed caused by a baby and not by a bad bout of food poisoning that had lasted for 14 weeks.
We had almost forgotten – after all it was a whole 17 months ago when we actually were down this road last – that there is so much joy to behold in pregnancy, 24-hour sickness, horrifying elasticated waistbanded Mom jeans, getting fat, not being able to properly view your feet when required, looking forward to the agonising birth, the months of sleepless nights and the wandering around zombie-like in baby-puke covered clothes for six months.
There is, of course, the wonderful side of pregnancy and new parenthood – people offering up bus seats, a gorgeously cute and deliciously sweet-scented baby as an end result and getting a licence to eat copious amounts of chocolate cake without feeling guilty.
When we arrived at the scan clinic there was a pile of folders, some skinny (for the first time Mums) some big and fat (for the veterans like me). I was embarrassed by the fact that one of the midwives knew me on sight and shouted ‘are you back already?’ up the corridor, her chuckles echoing through the waiting room.
While the first-time Mums were treated with cotton gloves and patted on the head the midwife told me that I was now a childbirth professional, to fill in the forms and just phone them and let them know when I deliver the baby so that they could update their records. They said that by this stage I should be able to have a baby myself with my eyes closed. Oh, how we all laughed.
As we already have three boys I would be thrilled to have a daughter but another boy would be wonderful too.
I remember talking with a woman in the waiting room after having a scan of our last baby. The husband and I were laughing about the fact that ours was a boy again. The lady, who’s age I would have estimated at around 50, told us that at last she was delighted to be having a girl. I asked her how many boys she had. She said nine.
Nine boys, as in one less than 10.
Nine rowdy little boys wrecking her house, drawing on her walls, feeding pot pourri to the dog, flushing her ornaments down the toilet, peeing in plant pots, demanding biscuits and fighting over the TV remote. No wonder the woman looked 50. She said she had always wanted a daughter and had kept going until she got one.
I will not be that soldier.
If God gives us another little boy I think we’ll stop there and be thankful for our blessings, which are already immense.
After coming out of the darkness of a really tough year this is a beautiful blessing for us, a true light in the dark. We couldn’t be happier. Well maybe I’d be just a tad happier if I could stomach food other than water and Rice Crispies and didn’t want to hurl when someone makes a cup of coffee within a three-mile radius.
We went for the scan last week and the doctor confirmed that the hardcore morning, noon and night sickness was indeed caused by a baby and not by a bad bout of food poisoning that had lasted for 14 weeks.
We had almost forgotten – after all it was a whole 17 months ago when we actually were down this road last – that there is so much joy to behold in pregnancy, 24-hour sickness, horrifying elasticated waistbanded Mom jeans, getting fat, not being able to properly view your feet when required, looking forward to the agonising birth, the months of sleepless nights and the wandering around zombie-like in baby-puke covered clothes for six months.
There is, of course, the wonderful side of pregnancy and new parenthood – people offering up bus seats, a gorgeously cute and deliciously sweet-scented baby as an end result and getting a licence to eat copious amounts of chocolate cake without feeling guilty.
When we arrived at the scan clinic there was a pile of folders, some skinny (for the first time Mums) some big and fat (for the veterans like me). I was embarrassed by the fact that one of the midwives knew me on sight and shouted ‘are you back already?’ up the corridor, her chuckles echoing through the waiting room.
While the first-time Mums were treated with cotton gloves and patted on the head the midwife told me that I was now a childbirth professional, to fill in the forms and just phone them and let them know when I deliver the baby so that they could update their records. They said that by this stage I should be able to have a baby myself with my eyes closed. Oh, how we all laughed.
As we already have three boys I would be thrilled to have a daughter but another boy would be wonderful too.
I remember talking with a woman in the waiting room after having a scan of our last baby. The husband and I were laughing about the fact that ours was a boy again. The lady, who’s age I would have estimated at around 50, told us that at last she was delighted to be having a girl. I asked her how many boys she had. She said nine.
Nine boys, as in one less than 10.
Nine rowdy little boys wrecking her house, drawing on her walls, feeding pot pourri to the dog, flushing her ornaments down the toilet, peeing in plant pots, demanding biscuits and fighting over the TV remote. No wonder the woman looked 50. She said she had always wanted a daughter and had kept going until she got one.
I will not be that soldier.
If God gives us another little boy I think we’ll stop there and be thankful for our blessings, which are already immense.
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