Ok , so we're not Italian, but we're very close. We get along just grand with The Pope and all the other Italians and they get along grand with us. We are the same type of proud people.
We are communicators. We like to talk. We talk a lot about our families.
This is my family.....
Anthony the first grandchild, the awaited first boy, has character, kindness and love in his bones,
Padraig is second and adorably cute, lovable and full of smiles,
Ryan comes in third full of macho delight,
Sarah arrives flighty and floaty at fourth,
Rebecca swims fifth as a beautiful swan,
Shauna's adorably smiley in sixth,
Pierce blends in all angles in seventh place,
Alex slides in well at eight full of grace,
Sean is a lad prancing ninth in full steam,
Finn in tenth place is a boyo with a dream,
Grace in at eleventh is a beauty without doubt,
Yasmin's an angel coming in at a dozen,
Elle at thirteenth, a smiler, a cousin.
And last of granny's children is Isabella at fourteen,
While their mother's and granny sit around the kitchen table full of chat and slagging.
This my family, I am proud to share,
We gather for any excuse, happy or scare,
They keep me busy,
They keep me broke,
But what else would I be doing?
Jean xx
Thursday 3 September 2015
Doing Life in the Prison cell of your mind
You know when convicted criminals go into prison and it's called 'Life?
Have you ever really thought about what that word really means and the implications of the word Life? Well, Life is a strong word. It contains so much weight. It's the definition of living. Life for criminals means adapting to a new way of living. A life without freedom and a life without the freedom to make their own decisions and choices. Criminals who have killed and maimed will never experience their own desires again, as long as they are serving Life in prison. And they may well deserve this Life sentence for their crimes, but Life in prison is not easy. Contained in a small cell, it's not for the faint hearted and only few will see it through. Ironically, this is the same experience for people on the outside too.
When a baby comes into this world for the first time, she starts a new Life sentence. I say 'sentence' because she also has no choice in where she is born into and she will have to learn to adapt and grow within her chosen family. Thankfully, nearly all of the population cherishes these gifts from God and they aspire to do a great job in helping these little mites fit into our great planet Earth. But like the criminals in prison, a lot of human beings struggle with Life on the outside.
I myself, had struggled with Life for my first 45 years. I suffered with depression. Of course, there were reasons I had depression and yes it developed in my childhood years, so as a young adult, I realized I needed to go to some self help classes. As the years went on, I was unable to unscramble the clouds in my head and live happily in my 'Life sentence'. My behavior became angry and tearful, sad and resentful. And as my struggles with life was worsening, my behavior became erratic and my mind and body began to feel ill. Don't get me wrong, for all of my adult years, I was continuously trying so hard to become normal, to live my life peacefully and happily. I went to many good counsellors and when my last child Yasmin was born eleven years ago, I had to go on antidepressants.
Life of course has many challenges for people and it may seem that some get too much to bear, as in a prison cell.
When my child was diagnosed with lots of difficulties among other stresses that were going on in my life at the time, I felt my Life was too difficult. I felt I was useless and I felt I was a failure. I completely hated myself. I didn't want to leave my children, in fact, I was terrified of leaving and abandoning them at all. And even though I never planned a suicide, I found myself writing two letters. One to my Solicitor stating my wishes for my children and one to my youngest child's God parent also stating my wishes for her God child. I also left a note for my husband and kids in my diary which I printed in my book 'My Beautiful flower'.
I never went through any sequence of suicide in my head. I would never consciously hurt my Mother or any of my family by taking my own life. But I was totally afraid of what my mind was capable of doing because it was in such mental pain.
Then something happened. I noticed how much pain Yasmin was in as I performed normal daily routines like teeth and face washing, as she had severe sensory difficulties. She would scream in agony but trusted me to continue. It was the same in every little thing she did, like learning, playing and social activities. She wanted to be the same as her friends, so she trudged on. I looked at this little five year old coping with physical and brain challenges. She was learning. No matter how painful a task was or no matter how hard it was, she continued on. I realized there and then that she was sent to me for a reason. To show me how it's done. I truly believe that God sent me Yasmin as a gift, to help me.
I then began to help myself. I had to figure myself out and unscramble the clouds in my brain.
I was able to discover how to live in my Life and thankfully, I am still here.
Sadly, there are thousands of people around the world everyday ending their pain of Life. I don't think there's the right qualifications just yet to treat people in this pain. It's missed so easily at the moment in the medical practice. I know myself that I wouldn't go to see the doctor when I was really bad, I didn't want anyone to see me in that state. So, I took someone else's anti depressants to help me for a couple of weeks before I went to the Doctor.
There's still an enormous amount of embarrassment and shame attached to depression. Families are left blaming themselves when their loved one takes their own life. But if you realize that the person is suffering with a type of cancer of the brain, you might realize how serious depression is. Remember, there is also a huge chemical imbalance in the brain that eats away at you, just like a cancer. And doctors may see a patient looking physically well and completely misdiagnose it. People suffering this severe type of depression are just in a state of severe mental pain and they are full of self hatred and shame for their misconceived weakness. If they could live their Life in their prison cell of their mind and cause you no anguish, they would do so for sure.
