Weekend inspiration & other forms of Torture

Another post from HerFamily.ie in case you missed it….the link to the original one is here.

Sunday morning.

Sun is shining. It’s above 10 degrees. There is only a 83% chance of rain. 

This means one thing and one thing only.

Summer time in Ireland!!

And our usual Saturday/Sunday morning conversation ……… 

Hubster: “Soooooo what’ll we do today?” * fingers, toes, legs, feet, everything crossed that I’ll say ‘”oh don’t you worry about that! Why don’t you watch The Kerry match while I bring the kids on an epic adventure that will wear them out so much that they’ll sleep the whole way home, up the stairs, into bed and right through to 9.30am tomorrow morning.

Me: “I’m not sure but whatever it is we need to run the kids ragged so they’ll go to bed early tonight” *and I ain’t doing that alone honey so cancel your plans…..whatever they are.

Hubster:             Silence                             *heart sinks

Me: “Right so, Where can we get some air, exercise, quality family time, ice-cream & coffee?” *Rheotorical question – simply because it’s the same answer every week.

Hubster: “I’ll get my coat” *secretly smuggles headphones in to listen to match into his pocket.


And so we pick from our rarely strayed from weekend List of things to do with the kids. They are as follows:

  1. Fota Wildlife Park – we have an annual pass and probably spend more time here than some of the employees! It’s called getting value for money.
  2. The beach – we discussed this 2 weeks ago here so you know the drill.
  3. Scooting/biking down on the old railway line (now a bike/running path) followed by hot chocolates.
  4. Visiting one of the umpteen playgrounds locally – yes, even the closed down, being renovated one we checked on Father’s Day. Well, wasn’t this quite the treat?!
  5. Going for early dinner – aka ‘destroying someone else’s dining space’ 

Sandwiches were made & Fota with friends was the plan. They have some new enclosures & animals. And with that off we went to see the newborn baby Tapir, revisit the Sumatran Tigers & bask in the warmth of the Tropical house.


The Art Tent in a Fota is a MASSIVE hit with all children and lately they have been facepainting in there…..so true to form 1st & 2nd born were willing participants….as were their friends!

This weekend 1st born had a birthday party to attend – sadly though the party was on Saturday (probably around the same time we were enjoying our ham sandwiches in the picnic area) so by the time we showed up at 2.30pm on Sunday it’s safe to say that we had missed it. Cue understandable epic meltdown, frantic apology phone calls & major rescue operation by parents.

Wagamama’s in Cork was celebrating it’s 10th birthday so we totally LUCKED OUT. They had face painting pirates & balloon blowing princesses and most importantly…… Our reservation! 1st born was happy so long as there was a birthday party of some shape or form to attend. The rest are just details in her 5 year old world!


I’m still not sure what these creatures are but they fitted 1st & 2nd borns criteria perfectly (that being free & well, free)

And so we ordered our NEVER strayed from kids meal deals of fresh juice, giant chicken nugget (aka chicken Katsu curry but don’t dare call it that), edamame beans (how we got our children to love this leaves use confused, baffled and delighted – they hate veg as a rule so it’s astounding)…..oh, and can you warm the sweet corn that normally comes cold please? All this while there is a mass colouring frenzy until no part of anyone’s placemat/menu remains untouched by Crayola wax.

Bearing in mind, we are that family that scours menu’s outside establishments when on holliers in France to ensure service of chicken tenders and chips whilst eyeing suspiciously (& enviously) all those French children eating their olives, garden salads & mussels. I have long since given up….but I did fight the good fight.

Wagamamas seems to be relatively healthy & octopus boy appears relatively happy playing with chopsticks long enough for us to enjoy a warm dinner destroy the tables, floors & everything else we touch. And that is success in my book.

And with that we piled back into the car, headed home for Sunday night bath time & school lunch organisation, happy in the knowledge it is the last time we’ll have to prep for a Monday in this way for 2 whole months. And that in itself is a whole other story.

Yours, frantically googling local,summer camps,

Cli xx


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