No Party Like An Irish Party

In four days time, Ireland will vote on the marriage referendum. Rather than tell you how I feel about the referendum and why I am voting yes, the following guest post is written by a pretty, witty and gay  friend of mine on how she is feeling this week.



Like most people at this stage, I just want this referendum to be over. The majority want it to be over because they are suffocating from the overload of opinions and coverage that this marriage equality referendum is creating. I want it to be over because for me, personally, it’s been an emotional roller coaster.

On one hand, I feel so hopeful and excited that this small country that I love will be the first to let the people vote on marriage equality for same-sex couples. On the other hand, I have found the debate patronising and even humiliating to a point.

At times, it feels like I’m standing awkwardly beside a group of people who I’m very fond of and have never offended as they openly discuss the pros and cons of whether I should be invited to a party with them or not. Feeling that exposed can be uncomfortable and slightly wounding.  (Now to be fair, if this was a real life situation I probably could appreciate the cons of my attendance because many a time I have inadvertently run amok at a party but that’s beside the point)

A group is not deciding whether I am worthy enough to attend a party, my country is deciding whether I am worthy enough to enjoy the same equal rights as everyone else.

Despite the confusion and distraction that the Brigade of the “Down With This Sort of Thing” has showered us with, I am hopeful that everyone is informed enough to know that this referendum has nothing to do with surrogacy, adoption, religious marriage or parenting. Heterosexual couples may rest assured that they will not be forced to adopt random gay people and be compelled to engage in polite chit-chat over breakfast every morning for the rest of their lives. That would just be uncomfortable for all of us. This referendum is about one simple thing and that is whether two people in love in Ireland may enjoy the constitutional protection of marriage.

Like many gay people, I have struggled privately with the self-inflicted shame of my identity and have often lacked a sense of belonging because I was aware that I was slightly outside the circle of the “norm”. Unlike some, I’m blessed by the support of a very open-minded family.

Also, Irish society has evolved so quickly that I take great solace in believing that future generations of gay people in Ireland won’t suffer the same self-doubt and feeling of exclusion that was par for the course before.

I am a mother, a daughter, a sister and a friend but most significantly I am Irish just like you. Amongst thousands and thousands of other Irish people I have to wait in anticipation until the weekend to find out if my country will extend the reassuring and accepting hand of equality to me. I just want this referendum to be over so I can sit back, breath, absorb and hopefully enjoy history in the making. So for the love of God please just invite me to the bloody party by answering with one simple word that niggling question I have; am I equal?




Dublin Can Be Heaven……….Child Friendly Dublin

I read this piece on Office Mum this morning about whether Ireland is child friendly. Everyone experiences are different, for me, its a yes.

RTEmagicP_Dublin-DoorsI’m a true blue. Dublin, is my home, it always has been. I know Dublin. I had to rediscover Dublin as a parent and I have never been let down. Don’t get me wrong, I can bitch and moan as good as anyone, yes things can be expensive, yes house prices make my heart break, yes you can always find something to give out about but there is a whole lot of good here too.

From my house its a ten minute drive to the heart of the Dublin mountains, in twenty minutes we can be on the coast. The city centre is 30 minutes away. We live in a typical subarban estate but there are parks, there are libraries, there is good decent public transport, there are improving bike lanes. Is Dublin child friendly? I really think it is.

My Dublin ten years ago was where is a good place to drink, what restaurant first. where is the best spot to find a taxi at 4am? My Dublin, as a child, is still there and now I get to rediscover it as a parent and an improved Dublin from a child’s perspective because Dublin woke up and realised children are its citizens too.

The national museums and art galleries  all cater for the smaller visitor with activity packs, art supplies, workshops and more. The Science Gallery and Imma too. The three Dublin county councils run a host of activities and free events throughout the year – treasure hunts, outdoor movies, halloween events, Christmas markets, outdoor music and drama events and festivals. Libraries with huge children’s sections that also run regular events. All free. The parks across Dublin which boast upgraded and brilliant playgrounds.  Swimming pools, cinemas that now offer booster seats so small children can see the movie. Play centres the bane of your life when you have a toddler and have to squeeze up a tunneled slide to rescue a stuck 2-year-old ( happened me at 9 months pregnant) that become a place of loveliness when your kids are old enough to play without your help and you can sit and read a book, once you tune out the noise. Bowling, trampolining, the national aquatic centre,The Ark,  Zip Lining up the mountains, the zoo. If you want a day out with kids , your options are huge and varied with options for all budgets.

