A Vintage and Delicious Sunday

Lazy Sunday Bliss

The Decadent Clontarf Castle Hotel

So I had a bit of time minus the munchkin yesterday (i.e. I escaped the house without telling anyone) and headed to the Clontarf Castle Hotel to browse the Vintage and antiques fair.

 

 

 

I am a complete domestic demon and food preparation is not one of my strong points,  this includes the presentation of food, My slop is usually accompanied by wipe marks where I have hastily tried to tidy overflowing runny gravy. 

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So to be in such beautiful surroundings with my scone presented like it was the most important feckin’ scone in the land was a real treat. The decor is, decadent boudoir meets medieval fairytale castle. Very whimsical and impressive. I want to own every fixture in the place. From the amazing red chandeliers and fairy tale thrones to the knights in shining armor, I think I would like to live here please!! I did try alas in vain to stuff an ornate purple velvet sofa into my bag.

 

The vintage and antiques fair is definitely worth a look but not suitable for sticky fingers and terror toddlers. Lots of glass and sharp objects make Lenny a very inquisitive boy. There are some lovely stalls with various vintage pieces for sale.. jewelry, ornaments, clothes and books. Got me a gorgeous new vintage bag, circa 1950’s real leather, €15 = Happy MammyDrama 🙂

 

It’s certainly beginning to look a lot like Christmas at the Clontarf Castle Hotel. Massive bedecked trees and twinkly lights everywhere. I shall be spending many an evening there, drinking Irish Coffee and mulled wine (one in each hand), getting jolly and singing Jingle Bells in the magnificent foyer.

I would definitely recommend the Clontarf Castle for a lazy Sunday treat, a getaway, alone, with littlies or for an evening of romance (Do they exist?) 

Now, any babysitters available??

🙂 xx

* This is not a sponsored post I just loved the place 🙂

http://www.facebook.com/ClontarfCastleHotel

http://www.facebook.com/mammydrama

 

 

Hospital Heartbreak.

Creepy Hospital Artwork

Having a sick baby in hospital has been to date one of the most awful experiences of my life. The emotional torture outweighed even the pain of childbirth (Sorry Mums to be!!) Last week my poor Lenny was hospitalized for pneumonia for four days. Here’s a little about our experience;

Babies are such incredible creatures of extremity, on Monday morning he had a little cough, by lunchtime his temperature had shot up faster than his temper flairs when he wants to play the talking car app on my iPad. One moment he was the energetic little human wrecking ball that I have come to rather adore and the next he was a sickly unresponsive ball of wheeze, fever and tears.

By tears I don’t just mean Lenny’s, I cried like a useless whimpering sentimental idiot from the moment we entered the hospital. Initially, everything about his state made me feel helpless, useless and an utter emotional wreck. Seeing his little body in a big old hospital bed started the hot fat tears rolling down my face. I bawled when they put the drip in his arm, the sight of my little bruiser with an oxygen mask on his face made my heart hurt, his sweat matted hair was cause for howls reminiscent of a Sean O’Casey Play. I know this blog is called Mammy Drama but this was ridiculous.

When the initial flurry and fluster of his admittance to the hospital had subsided and we were happy in the knowledge that although a sick Babe he was, there was no question that his ailments would be cured in a few days.It was then that my brain began to return to some semblance of rational thinking and thinking I did for what having a poorly kid in hospital does do is make you think.. think think bloody think. Think and observe. In fact since Lenny was born, I don’t think I have ever sat still in the same chair for quite so long. I read entire magazines from cover to cover, checked my emails without my iPhone being snatched from my hand with brute force and chucked down the loo. I thought about the doom and gloom scenarios that being surrounded by sick children in a hospital inevitably makes you think.I thought about how lucky I am to have a boy that in a few days is going to be absolutely fine. I thought about how much I work and contemplated giving it all up to be a stay at home Mum (this thought was very fleeting and I dismissed it with a shudder after a few minutes). I thought about the kid in the next bed who was called, ‘Daniel O Donnel and how crazy it would be if the nurse pulled back the curtains and there lying in the bed was the lego haired crooner from Donegal, snuggled into his Mammy’s breast straining a few bars of ‘Hello Mary Lou’ in a ‘calling in sick today’ voice. I also got to thinking about our surroundings, for the dismal walls of Lennys tiny little cell were all I had to look at while my babe slept.

Now I am a fan of all things Victoriana… Bustle skirts, frilly umbrellas, decorative bird cages etc but NOT Hospitals. The hospital which I won’t name is a dated and flaking building. The staff were absolutely incredible and subjecting them to work in such Crumbling surroundings is an insult to their excellent credentials and abilities.The split and cracked flagstone flooring, Tim Burton-esque Murals on the wall, enormous beige Religious effigies and peeling paint on the interiors does not really equate to a place of great clinical healing and hygiene. Note to the government: If you had spent a little of that alleged 30 million that you frittered away ‘discussing’ the placement of a new children’s hospital and paying your buddies to write reports about reports, on a fresh paint job and an update, the hospital would be a less macabre maze. A few changes to the overall appearance of the place may instill a sense of optimism upon arriving rather than an awful sense that one has just entered a Bedlam of porta-cabins. Again may I just give a massive cheer to the brilliant staff on the frontline of the Irish healthcare system and how sad is it that the hospital has to rely on raffles and charity events to fund what is the responsibility of our inept and bumbling Government. Come on Ireland!!

