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The ramblings of Mrs. Hoolihan

My rants on life and everything in between. Desperately trying to remind myself that it's just not worth the jail time.

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Children

Another year gone Mummy….


2.50am, 2nd March 2011 you were beckoned to Heaven to become an Angel.

Our world stopped. Tick tock, Tick tock, the silence suddenly became so deafening.

Filled with bleakness, panic and a void, we’d only ever known the strength and love of you our Mum and of Dad too. A quiet, steely strength, you were the anchor of our family ship.

The life and soul, you’d light a room with your presence. Never one to shout and scream, you quite literally held the patience of a saint.

Never one to complain, you always put others before yourself. Upon reaching you at hospital at 11.30pm on 1st March, on seeing me enter that little room, your first words were, “Jen love, what’re you doing here, you’ve work tomorrow?” Hours from death and you were more worried about me than yourself – your love for us children was your only thought, not what you were about to face – your love never waived, we were never second only ever first to you.

When you died, a piece of us died with you. A void swept in; shock overcame us and time stood still. It’s been 6 years now and not a day goes by that  I don’t think of you, wish you were here or long one last time, to hug  and smell your skin, the way I used to as a little girl.

You’re still with us, I know for certain. I know you were there on my wedding day last year, the sunbeam on the photos when there was no sun demonstrated your presence. Last year you also missed the birth of your 4th grandchild, your first Granddaughter, Isla’Rose. A little beauty, I know that you’ll be the proudest Grandmother in Heaven and each night, you’ll be looking over your beautiful grandchildren, ensuring their safety as they dream of all things sugar and spice and all things nice…

Harry asked me the other day whose Mummy Nanny Marilyn was and I explained she’s Daddy’s Mummy. He then asked me where my Mummy was and I told him that Nanny Karen is a twinkle twinkle in the star and he asked if you ever spoke to me.. My heart broke but I was determined not to cry – you’d laugh and cry at my beautiful and funny little man – he quite simply has no idea how much I miss you.

I wish you could join us from Heaven once again, if only for one last time for larger than life family meals to meet the newest members of our ever expanding family. You’d adore Wayne and Ross – they’d never tire of your never ending feeding! Your grandchildren you’d adore and you’d relish being able to enjoy looking after the munchkins of a weekend and whilst we worked, baking and cooking with them all – you’d have them domesticated before they even went to school!

Dad, Dave, Ric, Jolene, Maffu and Baby Jayne miss you terribly Mummy. Time may distance us but our hearts never will. You’ll be pleased to know that we’re all as close as ever and together, we always ensure that your memory is kept alive.

Dave undertakes his climb to Everest’s basecamp later this year; please watch over him and keep him safe as  he climbs that bit closer to Heaven won’t you?

Another year may have passed Mummy and yes the void is still there, the pain is still there (sometimes it’s as raw as the day you were beckoned) but I can still feel your warmth, hear your infectious laugh and feel your arms around me – our memories never fade and a piece of you is will always be with me xxx

 

 

 

 

Bastarding baby gates.


Last night I tripped and fell over the bastarding baby gate in our hall way. Ironic you may add for a woman whose recently completed a gruelling health and safety course in Construction.

Anyway, it occurred as I climbed over (as I always do), being nearly 5ft 10 it’s easy enough seeing as I’m way too lazy to open the damn thing. So I straddled over it and it wasn’t locked, so it flew open and I’ve fuck all idea what happened at this point and  so I’m not sure what body part became entangled but it resulted with me smashing my knees up, landing on my left, smashing my wrists and foot and somehow, hurting my face ( I don’t recall smashing this, but let’s be honest after minimal sleep Saturday post hen do number 2 and less than 4 hours sleep), anything could have happened.

Wayne, of course, laughed his head off at me following this noisey commotion and instead of picking me up from the floor, where I was pretty much star fishing by this point, he left me in a heap. Today, I ache like a mofo. With less than 4 weeks to the wedding, my Maid of Honour has berated me and although she hasn’t said it aloud, I can literally hear her calling me a fucking moron (Monica from Friends mark 2, I’m certain she’d wrap me in cotton wool and lock me in the loft until the big day if she could have her way).

So the moral of today’s rant is this. Don’t have fucking  baby gates – they’re a trip hazard and dangerous to real-life, grown human beings. Small people simply need to learn that bit quicker and so asap, I’m going to risk assess the whole bastarding baby gate scenario with Harry and introduce him to the world of being a careful bastard. God help me.

 

 

 

Happy 2nd birthday my little love!