Then there are the constants, the Dublin I enjoyed as a child that my children enjoy now- Dun Laoghaire Pier, the seals at Howth, the dart along the coastline, the busker’s on Grafton street, the climb to the Hellfire Club,  the botanic gardens,watching the planes on the old airport road,the panto at Christmas,buying fruit on Moore Street,  chasing the tide on Sandymount Stand. Dublin that is steeped in history personal and national . The bullet marks that remain in the walls of the GPO, the crypts at St Michans , Kilmainham gaol, places I learned about Dublin’s history from my granddad’s as a child  on day’s out, all there waiting to be revisited and seen through my children’s eyes, now.


Then there all the places of personal history too- my children can point out the bench in St Stephens Green where their Dad asked me to marry him and the one beside it where their Grandad asked their Nana to marry him. They know not to stand too close to the pond when feeding the ducks, because they know the story of my sister forgetting to let go of the bread and falling into the duck pond . They know the chapel in the centre of the city where  their Dad and I got married. All their history.

Everytime I went out with my Grandparents when I was child, they bought me a book. We spent hours in Waterstones, Easons on O’Connell St and Hodges and Figgis. Dubray Books on Grafton St is one of my favourite bookshops now. My eldest daughters too. She can’t pass it without asking to go in. It brings me right back to when I used to stroll around town with my Nana and Grandad as a small child. The bookshops were always the best bit.

My Grandad and I. St Stephen's Green. 1981 ish

My Grandad and I. St Stephen’s Green. 1981 ish

I have had never had a problem finding somewhere family friendly to eat in Dublin. There are too many restaurants to mention and restaurants too have copped that children are customers too. No longer do kids meals consist of just sausage and chips or chicken and chips. Of course there are many restaurants that aren’t child friendly but there is enough choice ,that is fine with me. There are places I wouldn’t bring my children to eat and there are places on the rare occasion, I get to eat out without them, that I don’t want to listen to other people’s kids. Some places are not buggy friendly but I have never had a restaurant refuse to store a buggy at the door for me. I have breast-fed all over Dublin and never had a rude remark. I know this is not the experience of everyone, but it is mine. I have always found Irish people to  be child friendly. Of course there are assholes who will tut or sigh at times but there are assholes everywhere whether you areout with children or without them. And for every asshole I have met, I have met 100 other people who have smiled at my kids, held open a door for me or picked up a dropped teddy bear or coat when my hands were full.



We have had so many tourist at home days in Dublin. Getting the bus into town where you can’t get the correct change ready because it’s the bus fare for children depends on the driver and the ticket price is never the same on the return journey. We have done the Viking Splash and shouted at randomer’s on the street, we have taken boats on the Liffey and learned about the history under the bridges. Last Summer we took a boat trip around Dublin Bay. Dublin looks magnificent from the sea just as it always does when you come into land over Portmarnock on a clear day.

Am I  romanticising parts above? Perhaps. I love my city though. I forget that sometimes and need to fall in love with it again. Of course it’s not all good. My children don’t see people falling around drunk and vomiting in the streets at 3am but they do see the city’s  homeless every time we are in town and have seen people begging, children begging. You can’t hide the bad and the sad in the world from them.  There are lots of things that are wrong with Dublin but there are a whole lot of things that are right too. Businesses and amenities have adapted to become child friendly, we have the sea, we have the mountains and everything in between. The above is just a snapshot of Dublin and all that is good there.  If you have had a bad experience in one restaurant or one event please don’t write off Dublin as not for children, give it another try. Dublin is child friendly, you just have to go out and find it.


photo credit: Cian Ginty via photopin cc

photo credit: Jim Nix / Nomadic Pursuits via photopin cc

photo credit: mirkuz via photopin cc

Do Not Ever Buy A Car With Four Children In Tow

Things that are difficult to do with four children. Part one………..

images (2)

Last week we got a new car. Well actually its more of a bus than a car. 7 seaters are ugly cars unless you have mega bucks to spend. We did not. Despite knowing since last year that we would need a 7 seater, we only got one last week. The new child was 6 weeks old and we were still unable to go out all together so really I was desperate, my requirements were downgraded down to it must have 7 seats and move. So the husband went out and bought one last weekend,it met my not so strict requirements and was ready to collect last Monday.


The morning was pretty stressful. Firstly the garage, in which the husband had bought the car, were not answering their phone and my insurance brokers systems were down so I spent three hours continuously ringing the garage with breaks to text the husband asking did he think the garage owner had run off to start a new life in the Caribbean with our money ( or on a day trip on a ferry since we didn’t have the mega bucks to spend). Eventually got sorted, garage owner had not left the country, garage still existed, insurance broker finally transferred my insurance, stress headache eased slightly and off we set to get our new car. Me and the four children.