But a Life sentence of mental pain and torture is worse than any Life behind bars.
Jean xx
Have you ever really thought about what that word really means and the implications of the word Life? Well, Life is a strong word. It contains so much weight. It's the definition of living. Life for criminals means adapting to a new way of living. A life without freedom and a life without the freedom to make their own decisions and choices. Criminals who have killed and maimed will never experience their own desires again, as long as they are serving Life in prison. And they may well deserve this Life sentence for their crimes, but Life in prison is not easy. Contained in a small cell, it's not for the faint hearted and only few will see it through. Ironically, this is the same experience for people on the outside too.
When a baby comes into this world for the first time, she starts a new Life sentence. I say 'sentence' because she also has no choice in where she is born into and she will have to learn to adapt and grow within her chosen family. Thankfully, nearly all of the population cherishes these gifts from God and they aspire to do a great job in helping these little mites fit into our great planet Earth. But like the criminals in prison, a lot of human beings struggle with Life on the outside.
I myself, had struggled with Life for my first 45 years. I suffered with depression. Of course, there were reasons I had depression and yes it developed in my childhood years, so as a young adult, I realized I needed to go to some self help classes. As the years went on, I was unable to unscramble the clouds in my head and live happily in my 'Life sentence'. My behavior became angry and tearful, sad and resentful. And as my struggles with life was worsening, my behavior became erratic and my mind and body began to feel ill. Don't get me wrong, for all of my adult years, I was continuously trying so hard to become normal, to live my life peacefully and happily. I went to many good counsellors and when my last child Yasmin was born eleven years ago, I had to go on antidepressants.
Life of course has many challenges for people and it may seem that some get too much to bear, as in a prison cell.
When my child was diagnosed with lots of difficulties among other stresses that were going on in my life at the time, I felt my Life was too difficult. I felt I was useless and I felt I was a failure. I completely hated myself. I didn't want to leave my children, in fact, I was terrified of leaving and abandoning them at all. And even though I never planned a suicide, I found myself writing two letters. One to my Solicitor stating my wishes for my children and one to my youngest child's God parent also stating my wishes for her God child. I also left a note for my husband and kids in my diary which I printed in my book 'My Beautiful flower'.
I never went through any sequence of suicide in my head. I would never consciously hurt my Mother or any of my family by taking my own life. But I was totally afraid of what my mind was capable of doing because it was in such mental pain.
Then something happened. I noticed how much pain Yasmin was in as I performed normal daily routines like teeth and face washing, as she had severe sensory difficulties. She would scream in agony but trusted me to continue. It was the same in every little thing she did, like learning, playing and social activities. She wanted to be the same as her friends, so she trudged on. I looked at this little five year old coping with physical and brain challenges. She was learning. No matter how painful a task was or no matter how hard it was, she continued on. I realized there and then that she was sent to me for a reason. To show me how it's done. I truly believe that God sent me Yasmin as a gift, to help me.
I then began to help myself. I had to figure myself out and unscramble the clouds in my brain.
I was able to discover how to live in my Life and thankfully, I am still here.
Sadly, there are thousands of people around the world everyday ending their pain of Life. I don't think there's the right qualifications just yet to treat people in this pain. It's missed so easily at the moment in the medical practice. I know myself that I wouldn't go to see the doctor when I was really bad, I didn't want anyone to see me in that state. So, I took someone else's anti depressants to help me for a couple of weeks before I went to the Doctor.
There's still an enormous amount of embarrassment and shame attached to depression. Families are left blaming themselves when their loved one takes their own life. But if you realize that the person is suffering with a type of cancer of the brain, you might realize how serious depression is. Remember, there is also a huge chemical imbalance in the brain that eats away at you, just like a cancer. And doctors may see a patient looking physically well and completely misdiagnose it. People suffering this severe type of depression are just in a state of severe mental pain and they are full of self hatred and shame for their misconceived weakness. If they could live their Life in their prison cell of their mind and cause you no anguish, they would do so for sure.
But a Life sentence of mental pain and torture is worse than any Life behind bars.
Jean xx
Thursday 27 August 2015
Flushes and Sweats!
We have all heard stories of horrific ways that women are effected while going through 'The Change'. Women literally become monsters while going through the hormonal changes that happen while her body's reproductive system is shutting down. Not to mention, the changing body shape, the wrinkles and the dried up vagina! I certainly wasn't looking forward to it at all and put it to the back of my mind when at age 38 my last child was born.
I remember having night sweats for two or three years after Yasmin's birth. I had heard about night sweats before and their being related to the peri menopause. I assumed that's what was now happening to me. I knew mine were night sweats because I would wake up every night soaking wet, especially around the neck area. I would have to change the sheets each morning. I assumed then that night sweats were the same thing as hot flushes, just with a different name.
When the sweats disappeared, everything seemed to go back to normal and I assumed my peri menopause had paused! (Take into account, my severe depression came on also after having my last child. I had seemed to manage previous post natal depressions from my other children. This one was more extreme. Was the clash of the menopause and my post natal depression together the cause of my very erratic behavior during that time? I wrote my first book 'My Beautiful Flower' three years ago to share my experiences of depression and my struggles to be a mother, available on amazon since March 2015. I have been mentally well most of this year and can feel myself having longer periods of wellness.)