Happy birthday my darling son! Today you turn 2 and Mummy is sat here wondering how this has happened so fast?

This time 2 years ago (Daddy hates when I reminisce but it’s good for the soul and the mind my love), Mummy was cradling you in her arms – I was thunderstruck by your arrival (and how big you were!) and I couldn’t believe you’d finally arrived, safely (although it was very touch and go at points) and how beautiful you were.

A 16 hour labour filled with Daddy making Mummy laugh the whole way through and we couldn’t have envisioned what a beautiful little baby you’d be. Actually, Mummy is lying. When you born, you weren’t pretty – not immediately anyway. You were battered and bruised and very, very swollen – 2 days later and and you were a corker, an absolute beauty my little love!

And here we are, anyway, 2 years later and you’re quite a little boy. Incredibly well mannered (people are always commenting on how you always remember to say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’), polite, boisterous and funny; we couldn’t be prouder of you.

This am you opened your presents from Mummy, Daddy, Aunty T, Aunty Laura & Grandad Pat’s card as well as Nanny & Grandad Ron’s  and you were thrilled, but little did you know that Mummy & Daddy have another present for you this evening to open once your Aunty & Uncles and Grandad Pete arrive and Mummy is so excited, she can’t concentrate today!

“Thank you Daddy” you said when Daddy opened you your Mickey flip flops from Aunty T – so polite and thankful; Mummy’s eyes were brimming at how cute you were. You’ve been spoilt by Aunty T and Uncle Nige and no doubt your other Aunts and Uncles and Grandad Pete will later too – you’re the apple of their eye after-all and they love to shower you with attention and in return, you adore them too.

We’ve your party on Saturday; all your favourite people under one roof – you’ll be in your element no doubt! All your cousins will be present; they adore you and you adore them too – it’s so cute to see you altogether, especially Lexi as she trys to boss you around!

2 whole years we’ve been lucky enough to be Mummy & Daddy to you and you’re a pleasure to be around. Witty, articulate & funny – Mummy could go on all day!

You’ve enriched our lives beyond belief; we’re the lucky ones to be graced with you and whilst you’ll always, always, always be my baby, I look forward to the future milestones we’re going to share with you and I cherish each and every day with you and all the memories we’re making.

I’ll continue to document your life and hopefully one day, when you’re older, should you want to, you can look back and read Mummy’s blogs with the love and affection in which I write these.

For now my little one, enjoy your 2nd birthday and with much love, hugs and happiness, Mummy will sign off.

Happy birthday Harry, my darling little love, all my love, Mummy xxxxxx

 

 

 

 

My darling, my love, my son.


My darling little son Harry.

We’re exactly one week away from your 2nd birthday; how time has flown! I can’t really remember what my life was like before you joined us – somewhat quieter I imagine but I wouldn’t change you for the world!

I’m unsure what I expected you to be like. We didn’t find out if you were a little boy or a little girl, although in my heart, I just knew you were a little boy. I couldn’t imagine what your little face would look like or even what colour hair you’d have, if you’d be serene or a proper little boy – all I knew was that I was beyond excited to take the step with Daddy to bring you into our world and that I’d love you unconditionally.

For a nearly 2 year old, you’re very bright. You can count to 14 independently and at the moment, we’re teaching you the alphabet but you always burst out laughing when reciting this!

Last night you were sat in your high chair (seldom you do this these days as you prefer your little table and chair) and you looked straight at me, as though analyzing me and said “Mummy, pretty” and smiled at me. You melt me each and every day, but last night was different – it was as if you’d looked into my very soul before coming to your solid conclusion.

You look at the world with a sense of wonder, mixed with an equal dose of mischief! Only this morning whilst I was ironing Daddy’s t-shirt whilst you were sat in bed watching Postman Pat, did I wander back in to the bedroom to witness you trying to cuddle Rocky whilst yanking on his poor tail; even Rocky doesn’t have the heart to tell you no!

Last night, for the first time in a while, you cried for Daddy at 11pm. We’d just turned the light out at 10.40pm and Daddy had slipped into a deep sleep, so bleary eyed after a full days’ work and having just dropped off, I stumbled into your room. We sat, cuddling on your rocking chair, you snuggling into me whilst I rubbed your hair and you fell asleep in my arms. I should’ve laid you down in your cot straight away, but I didn’t. I sat for a little while, snuggling and kissing your little chubby cheeks.

One day, you’ll be too big to snuggle in my lap and you won’t want kisses either. So i take them now whilst I can. Yes you’ll continue to wake, but you’ll learn to self comfort with me or Daddy just talking, without the need for cuddles and that breaks my heart for to me, you’ll always be my baby.