Found the garage finally in the middle of an industrial estate off the motorway. Saw car. Little part of my soul crumpled up and died. Car was hideous. However we would all fit in it so I got over the fact that it was an ugly bus. Loaded all four kids out of car we were trading in. Walked into the garage, found owner, he dismissed me and told me he would be with me in a few minutes. Traipsed back out to the garage forecourt. The sun came out. Blinding hot sun on a concrete garage forecourt. Many “few minutes” passed. I was carrying the baby in the car seat and trying to keep the other three from running out in front of other cars. We waited. It got hotter. There was no shade. We got back into our old car. It was like a sauna, we got out again. I went back in. The man dismissed me again. It then dawned on me who the man looked and sounded like. Fran from Love/Hate. If you don’t watch it, Love Hate – it is an Irish crime/drama tv series. Fran is a junkie, criminal, madman. This is who the man resembled. I am not going to lie, the man kind of scared me slightly so I didn’t really want to start complaining about the delay. Well not to him anyway. So I started complaining to the husband,who was sitting in his air-conditioned office, as his family sweltered on a dodgy garage forecourt, via text. The text conversation went like this:

Me: Why have we bought a car from Fran from Love Hate?

Husband: Jaysus, that is who he looks like.

7 more texts from me about how rude the man was, how hot it was and other things the husband could do fuck all about. His response…

Talk to him about dogs. Fran likes dogs. Or gear. Talk about dogs and drugs to him.


Fran from Love Hate AKA Garage man

Fran from Love Hate AKA Garage man

The children were now quite red in the face and I could feel sweat running down my back. Another man appeared and started washing the wheels of the new car. I went over and told him it was grand, to leave it and that I just wanted to go.

Original garage man appeared and told me he could talk to me now. So we all followed him back in. He gave me a key. Took the key of my car and went to dismiss me again. I had some questions. He had no interest in talking to me. Clearly one of those types – I am man. I deal with other man when selling cars, bangs chest, type of man. I had no energy left to deal with this. I took the key, we all walked back out. Removed three car seats from old car. Tried to carry four car seats, one with baby in it and keep eye on three children in the sweltering heat across the garage. Kids helpfully tried to carry car seats. Dropped them. One of backs of one of the seats detached from the bottom part. I fought back tears.


The other man was still fiddling around washing the car. I again told him it was fine. He started mumbling something about maths. I looked on blankly. He repeated his mumblings about maths. I ignored him and started loading children and car seats into new car. He mentioned maths again. I came to conclusion this was garage slang for paying the balance for the car or something. He then came out carrying mats for the car. Obviously that made a lot more fucking sense. So I’m climbing around this new car/bus sweat pouring off me trying to fix seat and seatbelts and finally got the older children sorted. The baby started crying as a result my boobs started leaking. I am a soaking sweaty mess at this stage with ginormous wet patches over my boobs and just want to get out of this hell hole garage. I put the key in the ignition. Nothing happens. Nada. I can’t go back into rude man. I ring the husband, unsurprisingly, he is fuck all use to me. I go back into the rude gangster resembling garage man- the walking sweating example of why he doesn’t like to deal with women.

“Eh I cant get the car started” I say desperately trying to cover my milk soaked tshirt with my hands.

He rambles off a list of instructions about immobilisers, clicking key three-quarters, do the macerena and the car will start. I nod blankly and go back to car. Inside of car now resembles a furnace. I find a switch but all it does is make the wing mirrors move into a closed position. At this point I was willing to walk away. Man who I thought was obsessed with maths reappears , he shows me how to TURN MY OWN CAR ON. I am not even embarrassed, I have gone too far past that point. The car starts. The windows open and we leave garage. Not a drop of petrol in car. I call garage man many many names. The children learn many many new swear words. We drive around industrial estate in circles as I try to avoid motorway to find somewhere to get petrol. The kids helpfully point out “Mammy , look there’s the garage” “as I drive past the garage a third time.

” There it is again Mammy”

” Look Mammy there is the asshole man in the garage”

Garage man who resembles junkie gangster most likely shaking his head, his opinion that he should only deal with men when dealing cars, validated, the prick. I finally find a way out , we get petrol, we get ice cream, we get home in our new bus.