My periods then disappeared when I was 46 years and as each month passed with no sign of them, I was sure I was now in 'The Change.'
Friends had told me that when your period is gone for two years altogether, you've indeed gone through it. However my 'friends' came back after a year for two months and now they've gone again which I'm only too happy about, needless to say!
So now I'm 48 years and I'm having 'Hot Flushes'. They started just a couple of weeks ago. I know they're hot flushes and not sweats because it's like someone has turned on the oven in me. It can happen anytime, day or night and I can feel myself going hot and red all over. Not one to overly sweat, I am not soaking wet, but I can feel beads of sweat coming out over my lip and forehead.
Hot flushes can be embarrassing because people only see you going red and when you're aware of that, you just go redder!
It's funny, because when I was in puberty, I used to go red all of the time, over any little thing. It was the shame of my youth. No wonder I was accused of things, I always looked guilty with a big red face all of the time! I remember when I was doing my trade in a barber shop. I must've been about seventeen at the time. I had finished my ladies hairdressing trade and thought it would be great to have a barbering trade also. I didn't stop to think what it would be like to work in an all men environment. In 1983, they had just started advertising controversial adds on the radio, like the necessity of sanitary pads! I mean, who needs to advertise sanitary pads on anywhere for God's sake? Half our population need them!
But oh my God, when the advertisement came on, it lasted about three whole minutes. Someone was very thorough! Me and every lad in the shop knew everything we needed to know about periods, pads and tampons. I was mortified. The barber shop would be quiet enough with just hair cutting going on, no distractions of a hairdryer at all. My face went beetroot red. I had to leave the room and go to the bathroom!
And each time after that when the ad came on, probably at least five times a day, I had to run out, for fear of anyone noticing my beetroot face! Of course they all did, but there was nothing I could do. I was so embarrassed! The shop would be packed with the whole population of nineteen year old boys!
Thankfully now at my age, there is little that would embarrass me, unless of course I make a fool of myself!
So, I think I'm doing ok with 'The Change'. I think I'm nearly through it. It's only been a short eleven years! My mental health is better, my relationships are better with my children, my husband, my family and friends. Is it a coincidence that while I was suffering depression I was also going through 'The Change'?
Was I that Monster woman?
Oh My God! Yes I was!
Jean xxx
I remember having night sweats for two or three years after Yasmin's birth. I had heard about night sweats before and their being related to the peri menopause. I assumed that's what was now happening to me. I knew mine were night sweats because I would wake up every night soaking wet, especially around the neck area. I would have to change the sheets each morning. I assumed then that night sweats were the same thing as hot flushes, just with a different name.
When the sweats disappeared, everything seemed to go back to normal and I assumed my peri menopause had paused! (Take into account, my severe depression came on also after having my last child. I had seemed to manage previous post natal depressions from my other children. This one was more extreme. Was the clash of the menopause and my post natal depression together the cause of my very erratic behavior during that time? I wrote my first book 'My Beautiful Flower' three years ago to share my experiences of depression and my struggles to be a mother, available on amazon since March 2015. I have been mentally well most of this year and can feel myself having longer periods of wellness.)
My periods then disappeared when I was 46 years and as each month passed with no sign of them, I was sure I was now in 'The Change.'
Friends had told me that when your period is gone for two years altogether, you've indeed gone through it. However my 'friends' came back after a year for two months and now they've gone again which I'm only too happy about, needless to say!
So now I'm 48 years and I'm having 'Hot Flushes'. They started just a couple of weeks ago. I know they're hot flushes and not sweats because it's like someone has turned on the oven in me. It can happen anytime, day or night and I can feel myself going hot and red all over. Not one to overly sweat, I am not soaking wet, but I can feel beads of sweat coming out over my lip and forehead.
Hot flushes can be embarrassing because people only see you going red and when you're aware of that, you just go redder!
It's funny, because when I was in puberty, I used to go red all of the time, over any little thing. It was the shame of my youth. No wonder I was accused of things, I always looked guilty with a big red face all of the time! I remember when I was doing my trade in a barber shop. I must've been about seventeen at the time. I had finished my ladies hairdressing trade and thought it would be great to have a barbering trade also. I didn't stop to think what it would be like to work in an all men environment. In 1983, they had just started advertising controversial adds on the radio, like the necessity of sanitary pads! I mean, who needs to advertise sanitary pads on anywhere for God's sake? Half our population need them!
But oh my God, when the advertisement came on, it lasted about three whole minutes. Someone was very thorough! Me and every lad in the shop knew everything we needed to know about periods, pads and tampons. I was mortified. The barber shop would be quiet enough with just hair cutting going on, no distractions of a hairdryer at all. My face went beetroot red. I had to leave the room and go to the bathroom!
And each time after that when the ad came on, probably at least five times a day, I had to run out, for fear of anyone noticing my beetroot face! Of course they all did, but there was nothing I could do. I was so embarrassed! The shop would be packed with the whole population of nineteen year old boys!