Last Saturday night, you wouldn’t go to bed, so I laid on the floor next to you. “Story Mummy” you kept repeating, so i recited 5 stories and then we came to you lying down to sleep. I laid too, pretending to snore in the vain hope you’d drop off, but you didn’t. “Mummy, cup of tea?” Well my little love, you had me in stitches! You’ll literally try anything to avoid sleeping when you’re in that mood! In the end, Daddy came in and took over reading stories… I think really, all you wanted was a bit of Daddy time!

We couldn’t have wished for a funnier, smarter or wittier little boy.

You’re our life; the light that has brightened our little world and strengthened our love. Beautiful inside and out, you’re loved by Mummy & Daddy very much and even Rocky too!

It may be a bit of cliche, but your arms around my neck, are the most precious jewels I could wear; you’re my darling, my love, my son. As you approach yet another milestone,  Daddy and I couldn’t be prouder and we look forward to watching you grow and develop into a beautiful little boy.

You’re my darling, my love, my son; and I simply adore you. 
 

 

 

My Mummy. My Angel.


It’s been 5 years since Mummy was beckoned to become an Angel. 5 long years without her.

Sometimes  I hear her voice, capture a passing whiff of her perfume or hear an old Motown record and she’s right back in the room with us again.

Mummy didn’t want to die. On hearing the dreadful diagnosis of Cancer her words were simple according to my Dad, “I can’t have Cancer; I’ve 6 children”.

October 2006 is when those words were uttered and Mummy would quietly, with no fuss, battle the bastarding Cancer that would eventually kill her. Watching your parent, who you’ve always looked up to, battle a disease, is horrific. Luckily Mummy’s hair didn’t fall out, but she’d be confined to the family home for days on end; tired, withdrawn and sometimes ebbing at an all time low – the despair I think would torment her of her of what would happen to Dad and my brothers and sisters should she succumb to the fucker.

Not once did she ever ask why. Mummy wasn’t frightened of death; she never spoke of dying, I don’t think she could look it in the eye, but she wasn’t afraid – she was afraid for those she was leaving behind.

Mummy is always with us, I know that. She’d never leave us. Eternally 51, I know she’s looking out for each of us and she’d be proud of the people we’ve all become.

Dad although he misses her terribly and visits her grave without fail, every single day, is both Mum & Dad to us. He has his moments, but slowly, he’s realizing that you wouldn’t want him to mope each and every single day.

Dave is an incredible Daddy to little Davy who you missed on meeting by 2 months and Richard has become a Teacher. Joanne is your carbon copy Mum and thinks of everyone else but herself and Matthew has graduated uni with a 2:1 ! Jayne is now Mummy to Thomas who is 7 months old and a little treasure and all bar Dave who is yet to meet the woman of his dreams, we’ve such amazing partners, you’d love the lovely bones of each of them!

And then there’s me. You’d be surprised wouldn’t you at me becoming a Mummy! Always so focused on everything but children and not even liking them! Harry’s nearly 2 and an absolute dream – I know you visit him – whether it’s in his dreams or if you talk quietly to him, but I know you’re with him after what he said the other morning to Wayne.

My Mummy is my angel guardian and I know she looks to keep my family from harm. I know that when our time eventually comes, you’ll be there at those Pearly Gates, chewing St Peter’s ear off and once again, one, by one, our family will join  together again.

 

 

Refusing to go to bed.


Over the last few days, we’ve interrupted Harry’s routine. The result? Almost disaster, I’ll tell you what.

Before Harry arrived, the one thing that I promised Wayne we’d do, would be to ensure that our baby a) had a bed time routine and b) knew that he or she would have to stick to it (by and large I mean by this, I’m not some sort of Nazi after all). Anyway, Harry’s always had a routine and has always, barring from a few exceptions such as teething, stuck to it. Sometimes he’s even been known to take himself off up to bed ahead of his usual time.

So as I say, the last few days for one reason or another, he’s gone to bed in excess of his bedtime by about an hour. Well Holy Mother of God has this affected him, has it.

The night before last, the Christmas tree went up and we didn’t feel it’d be fair to send Harry to bed until we’d finished – he did have to pop the fairy on top after all. After a little fuss, Harry went to bed, but it wasn’t without some persuasion and bribery shall we say.