Worst two hours, so far, as a mother of four. Top tips- don’t buy cars from men who resemble dodgy fictional criminals and NEVER go and pick up a new car on a hot day with four children, it is no fun, no fun at all.

The Summer The Age Gap Came Good

Its like somebody flicked a switch yesterday and autumn is here.  As well as the  days and days of proper sunshine and heat in Ireland another remarkable thing happened here this Summer, the age gap between my children came good.

Summer 1

There are 3 years and 9 months between my children. Not the smallest gap but small enough. The first year of the youngest’s life is a bit of a blur and the three and a half years since have been busy. Despite the small gap between them their individual needs were very different and I regularly felt pulled in several different directions. Then this Summer something clicked. The age gap seemed to shrink and suddenly the three of them were on the same wavelength.

The imaginary games no longer needed my referring, there wasn’t so much debate and reasoning over what movie to watch or what book to read. They have always gotten on brilliantly but this Summer they clicked. There were times when I felt almost redundant. They spoke about things over dinner I knew nothing about and laughed at their private jokes that I was not privy too. They  started to sort out their own disagreements. They played and played and played.

They don’t always come into our room now in the morning when they wake, I wake up to the sound of their chatter as they lie in their beds. They call out for each other as often as they call out for me now.

I didn’t have their friends over as much this Summer as before because they were happy and content in each others company. School is only back a week but already you can see their lives drifting back off to their intertwined but individual paths. The spell  weakened not broken as the weather gets cooler and their separate schools, classrooms, routines and activities take up their time. They hugged each other every morning as they left each other at their individual school gates each morning this week and asked each other genuine questions about their days when they were all home together again. This makes my heart hurt a little bit. In a good way.

Heat and the time when the age gap paid off, these are my memories of this Summer. I think my children made life long memories this Summer too. I hope they have so many more like it.

What I Have Learnt In My 30s

It was my birthday earlier this month. I am 35. I like this age. In fact I like my thirties. I think its my favourite decade so far for a number of reasons. The main reason is I have developed a much stronger sense of couldn’t carelessness especially with regards what others may think of me, that I was lacking when I was younger. It really does make life easier. It is my favourite thing about my 30s.

not a single fuck

Here are  some others things I do now that I would never have done in my twenties and things I have learned in my 30s.

  • I do not try to hide my singing and dancing in the car. If someone in the next line of traffic sees me, I smile at them instead of pretending I wasn’t singing aloud to gangsta rap.
  • I talk to strangers more. I randomly start chatting to people in queues and in shops.
  • I have a much greater respect for coffee and its importance in life.
  • I understand the importance of a decent bra.
  • I have been known to wear track suit bottoms outside the house and the sky did not fall in. For outside wear in emergency purposes only, of course.
  • Heels are over rated. It’s ok for comfort to trump additional height.
  • It is better to answer blocked numbers on the phone and be honest with financial institutions that you owe money to. Ignoring them does not make them go away.
  • Naps are a thing of beauty.
  • You are responsible for your own happiness.
  • Quickies are not a bad thing.
  • Good eyebrows can act like a mini face lift.
  • Shots should only be drunk sparingly and on special occasions, if ever.
  • If you’re not happy, say it. People are not mind readers.
  • Depression is a lot more common than I thought.
  • If you need help, ask for it. It wont always be offered.
  • Marriage is more about compromise than fairy tales and that is a good thing.
  • Sometimes being handed dinner and promised a sleep in is as romantic as fuck.
  • Good friends should never be taken for granted and that its ok if you don’t see your friends every week, they are still your friends.
  • Sometimes you just need to spend €40 on new pyjamas, hair bobbins and a top you may never wear In Penneys and the world will look brighter again.
  • Nobody really gives a fiddlers what you look like on the beach, only you.
  • The importance of counting blessings.


What’s on your list?

It All Adds Up



My two eldest children are back to school next week. The cost of uniforms, books, shoes and everything else comes in at just under €1000. For two small children. We have spread the cost over the last few months school costs June, books July, uniform and shoes , August.

Uniforms, school books, stationary, bags, lunch boxes, school contribution, socks, runners, we will hold off until October to buy new coats. The costs go up every year.

I was going through their school books the other evening. I bought the exact same set of books for my daughter two years ago as I did for my son this year. Next year I will buy a third set of the same books. They are all workbooks, they cannot be passed down.

This is the first year neither of my children will be taught in a prefab building. Fingers crossed next year, the building of their new school will be complete and none of them will be taught in a prefab again. The school have been fighting and fund raising for this building since the 1970s.

back to school 1

My school bill could be cheaper but it’s often a false economy buying cheaper uniform items or shoes as ,I have found, they do not last and need to be replaced within weeks. It all adds up. We have two incomes, we have paid for almost all the back to school costs now, the car tax will have to wait another month though, again.

