Our Man returns home

July 2010

The Children

After months - 5 months to be precise - the Man of our house is home from his Monday - Friday life away from us. Previous to this stint, he was abroad for 6 months so we have not had a normal life for 15 months. We are a bit war-torn from the struggle without him. I am anyway. The children somehow have got into the habit of always complaining, whinging and bickering with me or with each other. I blame myself. I am a bit whingy and bickery myself. And as I said in the previous post, kids just emulate what they see.

We have been juggling a lot. I would love to have been brave enough to ditch the job for this period. But I wasn't.

Since I finished work in June for the summer, I have made a monumental effort to try and over-ride this unfortunate pattern. I have been calm. I have given good example. Most of the time. But the ease with which we slipped into this habit of living, is a much greater struggle from which to climb.

No3 is responding fairly well. She is young and she wants to be a good girl. In fact, she never loses and opportunity to point out how well she is doing when one of the boys is struggling. No1 can be so nasty to his smaller brother. Yet, when I reason with him he understands why he should not behave in this way. In theory he responds, in practice I find myself reiterating the same thing again and again. I know that some of this is just sharpening their social teeth but it is wearing and sends us on that negative spiral. No2 is the tell-tale, the autocratic dispenser of 'The Rules' (which apply to everyone else except himself) and the howler.

Each one of these children have so many beautiful characteristics. No1: loving, diplomatic and personable. No2: spirited, cuddlesome and thoughtful. No3: sunny, enthusiastic and sociable. There is so much potential between them. We are now finished with the simple days of the *baby bubble* now and on to the challenge and responsibility of the hard stuff.

These past 15 months have been difficult but now we are out of them. It is time to look forward; pour oil on the troubles; put a glint in our eyes and start embracing a fuller life.

Busy June

The Wedding

A sublime few days were had in the South of France 'en famille'. The weather was perfect, the bridal couple were sublime and the company was wonderful. The house we rented easily absorbed the Grand Clan of Egars, with a pool for the boys to frolic in and a large table on which to feed everyone.

A frenzied effort of flower-arranging, booklet binding and decoration of the marquise kept the Bride's family very busy for the days leading to the wedding but it is fair to say that many of the guests lent a hand. Busy hands got to know each other and set the tone for the Special Day.

The wedding day dawned and amongst others, two little flower girls made preparations for their special role.

Jane and Isabella were breath-takingly beautiful when they emerged in a froth of silk in cream and blue. Two deliciously shy little girls, causing a stir already in their lives with the beauty that they are radiating. This photo shows them walking down the road to meet the bride.

The groom waited patiently for a bride that dazzled in ivory lace and silk duchess satin and organza.

Aoife was easily one of the prettiest brides I ever saw.

And what a beautiful couple they made.

The party was uniquely catered for by Olivier Bontemps who created pure theatre with the wedding banquet in Aoife's French home finishing up with the pre-requisite French Crocque en Bouche which made its entrance over the heads of the guests flanked by flames.

It was a party none of us are likely to forget.

Jane is 4: June 21st, 2010

Bunting heralded the day.......

...we cut the fabric and made the invitations....

....made the cake......

and all that was left to do for a 4 year old girl and her party guests was to blow out the candles......

and open the presents....

How I just love this baby girl who has grown into a spirited, energetic and enthusiastic big girl. How I thank God for her and her brothers and the joy they bring to us. How perfect and how loving she is. She opens my eyes every day to the beauty of life, pushes me to my limits and crushes me with how lucky we are to have our children. She amazes me with her perspective and twinkles with the unstoppable zest for living that blesses her.

Jane Marie Therese Egar - your character is this big, beautiful shadow of everything we are. Wow. It is an honour to hold in our hand the daunting task of being an example. To teach you everything we know. We want to raise a beautiful, confident, loving human being and we will do everything we can to try and ensure we can fulfill that goal. Know today and always how much I love you and enjoy you and your brothers. Know that today was an example of a day of when I felt so incredibly lucky and thrilled to be your Mama. xx

Play-date... and don't forget the champagne

The weather did not seem to be able to make up its mind, but the most important thing on our agenda today was the two little boys that we were bringing home. How simple it is to pull off an amazing day for a child ... go to the park, have a picnic in the garden with little friends, play rugby on the green, feed them food they enjoy (help them negotiate the odd disagreement), more play and some more food. One very happy son and two contented little pals.

It took a pal of my own to make a simple point this evening. The sun shone warmly on our backs while catching up on each other's lives. Don't forget the champagne, she said. Dear Hubby is 40 today and having grown up with him, she remembered. I was cataloguing the jobs I needed to get done to arrange a simple celebration for him on Friday night when he gets home from up the country. Such has been the strain of the months of separation that I could only view everything as a 'job to be done' - including a celebration dinner. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO MY SENSE OF FUN???? The champagne comment stirred within me a feeling of excitement...an alien feeling that I wondered if I would ever get again. Suddenly I could see the scene... his parents, the balloons, champagne flutes, tasty food and my old engine revved up to power what is required to get this gig off the ground.

The good ...and the disappointing

June July and August.

Yeah!!! The three best reasons for teaching... June, July and August. So the cynical muse. And from where I am sitting, I am going along with it. It has been a tough year. And I am glad to see the back of it.