Thankfully now at my age, there is little that would embarrass me, unless of course I make a fool of myself!
So, I think I'm doing ok with 'The Change'. I think I'm nearly through it. It's only been a short eleven years! My mental health is better, my relationships are better with my children, my husband, my family and friends. Is it a coincidence that while I was suffering depression I was also going through 'The Change'?
Was I that Monster woman?
Oh My God! Yes I was!
Jean xxx
Tuesday 25 August 2015
And all because of a dress.....
What goes on inside a woman's mind? I'll never be sure, even though I am a woman! We are complicated, that's for sure. We're sensitive. We take things personally. We are competitive with other women. We don't want another woman having more than us; More beauty, more money, more boyfriends. We are defensive of ourselves. If it seems a woman is having it all, we are jealous of them. We find excuses to fall out with them.
I hear stories day in and day out about women best friends falling out with each other. I've even experienced it myself as I shared in a previous blog. You have to wonder what happens to these women? They have been best friends for life! You know the type, they tell each other everything, they laugh at the same things, they love each other's company and they go everywhere together. But when the big fallout happens, that love soon turns to hate.
I suppose us women drive each other crazy at times, especially if we spend all of our free time with them. We're sure to irritate each other. I have also experienced times in the past, when other women friends had irritated me and I would judge them, blame them for the irritation. Something about them bugged me. I would take no responsibility at all for my own selfish behavior, maybe wanting everything my own way?
I also think our expectations of our woman friends are too high. We depend on them too much. Somehow, we forget that they are only human and they make mistakes in friendships just like us.
I also don't think that we are truly honest with them either and that's a big problem. We sometimes go along with things that might not suit us. If we seem to be doing everything that the other woman friend wants to do, it will inevitably cause trouble, at the very least, unhappiness in the friendship.
When our women friends behave in a way that you may think is stupid or out of line and you criticize them for it, you are not allowing for that person to be who she is. You start to judge her. You compare her to you and all of a sudden you think your way might be better than hers and the little annoying things she does, begin to develop into huge things that really bother you about her. You of course begin to hold resentment towards her and don't speak to her about it. After all, how can you say anything to her? It's not really any of your business how she behaves in life, until one day, something totally irrelevant happens that you can say something about and all hell breaks loose.
She chooses the same color dress as you for an important occasion! That's all it takes. It doesn't matter if the dress is completely different. It doesn't matter if you're prettier, smarter, richer than your friend. You've had it! You don't care if that color suits your friend better than the other colors. You forget all of the fun times and memories that you have shared together and you go in for the kill. You lose your head completely and you throw in how hurt YOU feel. (Notice you don't care how she feels?) You'll never be able to forgive her so you dump your friendship. You're done with her. You just can't take anymore of her.
Your devastated girlfriend has no idea what's happening.
'Is this all because of a dress?' She wonders sadly.
How many other people are effected by this same dress? The relevant families, siblings and other long time friends are all now taking sides and avoiding each other.
The rift grows too far apart to repair.
So are we women dishonest? Shallow?
We need to search deep inside our minds to work these issues out. We really need to think the issue through and own our stuff, acknowledge if we are being unreasonable. I think we all know when we are being unreasonable and stubborn and if we don't, we need to concentrate hard. If we accept our own responsibility for our own dishonesty in the friendship, we'll be able to accept that a lot of the issues that bothered us about our female friends were caused by ourselves. Because while we were laughing and giggling and playing around, we didn't express our real self to our friends. We women are always aiming for our own perfection. We don't express that we are weak and needy at times.
So, we may feel we've been hard done by, because we feel we deserve more from our friend. After all, aren't we doing stuff for her that we don't want too?
Does she know this? Is she a mind reader?
Don't dump her, talk to her!
Jean xxx
I hear stories day in and day out about women best friends falling out with each other. I've even experienced it myself as I shared in a previous blog. You have to wonder what happens to these women? They have been best friends for life! You know the type, they tell each other everything, they laugh at the same things, they love each other's company and they go everywhere together. But when the big fallout happens, that love soon turns to hate.
I suppose us women drive each other crazy at times, especially if we spend all of our free time with them. We're sure to irritate each other. I have also experienced times in the past, when other women friends had irritated me and I would judge them, blame them for the irritation. Something about them bugged me. I would take no responsibility at all for my own selfish behavior, maybe wanting everything my own way?
I also think our expectations of our woman friends are too high. We depend on them too much. Somehow, we forget that they are only human and they make mistakes in friendships just like us.
I also don't think that we are truly honest with them either and that's a big problem. We sometimes go along with things that might not suit us. If we seem to be doing everything that the other woman friend wants to do, it will inevitably cause trouble, at the very least, unhappiness in the friendship.
When our women friends behave in a way that you may think is stupid or out of line and you criticize them for it, you are not allowing for that person to be who she is. You start to judge her. You compare her to you and all of a sudden you think your way might be better than hers and the little annoying things she does, begin to develop into huge things that really bother you about her. You of course begin to hold resentment towards her and don't speak to her about it. After all, how can you say anything to her? It's not really any of your business how she behaves in life, until one day, something totally irrelevant happens that you can say something about and all hell breaks loose.