What about people without two incomes though or without any income? The Back to School allowance is available to those in receipt of qualifying welfare payments. The rate is €100 per child for children aged 4-11 years and €200 for children aged 12 +. That will not go far. My small children cost almost 1k for two, a child starting secondary schools uniform, books and extras can cost double or even triple that.

There are children who will start school next week and their parents will go hungry to ensure they have everything they need. There are children who will start school next week without everything they need. There are children who will start school next week hungry.

This is the free education all children of Ireland are entitled too.



Again, I appreciate, I am in a much more fortunate position than many, the back to school costs are increasing each year but we are managing. Something else is falling down the list of things that need to be paid though as a result.

Surely savings can be made somewhere. Would a universal book rental scheme for school going children be that hard to organise? Do small children need two uniforms per week? My children wear a crested uniform three days per week and a crested track suit the other two days. Could junior classes not just wear the track suit? Is a tax credit for parents with school going children against education costs too impossible to implement?

I have friends who look forward to their children starting school so their childcare bill will be reduced or ended. Sorry to burst the bubble but you still need childcare if your children are in school even if you work part-time or term time. You also need a flexible employer. Thankfully I have one. I am lucky. I can work around school meetings and plays and masses. I can run if the school phones if one of my children are sick. I can take a half day if the school has a half day. I still need childcare though and I work part-time. I am lucky though, very few parents have this flexibility.The costs continue. The taxes keep climbing.

Via mindmillion

Via mindmillion

The out goings wont stop next week. September also heralds the return to extra curricular activities. I know and appreciate these are optional extras but I want my children to learn to swim or to engage in team sports. I choose for my children to do these activities. They do not have to. Even with two incomes coming into the household we will have to let the kids choose one activity to partake in. One each because despite the two incomes, that is all we can afford, after all we have corrupt banks, ex politicians and bondholders to support.

So everything will be paid for we will sit back and breathe for a bit but the requests will come home from school regularly. Please pay X amount by Friday for this that and the other. Fundraising please pay X per child. I do not blame the school, the school relies heavily on fund-raising as their budgets have been slashed too. Its more money though that has to be found from somewhere and the back of mind when I get these requests from the school with really short notice, I always think, well there must be one family reading this note that this will be the straw that breaks them. It wont be me but there for but the grace of god go I, it might be me in the future. How do we fix this? How do we make all these costs more manageable?

My youngest daughter starts here ECCE free preschool year next week. The free preschool year is one of the rare great legacies from the Fianna Fail era. This will be my third child to avail of free preschool. My eldest daughter only got it for a few months as she was in preschool when it started. It is a brilliant initiative. Every child in Ireland is entitled to a year of free preschool. Wouldn’t it be great if every child in Ireland was entitled to free education until they are 18 and something could be fixed as the current system is broken. Until then I will go back to watering my money tree and hope it starts to grow soon.

23 Things That Annoy Me Greatly

I am listing all the things that are currently annoying me in the hope that it will be cathartic and they wont bother me as much anymore. This list is not definitive. It is just what is bothering me right now. They are mostly of a first world nature. You have been warned.

  1. The friendly and helpful man in my local shop who read my name on my debit card , decided to shorten it and call me this version of my name every time I am in the shop. Every. Time.
  2. Facebook check-ins. Especially this month. ” xxx checked in at Porto Banus” “xxx checked in at Terminal 2- Vegas Baby” ” xxx checked in at some hugely expensive bar because despite having children they can still afford expensive cocktails and have regular babysitters” The last one comes with accompanying photograph of expensive cocktail. When I am sitting on my couch in my jammies on another Friday night I do not find Facebook check-ins entertaining.

    Once you are male


  3. Siri- Its a sexist pig. Anytime I try to ask it something, the result – “I am sorry I do not understand the question“. If the husband asks Siri anything it produces the answer. As well as being misogynist it randomly shouts “I am sorry I do not understand” at 3am and scares the crap out of me.
  4. Clothes manufacturers – hot pants and sequins and slash necks and inappropriate words on children’s clothes. My daughter is 7. She goes to the park. She does not got to nightclubs.
  5. People who stand too close to me in a queue. I do not enjoy anyone breathing on my neck especially not strangers in a queue.
  6. People who skip queues. I would rather they stay behind me and breathe on me than skip me.
  7. Pat Kenny.
  8. Revenue – stop taking so much of our money. It is destroying my soul.
  9. When you buy an Aero in the shop and its be sitting beside the mint Aero’s so the mintiness escapes its packaging and seeps into your regular Aero leaving a minty taste. Mint has no business in chocolate. It is not enough that I can ignore mint chocolate bars as the mintiness spreads. If mint chocolate must exist it really should have its own separate shelf in the shop.