Anyhow, Lenny has well and truly recovered. As I said, creatures of extremity and fortunately as quickly as he fell ill, he also recovered at the same rapid pace. He fought that darn infection from every cell of his body and on his final day in the hospital to the joy of his poor sleep deprived on-duty daddy.. returned to his former little lovable Brat self. In the style of Bruce Banner to the Incredible Hulk, he had a surge of good health and strength (at 1 am in the morning) ripped his drip out (twice!) threw every unsecured object from his cot, danced like an overzealous hippy at woodstock, flicked the light on and off (A touch of dramatic lighting of which I am quite proud ) and whacked the wall so much that his cot had to be moved to the centre of the room.

I arrived the next morning to a frustrated but much better Lennon, sitting legs through the bars of his cot like a prisoner awaiting parole oh and a Daddy that looked ready to collapse from exhaustion. I realized then that things had returned to normal and we had our little monster back in fighting form.

Just Made Parole

Heres my survival guide for Parents spending time nursing sick children,

You WILL Need

• An iPad or portable DVD player, equipped with at least 4 hours of footage. Lenny’s preference being.. Cars, Peppa Pig and In the Night Garden. Owing to my sons appalling taste in t.v shows, I would also advise earphones and a supply of music and podcasts for Parents.
• Lots and lots of snacks for yourself, bottles of water etc (there is no feeding of parents in hospital)
• A sense of humor, being in Hospital is truly a miserable experience for all involved
• Some very lovely family members to give you a break so that you can get some well needed rest.
• A crucifix for when your little one returns to their former self.

I am delighted to say that I now have my toddler 100% back to himself and he has just completed a crayola masterpiece on the white wall of my sitting room (Well even Banksy had to start somewhere). So all is back to normal in these parts.

Thanks so Much for Listening, I have posted a link below to what I think is an incredible cause for a special little girl.

https://www.facebook.com/asongforlilymae

xx

Sarah and Lenny

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Mummy Pleads Guilty

Mothers Are all Slightly Insane’… J.D. Salinger

As I write my first entry, it is 10.30pm and Lenny has been asleep in HIS OWN BED for at least 3 hours now… optimism courses through my veins as the prospect of a night’s sleep minus a toe up my nose, may become a blissful reality… My little bedmate Lenny is in fact a 20 month old toddler with a penchant for sleeping in a horizontal position (usually with an arrogant ‘I rule the world’ smirk across his beautiful little mouth). This is a habit acquired in the last 10 months or so, prior to that he slept snuggly in his cot.

When initially reading baby rearing publications on the matter, there were often severe warnings in bold lettering with harsh statements..’ DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ALLOW YOUR CHILD TO SHARE YOUR BED… THE LATTER SHALL CAUSE IMMINENT DOOM AND IRREVOCABLE DAMAGE’. Statements leaning towards one feeling, GUILT!!!

This brings me onto the subject of guilt, Along with the arrival of your little bundle of joy comes the arrival of overwhelming, massive all consuming feelings of guilt. Guilt about everything, Guilt in the morning, guilt in the evening, Guilt in the afternoon. I have never experienced this emotion to such astonishing levels. I have always been quite a confident and self assured person, never in a million years did I ever conceive that such a small being could reduce me to such a quivering wreck of self doubt.

I know that the guilt feelings are just side affects of human nature, the instincts to love, protect, care for and nurture our babe can make an imperfect woman such as myself question ones abilities to do the simplest thing like, how to correctly cleanse the man parts of my baby without causing their willy to explode (to make matters worse, Lennon did actually get an infected hoo haa.. Oops He’s gonna kill me when he gets older)

A couple of my nagging guilts in the past few months

Most nights he sleeps in our bed…I leave him (Against his iron will) while I go to work… Chocolate has passed his lips on several occasions… I don’t always cook his meals from scratch… He is rather too fond of his soother… He doesn’t socialize with enough kids his own age… Peppa Pig is like some mystical being with the power to entrance my child for just enough time for me to check my Facebook page… I don’t do flashcards/ baby Einstein on a regular basis… I don’t wear a pinny and do 1950′s housewife things like bake brownies with him. The most irrational and recent guilty feeling is the procrastinating over assembling an electric drum kit that he loves so much following a move, I began to worry that it would mess up his ability to appreciate music, rhythms and beats for life.. HE’S A BABY AND I’M CRAZY AAAAAHHH!!!

The list is infinite

However, He is slowly starting to move into his own bed, I don’t think the nights snuggled up together have done him too much damage. If I didn’t work, I would definitely be a less fulfilled person and I want to lead by demonstration that you gotta work hard to achieve your goals. He eats healthily most of the time and I don’t want to make chocolate such a thing of mystery that he is inclined to binge on banned junk later on in life (As His Mamma did). He is learning at his own pace with encouragement but without pressure, Our house is like a train station with visitors so I think he is gonna be able to hold his own in a crowd.

What I most definitely do do right is love the little dude with every millimeter of my being. So as Lenny grows and develops into a perfect, happy, contented little boy, these feelings are starting to dissipate (thank goodness). When I look into his perfect little face and he babbles away happily I realize that I/We must be doing something right.

The one thing that I may work on though is the 1950′s housewife look, I’ve always wanted to wear a polka dot pinny and have some incredible Irregular Choice shoes to match!!

So I continue on my journey as a Mamma, making mistakes, learning and being imperfect.

But Then again What is perfect??

xx

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