She chooses the same color dress as you for an important occasion! That's all it takes. It doesn't matter if the dress is completely different. It doesn't matter if you're prettier, smarter, richer than your friend. You've had it! You don't care if that color suits your friend better than the other colors. You forget all of the fun times and memories that you have shared together and you go in for the kill. You lose your head completely and you throw in how hurt YOU feel. (Notice you don't care how she feels?) You'll never be able to forgive her so you dump your friendship. You're done with her. You just can't take anymore of her.
Your devastated girlfriend has no idea what's happening.
'Is this all because of a dress?' She wonders sadly.
How many other people are effected by this same dress? The relevant families, siblings and other long time friends are all now taking sides and avoiding each other.
The rift grows too far apart to repair.
So are we women dishonest? Shallow?
We need to search deep inside our minds to work these issues out. We really need to think the issue through and own our stuff, acknowledge if we are being unreasonable. I think we all know when we are being unreasonable and stubborn and if we don't, we need to concentrate hard. If we accept our own responsibility for our own dishonesty in the friendship, we'll be able to accept that a lot of the issues that bothered us about our female friends were caused by ourselves. Because while we were laughing and giggling and playing around, we didn't express our real self to our friends. We women are always aiming for our own perfection. We don't express that we are weak and needy at times.
So, we may feel we've been hard done by, because we feel we deserve more from our friend. After all, aren't we doing stuff for her that we don't want too?
Does she know this? Is she a mind reader?
Don't dump her, talk to her!
Jean xxx
Thursday 20 August 2015
You think it's easy being a woman!
Isn't it funny how the most difficult thing to do in life is to get along with people? Any people, of all ages but especially women. Why are women so difficult to get along with? We're cagey around each other, cautious. As a woman myself, I have had to manoeuvre myself through my life amongst women. In the home, in the workplace, in social areas. When I was a little girl growing up in the streets of Dublin city, I had plenty of hairs pulled from my head in cat fights to state my place on the road. It was very similar in the workplace too without the physical hair pulling, but the women there would verbally hair pull you!
Why are we like this?
It starts as early as when baby girls are born. They are adorably cute. They soon become assertive toddlers, then bossy little girls, then moody young women and then angry old women.
Does our initial cuteness grow into attention neediness? And when we don't get the attention needed, do we become jealous? Spiteful?
We are quite an emotional genre. We are so full of drama. We are so easily threatened!
There's the initial threat from other women. How they look. If they're beautiful, God help them! That just makes us envious (and envy is the route of all evil as we know). Add in a bit of talent, deduct more more marks for that! If they're smart, mothers, career women and seem to carry it all off with relative ease, they will be hated!
God help the woman who has cute looking kids! Resentment will be passed on to the threatened women's kids who will happily torture the cute kids forever!
It will be worse for the wealthy woman, she will be silently resented. The other women may allow her into their circles, but only to keep an eye on her, to find out her weakness's and use them against her when the time comes.
We all know it would be disastrous for a woman to run the world. One bad period and everybody would be blown up! Don't underestimate a woman's periods, or the damage they are allowed to do. (I say allowed because we can be controlled!) The woman spends 30 days in constant hormonal upheaval. She's happy, she's sad, she's moody, she's angry and she can turn into the Devil Incarnate at a moment's notice! Can you imagine her making Head of State decisions?
Just look at the damage Margaret Thatcher and Marie Antoinette did. They were typical resentful women. They had no empathy for others. Both from completely different times had the same stubbornness that left their country man starving.
Everything is so personal with a woman.
So how do we women live together side by side, without constant bloodshed?
Some of us become submissive. We give in. We know we have to do everything to keep the peace with the other women. We go along with things to be accepted. We suit them rather than ourselves.
We dress down and blend into the shadows.
It's much easier to be no threat to another woman because if another woman decides to get her claws into you, she won't stop till she destroys.
Jean xxx
Why are we like this?
It starts as early as when baby girls are born. They are adorably cute. They soon become assertive toddlers, then bossy little girls, then moody young women and then angry old women.
Does our initial cuteness grow into attention neediness? And when we don't get the attention needed, do we become jealous? Spiteful?
We are quite an emotional genre. We are so full of drama. We are so easily threatened!
There's the initial threat from other women. How they look. If they're beautiful, God help them! That just makes us envious (and envy is the route of all evil as we know). Add in a bit of talent, deduct more more marks for that! If they're smart, mothers, career women and seem to carry it all off with relative ease, they will be hated!
God help the woman who has cute looking kids! Resentment will be passed on to the threatened women's kids who will happily torture the cute kids forever!
It will be worse for the wealthy woman, she will be silently resented. The other women may allow her into their circles, but only to keep an eye on her, to find out her weakness's and use them against her when the time comes.