June Weekend

The sun is shining so brightly, the sun cream is thickly applied to fair skin and the beach beckons for Hubby and kids...but sadly, not me. I am enchained to my sewing machine. The family wedding approaches and two flower girl dresses are still in the making. I can't say that I really procrastinated for the past few months ... well, not if a few minutes free time thinking of doing the work is called procrastination.

I had a romantic idea that making the dresses would be fun. But being 10 years out of practice has made the job trickier. Feeling somewhat disappointed with what is emerging is not helping. At least the beauty of the two girls who will wear them on the day, will shine...

whatever about the dresses.

Girls' fashion

I've been known to blow a week's wages on a pair of Jimmy Choos and savour the decadence of such a whimsical purchase while justifying the extravagance with the usual excuses...."I will have them forever!"....."they will go with everything" ..."I bought them in a sale".... and my favourite one, "I will have it for seven years". I adore finding the perfect piece and imagining the scene as I wear it. And of course, I imagine the glamourous life that I have as I wear it (sucker!!). As it is packed onto tissue and a pretty bag, I usually figure that at last, my wardrobe is complete. But of course it never is. I continue to look blankly into the closet while dressing for work or hanging around the house with the children. The perfectly defined wardrobe becomes more elusive with every purchase, yet that quest for those key pieces becomes re-energised with every trip to a clothes shop.

This week I bought a perfect dress for a family wedding in France. I feel French in it. (guffaw!!). It is black with a cream trim. It is a wrap and the skirt flows with a double ruffle....and best of all, I can wear it with my Jimmys. I think I will have it for YEARS. There. Justified.

And do you know what? I just love it.

Going global

A good friend asked me to give her the address of this blog. Screeeeeeeaaaaacccccccchhh to a halt! Clearly putting this blog on the internet means that I know it needs to be read.....having someone actually read it is, frankly disarming. It is letting someone into my virtual realm.

I have quickly read through some of the content and while I like the thoughts, I need to develop the modus to reveal them. I am still a bit wooden. It feels a bit stiff . I do not recognise myself.

OR ...... is this who I really am to the world?

Accepting kids for who they are...

Today No 2 had an audition.

This Spring, after clearly detailing how he did NOT want to go to the Cork School of Music next year, I surreptitiously filled out the application form for a musicianship course with an emphasis on wind instruments. I was filled with hope that this motivated little man would take to music if an instrument was placed in his hands.

No 1 bailed out on music a few years ago having ambled along indifferently in a purely academic programme. Logically I understood that music is difficult enough when you are interested and talented. To be disinterested and struggling was madness. Logically, why would you put a child through a weekly lesson and daily practice that would dash self-esteem? However, I am ashamed to say that I still felt disappointed. For me, a music education seems intrinsic to a childhood so I struggled to separate my dreams from the reality of of No1's limitations in this field.

Last week a letter from the Cork School of Music (CSM) lay waiting on the floor of the hallway on arrival home. I was at first fearful of the contents. The envelope revealed an invitation to audition. The to-do list included singing 2 songs, clapping to a rhythm and repeating notes played or sung to him. Now I was scared. God. The poor fellow. To say his singing ear is still developing is kind. The reality is more that he is tone deaf. I had been hoping that learning an instrument where you press prescribed notes would help bypass a need to sing or have a musical ear.

I was in a pit of depression that week to start with and now the potential disappointment of No2 ending his musical education before it even started had a crushing effect on me. God! I was so disappointed. Why could they not just let him have a go at the class for a year? He is a motivated little person who just might become proficient in the right teacher's hands. I know that he cannot sing but surely a six year old cannot be written off before he even has a chance? The most interesting feeling I had was my own feeling of failure. I do not understand it. But a failure as a mother is what I felt. Oh! what I would give to hear a c hild of mine play an instrument to themselves or to a family audience.

On further examination, I realised that I had written him off myself in deciding not to send him to the audition. What was the point, I thought. He will be humiliated. My sister disagreed. She encouraged me to prepare him for the audition and send him anyway. Who knows what might happen?

So, every day we practiced. In the kitchen, in the car, at bed-time. No2 thrived on the attention. He actually started to remind me of our times to practice. And what do you know? ..... he started to improve. His accuracy at hitting the notes moved upwards to about 80%. His rhythm was very good.

My brother-in-law minded the other two children while I took No2 into the CSM. The little Treasure reveled in the time we had to ourselves. He skipped along beside me with glee towards the school and was quite amazed to see his name posted on a notice board announcing his audition time. Outside the room, familiar faces from his own primary school waited also. Conversation revealed that tone deafness was more common than I had realised. Hope sprung.

When he emerged proudly from the audition, I could see the teachers grinning. No2 is quite the entertainer. Once again, skipping along the pavement, he revealed that he sang his song (I'll never know how that went) but I could not ascertain what else was required of him except that he volunteered to whistle for them. Whistle!!?? "Can you whistle?," I enquired. He demonstrated a non-whistle for me and added that when they asked him what instrument he wanted to learn, he pronounced that he wanted to learn the piano. He knew that he should have said the clarinet at a Windwise audition but no, he told them HE wanted to learn the piano.

What will be in the next envelope, when it drops through the door the next time, maybe not what I want to see. However, the feelings I had driving home in the car were full of warmth and love and pride and joy in this precious child. Whatever the outcome, I will accept it.

Watch this space.