    Via WiseChoiceuk

  10. Mumford and Sons.
  11. The sound my coffee machine makes sometimes in the morning when the air escapes. It is the sound of a small demon screaming inside the machine. Terrifies me every time.
  12. People rubbing their eyes so much there is a noise. The noise of squelchy eyeballs. Don’t do it.
  13. People trying to sell me Sky television or to switch electricity provider at the door. I will never buy anything at the door. Go away. Special shout out to the persistent salesman who suggested he talk to my husband instead of me. I loved him.
  14. Hotels in Ireland who cannot comprehend the idea of a hotel room for a family of five.
  15. PMT. It’s horrific. Every month. Horrific. Horrific for everyone involved. Those with PMT and those who have to live with person with PMT and when it finally goes its replaced with the menopause. Something to look forward to……
  16. Shampoo advertising. The models have a host of hair stylists. Unless you have a host of hair stylists your hair is not going to look like theirs. Yet I still fall for the stupid
  17. Nits.
  18. Changing bed covers. My arms are too short. I cannot do it. The duvet cover does not go on properly and I cannot stretch my arms.
  19. Strangers who ask me are all these kids mine. I only have three. Surely it is not a stretch to believe they are all mine.
  20. Wonky Trolleys. Worse when you go to the supermarket and have no coin for the trolleys. You spend ten minutes trying to source a euro coin. You get one. You get trolley then bam its a wonky trolley. Joy and relief to frustration in seven seconds.
  21. Yogurt. Its the thickness of it. It makes me uncomfortable.
  22. People who complain about Ryanair. They charge for luggage and food, that is why your flight was €12. Accept and move on or pay the extra and fly with another airline.
  23. When banks or other people ring you and then ask you 700 “security questions” . I answer them because I’m not confrontational but I always want to reply with “you rang me asshole”

The End.

First world problems , I know, but its good to get things off your chest, no? Feel free to share your annoyances rational or irrational, it might make you feel better……

Swimming Against The Tide

I try hard to be positive. Things will get better. Onwards and Upwards. This too will pass. Its taking its sweet time though  passing, isn’t it?

Every month the wages run out quicker than the month before.  Everything seems more expensive as each month goes on. The grocery bill creeps up that little bit more each month. Another hike is announced for gas. The car tax runs out but its back to school time so despite trying to spread the cost of books and uniforms and subscriptions to the school that aren’t really voluntary over a number of months, the amount over the months is high. So the car tax gets pushed back another month or two or three. The car continues to make a weird noise but there’s no money to bring it to the garage so the radio is turned up higher when driving to drown out the noise that shouldn’t be there and while ignoring the sound, I ignore the service light and petrol light too, most of the time.

There are worse off than me. Thousands worse off than me. I know that. I appreciate that. Doesn’t mean  that some days I nearly feel like drowning in my lists of things that need to be bought or paid for or that some months there is a lot more going out and coming in no matter how hard I do the figures, they still don’t add up.

Like I said most days I am positive but some days its hard to be. I look at payslips and see how much revenue take from them. We earn, what many people would consider a decent household income, every month though it runs out.  I throw another unopened bill onto the bookshelf to be dealt with later. I block it out on days like this and deal with it on days where it looks brighter.

This is my down day and this is my rant. I miss treats. I miss treats for me. Call me fickle and selfish  but I miss the hairdressers and I miss restaurants and I miss new clothes and I wish I was going on holiday. Its my rant, I know there are worse than me but just for today I’m missing being able to buy a magazine or fresh flowers, just for the hell of it. People will read this who are a lot worse of than me.  I am missing the hairdressers and people are struggling to feed their children. I know how that reads but  its my dark day.I will get paid this week and be able to shop and pay my utility bills and and have a treat or two. There are thousands who won’t. I know that. I know in the grand scheme of things I am fortunate and blessed, doesn’t mean though that I can’t have a dark day.

My kids want for nothing. That is the main thing. Even in the middle of my dark days I am always grateful for that.

Tomorrow is another day. This too shall pass. Onwards and upwards. Right?


Via Ragerlaw