We all know it would be disastrous for a woman to run the world. One bad period and everybody would be blown up! Don't underestimate a woman's periods, or the damage they are allowed to do. (I say allowed because we can be controlled!) The woman spends 30 days in constant hormonal upheaval. She's happy, she's sad, she's moody, she's angry and she can turn into the Devil Incarnate at a moment's notice! Can you imagine her making Head of State decisions?
Just look at the damage Margaret Thatcher and Marie Antoinette did. They were typical resentful women. They had no empathy for others. Both from completely different times had the same stubbornness that left their country man starving.
Everything is so personal with a woman.
So how do we women live together side by side, without constant bloodshed?
Some of us become submissive. We give in. We know we have to do everything to keep the peace with the other women. We go along with things to be accepted. We suit them rather than ourselves.
We dress down and blend into the shadows.
It's much easier to be no threat to another woman because if another woman decides to get her claws into you, she won't stop till she destroys.
Jean xxx
Wednesday 12 August 2015
Some things never change!
We are quite privileged in Ireland to have our Dublin Airport in the midst of hectares of fields in Swords, County Dublin. There is plenty of room in the circumference of the airport for people to come and watch the planes taking off and landing. Isn't it amazing that this common day practice can hold people's attention for hours?
We know planes can fly, they've been doing it for nearly one hundred years now, but I think us common people are still fascinated by how they do it. It just seems so effortless for this tonne of weight to lift itself up into the air. Not too bothered about how things work myself, I don't really have that kind of interest in them but they do still amaze me. And as I was driving past the 'plane watchers' this morning, it brought me back to the time when my Dad used to bring me and my sisters to the exact same place to watch the planes during our very young years of three, four and five.
My Dad died in 2006 at age 64 of cancer. I wrote a lot about him in my book, 'My Beautiful Flower', but there was so much that I didn't put in.
Dad would only have been a young man of about 29 years when I was a five year old. He was over six foot in height and was of lean build. He worked in Buckley's abattoir in Camden street, so he was used to lifting cows onto his back then. He had a head of thick, curly black hair and lovely blue eyes. He had always loved Elvis and he like most young teenage boys of even today had gone down the route of trying to be a guitar player before he married my Mam, (which apparently, he sold his guitar to buy her engagement ring!) I look at my own handsome son of almost 26 years and although he's fair haired, he reminds me a lot of my dad. He's not as tall as my dad, Anthony stops at six foot, but he has a lot of his mannerisms!
We lived in Ballymun flats till I was about seven years of age, so we had plenty of visits to Dublin airport to watch the planes. Dad was proud of his three little girls, Olive with brown curly hair, me with black curly hair and josie with blonde curly hair, (My Mam had red hair!) Sharon was only a baby back home and Eleanor and Christine hadn't come along yet. Dad would park the Buckley's van on the side of the airport road and he'd lift us onto the bonnet. He'd take out the sandwiches Mam made for us and we'd sit there for hours eagerly waiting for the planes to land and then take off again.
And you know, forty years on, there are still Dad's who are parked there in that very same place on the side of the road and they sit their children on their car bonnets. Things haven't even changed that much with aeroplanes! They still do more or less the same thing, they still look pretty much the same! The side of the road hasn't even changed, it hasn't been cemented in, it hasn't even been walled around. It still has the old hill right behind where the cars reverse in for the the best viewing spot. How many more Daddy's brought their kids there on a Sunday morning while the Mammy at home prepared the Sunday dinner? There should be some kind of monument for Daddy's right there in that spot.
I remember my Dad was so encouraging, telling us everything about the planes, how they took off, how they flew in the air. He had never even flown in an aeroplane before, but he always spoke of when he would and he would go to Australia too! He was such a young man, with great dreams for his life. Unfortunately, for Dad and the other young Irish Dad's of that time, the 1970's recession was about to hit and ten years on the dole queue killed my Dad's spirit and dreams.
When he was dying, he was wondering what he had done in his life. He really thought he was a failure. He said all he did was mess up in life. Thankfully, all his girls told him he was great and he did his best and he taught us loads. Because he did. He and many other Father's like him. He thought us to be tough. To work hard. To love your family. Was there anything more he could have done?
Jean xx
We know planes can fly, they've been doing it for nearly one hundred years now, but I think us common people are still fascinated by how they do it. It just seems so effortless for this tonne of weight to lift itself up into the air. Not too bothered about how things work myself, I don't really have that kind of interest in them but they do still amaze me. And as I was driving past the 'plane watchers' this morning, it brought me back to the time when my Dad used to bring me and my sisters to the exact same place to watch the planes during our very young years of three, four and five.
My Dad died in 2006 at age 64 of cancer. I wrote a lot about him in my book, 'My Beautiful Flower', but there was so much that I didn't put in.
Dad would only have been a young man of about 29 years when I was a five year old. He was over six foot in height and was of lean build. He worked in Buckley's abattoir in Camden street, so he was used to lifting cows onto his back then. He had a head of thick, curly black hair and lovely blue eyes. He had always loved Elvis and he like most young teenage boys of even today had gone down the route of trying to be a guitar player before he married my Mam, (which apparently, he sold his guitar to buy her engagement ring!) I look at my own handsome son of almost 26 years and although he's fair haired, he reminds me a lot of my dad. He's not as tall as my dad, Anthony stops at six foot, but he has a lot of his mannerisms!