Last night his beloved Aunty Jo and Uncle Ross paid a visit – I wish they hadn’t to be honest. I love seeing them, I love them as individuals, I do, I do, I do, but god, they caused havoc (I mean that in a nice way Jo & Ross if you read this). At the mention of Uncle Ross coming over, Harry undertook laps around the house, giving any long distance runner a run (excuse the pun) for their money. Was Harry excited they were coming to visit? Oh just a tad.

Laughter, tickles and lots of shrieking followed and by the time they left, a few hours later, Harry was revved up like a 90s teen off their face on Speed at a rave. Ace.

Two attempts at settling Harry to bed, were an absolute failure to say the very least. “Mummy, Mummy”   the arms were around my neck trying to strangle me in Harry’s attempt not to be put to bed. The second was Wayne trying to let him ‘self settle’. What a load of bollocks that is; if they don’t pass out from a sore throat at the bellowing, then you probably will from the incessant wailing emitting round your ears and banging migraine that ensues. That didn’t work either, so back downstairs he came. Another bottle of milk , Disney Cars for about the 56th time this week and a laughing Harry sat smugly in his Daddy’s arms (he’s totally learn how to play us off against one another).

Third time’s a charm right? Nope you’d be wrong there. The whole family wrapped up (we were all in pjs by this point), we loaded the car up and went for a family drive in the freezing cold. Just what you need during British wintertime.No sooner had we set off and before the warmth could kick in, finally the munchkin fell asleep….

I guess my moan or rant or point or whatever you wanna call it, is that really, don’t fuck with your kiddie winkles bed time routine. You’re basically holding yourself to ransom and ultimately you become the victim of your own success.

Tonight we’ll be back to the usual routine; tea, playtime, bath and then a story, followed by a bottle of milk whilst watching ‘In the Night Garden’ – I hate that bloody programme with a passion, but Harry finds it hilarious so as long as he’s happy, Mummy’s happy.

Tonight I will not be the victim of my own success.

Losing loved ones & impending Christmas time.


Losing loved ones isn’t easy. It’s the absolute pits.

It doesn’t matter how old they are, how ill they were; who they were to you (step or biological) nothing can prepare you for the passing of a loved one.

I’ve had two friends lose their beloved Father and another his Mum in the last few weeks. Both passings couldn’t be different – one had sadly been poorly for a very long time and the other, tragically died instantly in a car crash. The circumstances are still the same irrespective of the build up of events that led to their passing.

My heart breaks for my friends. There’s nothing of any comfort at all that can be said to soften their hurt. No amount of hugs can make them feel any less lonely and no amount of words can heal their worried minds.

There’s no ‘good’ time to lose a loved one, I should know, I lost my beloved Grandfather two weeks before Christmas a number of years ago and Mummy in March 4 years ago. However, the lead up to Christmas is a horrific time to lose someone.

Christmas is family time. It’s that time of year, you enjoy spending time with those nearest and dearest to you. Yes there’s tears (there’s always that one family member who grates on you), but there’s laughter too, and lots of it too. And that’s what makes losing a loved one at this time of year so hard; you should be listening to their laughter yet all you feel is a void and all you can hear is an eery silence.

The first Christmas we had after losing Mummy was undoubtedly the hardest Christmas my family have ever had. Mummy’s absence was the elephant in the room; brave faces and smiles to paste over the quivering lips, I don’t believe I ever thought Christmas could ever be so sad…

And that’s why I can’t help but think of my friends. Day and night I can’t help but think of them. My pain isn’t as raw as it was (if you’ve never lost a parent, you can’t imagine the pain and it never goes away, you just learn to live with that pain in your heart) but it still hurts, a dull ache in your chest. Even though I’ve lost a parent, springtime when she passed brought a new sense of life. The trees started to blossom not too long afterwards, birds had returned and flowers began to peep through.

This time of year isn’t centred around any of these things – it’s all about Christmas and family. They’ll get through this horrific Christmas (two of my friends have children and this will help like you wouldn’t believe), but it’s going to be the hardest thing they’ve done to date and my heart couldn’t break any more for them…There’s light but it’ll be a long time before they can see even a chink of it.

Brought up Catholic, I believe in Heaven and that’s where I believe Mummy is. It’s where I believe my friends parents are too.

I believe they never leave us and walk beside us every day, unseen and unheard but always there…..

 

 

Christmas is Coming!


It’s that time of year, which can only mean one thing, Christmas is on its way!

I LOVE Christmas, it’s truly the most magical time of the year. From decorating the house to carefully choosing gifts for loved ones, popping the tree up, stuffing yourself silly, arguing over the last Caramel Fudge in the Roses tin to switching those twinkly, winkly lights on – there’s no one thing that  I don’t enjoy about Christmas. I simply LOVE IT!

