The Battle of Ups and Downs.

How many highs and lows can you get before you use up your stash? I just am wondering if God or the karma fairy or just something else we have no clue of (someone in the sky, these ‘beings’ of higher power are always in the sky in my opinion) is quietly stock taking my lot and one day I will run out?

What happens then?

I wonder if that is when I became dead fish eyed and uncaring? If my bland solid life, of no erratic content, makes me slide through in banal oblivion not giving a bit of notice to the joys of holidays, births, the tragedy of illnesses, deaths and life’s tough times?


I don’t really want that either.

I want to enjoy and love it all. Sometimes however the universe is fighting me hard and testing my emotional strength. The ups and downs are swings and roundabouts, thrills and spills, tears and laughter inducing moments. They are so topsy turvy that when they really accelerate, like this weekend, that I wonder if I am able to take much more?

Life as a funfair. Is it fair that it isn’t always fun?

So Sky Being, are you real and are you monitoring my usage? If so, how am I looking? I have concerns you see, as I feel I over used quota on several occasions this weekend.

Oh those mathsy humans who can do sums.

Let’s start on Friday.

A pleasant Up- the fudge and coffee acknowledged in Birthday Baked Alaska.

Sharp Down swing- baby Betsy trying to kill us at bedtime. Our sleep angel has become unsettled at the time we settle her down and we are spoiled, so are unused to this. She has congestion so we we worry. We started her on solids this week so we blame that. We blame weather. Beds. Sleeping bags. Nappies. Stuffiness. Overly small babygros. Overly large babygros. I obviously blame my return to work as having ignited a fear of abandonment in her. The guessing game continues.




Gentle Up- nice morning cuddles from all.

Major Down- Betsy crying for two hours. Awful.

Tentative Up- girls looking beautiful in dresses as we set out for their cousin’s first holy communion. Lots of swish swoo smile action.  Only tentative as we can tell they aren’t fully happy. Also my own dress made me look six months pregnant. I found a slightly less terrible alternative.


Swing Down- Gigi very unhappy on car trip. Teary. Not hungry. Bad sign. Breakfast for us on the run and in turns from motorway truck stop, AppleGreen when Gigi slept.

Counteractive Up- mass wasn’t too stressful. I mean there was no public meltdown. I dread mass and bringing a small baby and toddler to it. I usually don’t.

Somewhat Down- actually mass  was quite stressful as we each had a baby and I was in and out frequently. Mass was two hours long and in Irish.  Really didn’t get into it. Mr Paper was in fact hosting a silent storytime at one point to three young children mid sermons with a book entitled It’s Not Fair.

Up- cousin was sweet and beautiful in her dress. She did extremely well!


Down- first two hours at celebration in house after was a hairy mix of nappies, people, overexcitement and scary oversized bouncy castle that made Gigi happy yet sad as the same time. Neither of us could eat the snacks or have coffee etc like other people as we’re the parents of the two under two, as I overheard many say, as if we were the surviving brontosaurus clan from another era.

Air filled treachery for a parent of an almost two year old.

Surprising Up- Betsy went to sleep. I had to swing her seat in the air and now have arm ache like a day spent turning turf on the bog but it was worth it. Gigi chilled out with her Nana for a bit. We both ate dinner. We went at it like apes at the banana feast in the zoo. We both ate delicious dessert. We each had a mouthful of hot coffee.

Down- Getting home wasn’t too awful but the evening was cruel. No one would settle to bed once we got home due to a mass sleepathon in the car and overstimulation. Gigi went at half eight. Betsy hit a whopping Guinness record of ten fifteen. Way past our own bedtime.


Up- We had Chinese food. We had it at half ten. It was manna.

Sunday has been lovely and stressful also. Lots of belly laughs with the girls but then the workload of the week to do before Monday weighing me down like an exam student’s  backpack in the nineties before the technology. Both girls are at size changes so the clothes management is bonkers. I decided to tackle it at five pm today. Packing. Bagging. Stacking.  Folding. Hanging. Size checking. That last bit may be the worst. Why are sizes always hidden on secret places on tiny tags??

We end on an Up. Beth went to sleep happily at seven. Smiling.

Gigi had a fun bathtime and a lovely day.

We spent time together watching some TV, sharing chocolate, chatting and just hanging out.


Motherhood makes ups and downs more violent in their approach somehow. They are erratic and unpredictable. One moment you are content and satisfied, loving something adorable your child is doing, the next you are secretly, privately banging your first on a utility room counter in the hope to get out frustrations.

Once the ups are strong enough to defy and dominate the downs, life is OK.


It  still requires a dose of daily survival tactics however and I reckon this is the way it is for another while.

In the meantime trips to events such as a family communion is like babysitting kittens on a boat. Terrifying and tense with moments of unexpected and untrustworthy serenity.


So Sky Being. Let me know when I am reaching my limits, OK? Thank you for your customer service.

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