We lived in Ballymun flats till I was about seven years of age, so we had plenty of visits to Dublin airport to watch the planes. Dad was proud of his three little girls, Olive with brown curly hair, me with black curly hair and josie with blonde curly hair, (My Mam had red hair!) Sharon was only a baby back home and Eleanor and Christine hadn't come along yet. Dad would park the Buckley's van on the side of the airport road and he'd lift us onto the bonnet. He'd take out the sandwiches Mam made for us and we'd sit there for hours eagerly waiting for the planes to land and then take off again.
And you know, forty years on, there are still Dad's who are parked there in that very same place on the side of the road and they sit their children on their car bonnets. Things haven't even changed that much with aeroplanes! They still do more or less the same thing, they still look pretty much the same! The side of the road hasn't even changed, it hasn't been cemented in, it hasn't even been walled around. It still has the old hill right behind where the cars reverse in for the the best viewing spot. How many more Daddy's brought their kids there on a Sunday morning while the Mammy at home prepared the Sunday dinner? There should be some kind of monument for Daddy's right there in that spot.
I remember my Dad was so encouraging, telling us everything about the planes, how they took off, how they flew in the air. He had never even flown in an aeroplane before, but he always spoke of when he would and he would go to Australia too! He was such a young man, with great dreams for his life. Unfortunately, for Dad and the other young Irish Dad's of that time, the 1970's recession was about to hit and ten years on the dole queue killed my Dad's spirit and dreams.
When he was dying, he was wondering what he had done in his life. He really thought he was a failure. He said all he did was mess up in life. Thankfully, all his girls told him he was great and he did his best and he taught us loads. Because he did. He and many other Father's like him. He thought us to be tough. To work hard. To love your family. Was there anything more he could have done?
Jean xx
Tuesday 11 August 2015
How come I'm so lucky?
You know, when I was struggling with depression, one of the things I couldn't do was look at the television news or read the newspaper, as I shared in my book, 'My Beautiful Flower'.
The devastation effected me; The murders, the plane crashes, the individual country catastrophes. Everything was bad news. I wasn't alone in this respect, lots of people without depression can find the news upsetting to watch. It's the instant media coverage that shows you people's tragedy's and pain right at their moment of despair. You can't help but feel their pain and add it to your own. Every station seemed to have reports on serious events around the world. Bad news in that instantaneous appearance is like an epidemic. It can seem like it's on your own doorstep and that it will soon happen to you.
Especially when something happens to citizens of your country. I'm not sure anything can top the sadness of the 'Berkley Tragedy', when six of our beautiful young Irish college students were killed in the freak incident of the balcony collapsing. That pain was shared by all of us Irish at home. The loss of these youth in the prime of their lives was a difficult burden for us, but inevitably, it is the parents and families and friends who have to carry the real burden of loss. It's easy to understand why people then live in fear. Preventing themselves living to the fullness of their lives.
As a mother who has given the freedom of travel to my second child, this time a girl of only gone twenty, I am indeed so grateful to God that he doesn't give me that difficult cross to carry. Because I know the weight would be too great to bear. Sarah will finish her three month job placement with Busch Garden's in Virginia on the 7th September and thankfully her experience is a safe and fun one.
But do we all get our own type of cross to carry? I think we do. Although I think nothing can ever compare to the loss of your child, each person in life has a challenge to deal with.
I've been fairly lucky in life, accident wise. And thank God again, my children and extended family seem to be lucky physically also. But we do have our challenges, none the less.
Things don't come easy to us dysfunctional women of Ireland. We learn the hard way in life. Maybe because we had little education growing up and fathers who spent a lot of our growing up time angry and drunk. Speaking for myself, I take a long time to learn about life and I more times walk myself into trouble rather than out of it, (Actually, I think I'm getting a bit better on that issue, I'm 48 now after all!)
And again, maybe because we didn't have great education, we found ourselves in minimum wage jobs. We have to work much harder than anyone else just to be able to borrow to have the things we want.
I'm not whinging about this and I know that probably 80% of the population is in the same boat as well as suffering the stress of sickness and loss in their families.
But let's not underestimate the stress that money worries can cause.
When 'The Celtic Tiger' arrived in the 1990's Ireland, our cost of living rose rapidly. It was the first time that ordinary Irish trade workers could afford material things that they had only seen the rich enjoy, like dressing up in designer brands, going on cruises, having new homes and new cars. We began to invest in the stock and property market as advised by the government for better returns on our hard earned cash;
Remember, we earned this money, we were doing nothing wrong! We were all trying to aim for that comfortable retirement plan. When the crash came in 2006, it wasn't that we weren't able to cope with being poor again, we had only had a short taste of wealth to begin with, but now, we were back to the 80's on an earning thresh hold. Our payouts are now rising at the current inflation rates and our income is heavily taxed so there never seems to be enough money to cover it all.
I dressed one growing primary school girl in uniforms yesterday and got all her books and supply's for the coming year. I'll have a college fee due for my second year art student daughter in September and I just wonder how people manage with more than two dependent children!