Last night our tree went up. Beginning a new Christmas tradition, Harry popped Tinkerbell on the top; his little face was to die for. Looking like he’d won the lottery, it was easy to see how in awe of this brightly lit tree, our little chap was. Touching every (and I mean every) bauble, his little face was beaming from ear to ear ‘pretty’ was his response and ‘more!’ when we switched the lights off on the tree!

Once the tree is up, Christmas is on its way. I’ve not been very organised this year what with exams and revision and feel like time has run away with me, resulting in me frantically trying to recall what each of our family would like this year as gifts (I must remember to begin shopping in March to gain a head start next year).

Having a large family does have its benefits and Christmas is defo one of them. There’s never a dull moment and there being so many of us, you’re guaranteed to end up with the best chocolate selection known to man as you can bribe, steal or swap chocolate to end yup with your selection of choice! After all, what’s Christmas without a selection box right?!

I’m not much of a cook if truth be known; I haven’t the patience. My excellent other half cooked for the family last year and my Father in law to be was beaming at the culinary delights that Wayne served up – he’s raised a good un there for sure!

I can’t wait for the roast potatoes, the stuffing, the gravy – ah the list could go on! Not long to wait now, be patient Jenny, be patient – after all good things come to those that wait!

Most of all though, I can’t wait for Christmas morning. Christmas morning up until recently was all about me. Not anymore; it’s all about our son Harry. At one and a half, he doesn’t understand the true meaning of Christmas or Father Christmas yet, but we’re working on that, so until then, I’ll just have to be patient. No gifts have been left under the tree; these won’t be popped under until Christmas Eve, for Harry loves presents. If there’s a present around, he thinks its for him (why wouldn’t he I guess!) and so he’ll have a go at opening it. Christmas morning is going to be magical – I can’t wait to see his beautiful little face when he realises that all the presents under the tree are for him!

It’s fair to say, that I simply can’t wait for Christmas. I’m lucky enough to work in an industry that shuts down for two weeks over the festive period. Christmas films, chocolates, nibbles and cakey with the people who mean the world to me; bring it on!

If we could just have some snow, that would top it off – I’m not fussed about gifts this year – just some snow – that’s all I ask for!

Christmas 2015 –  I can’t wait for you to arrive!

 

Harry – you’re our world.


Harry, you’re only 19 months old, but in the relatively short time that you’ve graced mine and your Daddy’s lives, you’ve filled it with nothing but laughter, love and that feeling of ultimate completeness.

You’ve always been a very happy, smiley baby; even when you were tiny, you’d belly laugh at your little dog, Rocky. You’d tease him with your toys and as you’ve both grown together, that love you have for one another has grown too and it’s safe to say (thank goodness!) you’ve become the best of brothers.

Each morning we wake to hear you chattering to your teddy bears, followed by little laughter and ‘Mummy!’ ‘Daddy!’ – that’s your q to telling us you’re done with bedtime and so we carry you out and sit you in bed (often with Daddy), whilst you dictate what you should watch ‘choo choo’ – yep you’ve guessed it, you LOVE Chuggington! ‘More’ you’ll shout, when an episode concludes and so we give in to you, it’s too hard not to as you gaze up at us with those big, beautiful blue eyes!

Your independence has dumb founded Mummy. Only the other day, you insisted on walking down stairs, un-aided by Mummy, only holding the staircase for dear life – I can honestly say you have no fear, and Mummy’s heart is often in her mouth!

You pace around the house with such a sense of purpose; you seem to know where you’re going and what you want – even if it is only to run into one of the spare bedrooms to play hide and seek. Everyday is new and thrilling for you – you’re happy to explore and you’re a joy to watch. Watching your little brow furrow as you’re puzzled, I find myself biting my lip to stop Mummy from laughing. The last thing I want to do is ever make you feel self-conscious – even if I find you comical as you work the basics of life out.

You’re always willing to try something new; I’ll never forget the time in TGI Friday’s when you tasted ice-cream for the very first time. You almost hyperventilated! We couldn’t understand how you could so happily suck on a piece of lemon but yet find the taste of ice-cream so discerning!

Mummy and Daddy’s greatest hope is that you’re happy and healthy. You can have all the worldly goods, but if you don’t possess happiness or health, then sadly my little one, you’ll have nothing…

You’re our greatest achievement and we couldn’t be prouder – may you always smile and laugh and be healthy; if you’re happy and content, then life will then fall easily into place and you’ll be a content little chap with life.

All our love our beautiful little one, Mummy & Daddy xxxx

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