I really feel sorry for my husband who has managed so far to keep his construction business going through-out these past eight years, pay his employees and keep a family going. Myself and my husband argue over money. I guess he thinks I spend more than I should, that I might be able to get some things cheaper. He honestly doesn't believe that I am a very contentious shopper! Especially since the recession, I can tell you the price of milk in various stores! I really do know where to get the best value. Both my girls were born with learning difficulties, Yasmin's were more severe, but Sarah's was quite social. Sarah's love of horses since she was age three has helped her grow and mature through her life. It has given her a skill that she is confident in. Yasmin's difficulties were more physical, but she loved horses too! Having her own pony has given her great physical strength and personal confidence. Having your own horses in livery and at competition level, I will tell you, takes every penny you have; But if you could see how it's helped my girls, you would follow that route for your children also!
I wouldn't change a thing. I gladly do without my own luxuries to make sure that I am educating my children, physically, emotionally and nutritionally. This is my challenge.
Jean xx
The devastation effected me; The murders, the plane crashes, the individual country catastrophes. Everything was bad news. I wasn't alone in this respect, lots of people without depression can find the news upsetting to watch. It's the instant media coverage that shows you people's tragedy's and pain right at their moment of despair. You can't help but feel their pain and add it to your own. Every station seemed to have reports on serious events around the world. Bad news in that instantaneous appearance is like an epidemic. It can seem like it's on your own doorstep and that it will soon happen to you.
Especially when something happens to citizens of your country. I'm not sure anything can top the sadness of the 'Berkley Tragedy', when six of our beautiful young Irish college students were killed in the freak incident of the balcony collapsing. That pain was shared by all of us Irish at home. The loss of these youth in the prime of their lives was a difficult burden for us, but inevitably, it is the parents and families and friends who have to carry the real burden of loss. It's easy to understand why people then live in fear. Preventing themselves living to the fullness of their lives.
As a mother who has given the freedom of travel to my second child, this time a girl of only gone twenty, I am indeed so grateful to God that he doesn't give me that difficult cross to carry. Because I know the weight would be too great to bear. Sarah will finish her three month job placement with Busch Garden's in Virginia on the 7th September and thankfully her experience is a safe and fun one.
But do we all get our own type of cross to carry? I think we do. Although I think nothing can ever compare to the loss of your child, each person in life has a challenge to deal with.
I've been fairly lucky in life, accident wise. And thank God again, my children and extended family seem to be lucky physically also. But we do have our challenges, none the less.
Things don't come easy to us dysfunctional women of Ireland. We learn the hard way in life. Maybe because we had little education growing up and fathers who spent a lot of our growing up time angry and drunk. Speaking for myself, I take a long time to learn about life and I more times walk myself into trouble rather than out of it, (Actually, I think I'm getting a bit better on that issue, I'm 48 now after all!)
And again, maybe because we didn't have great education, we found ourselves in minimum wage jobs. We have to work much harder than anyone else just to be able to borrow to have the things we want.
I'm not whinging about this and I know that probably 80% of the population is in the same boat as well as suffering the stress of sickness and loss in their families.
But let's not underestimate the stress that money worries can cause.
When 'The Celtic Tiger' arrived in the 1990's Ireland, our cost of living rose rapidly. It was the first time that ordinary Irish trade workers could afford material things that they had only seen the rich enjoy, like dressing up in designer brands, going on cruises, having new homes and new cars. We began to invest in the stock and property market as advised by the government for better returns on our hard earned cash;
Remember, we earned this money, we were doing nothing wrong! We were all trying to aim for that comfortable retirement plan. When the crash came in 2006, it wasn't that we weren't able to cope with being poor again, we had only had a short taste of wealth to begin with, but now, we were back to the 80's on an earning thresh hold. Our payouts are now rising at the current inflation rates and our income is heavily taxed so there never seems to be enough money to cover it all.
I dressed one growing primary school girl in uniforms yesterday and got all her books and supply's for the coming year. I'll have a college fee due for my second year art student daughter in September and I just wonder how people manage with more than two dependent children!
I really feel sorry for my husband who has managed so far to keep his construction business going through-out these past eight years, pay his employees and keep a family going. Myself and my husband argue over money. I guess he thinks I spend more than I should, that I might be able to get some things cheaper. He honestly doesn't believe that I am a very contentious shopper! Especially since the recession, I can tell you the price of milk in various stores! I really do know where to get the best value. Both my girls were born with learning difficulties, Yasmin's were more severe, but Sarah's was quite social. Sarah's love of horses since she was age three has helped her grow and mature through her life. It has given her a skill that she is confident in. Yasmin's difficulties were more physical, but she loved horses too! Having her own pony has given her great physical strength and personal confidence. Having your own horses in livery and at competition level, I will tell you, takes every penny you have; But if you could see how it's helped my girls, you would follow that route for your children also!
I wouldn't change a thing. I gladly do without my own luxuries to make sure that I am educating my children, physically, emotionally and nutritionally. This is my challenge.
Jean xx
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