lucycurley's Blog

I can remember, I must have been about eight or so when I figured that I had narrowly missed out on having sallow skin. Skin without freckles or red patches that actually turned brown in the sun. Brown. God, I wanted to be brown SO badly. And at that age it was becoming apparent that it was never, ever going to happen. I was a child of a fair, freckled father and a dark haired, sallow skinned...

I met my best friend in MAC the other day. That corner of Brown Thomas has been our meeting spot for quite a few years now. So long that I was thinking, as I was heading down Grafton Street(rushing, as I'd just got her text "I'm in bits!" which turned out to mean "I'm in B.T.'s!), maybe at our age we should be meeting at the Clarins counter? Its only when I think about it, (which is not a very...

One of my sons is not very sociable. He is a unique and wonderful and clever and funny boy, but the knack of making friends is a little late in coming. He's happy but as any mother can imagine, it worries me. Less now than in the past, I am pleased to say. I can see now that while he does not have any close friends in school, he has finally got the maturity to make some in the future. He did...

We had a choice. Drive to Ikea and buy a new chest of drawers and spend an hour or two assembling them and cursing all flatpack furniture. Or not drive to Ikea and fix our current, worn out chest of drawers. We chose the latter. That is how I ended up in our bed, reading stories to my four year old while his nine and twelve year old brothers pootered about, as we waited until their dad finished...

We've been getting the ferry to France for a few years now. Prior to that for Summer holidays we rented a house in the West of Ireland. Which was lovely, but so wet and windy. I think it was the year we bought thermal vests for our kids, or maybe the year we got a half hour of sunshine in two weeks that prompted us that it might be time for a change. So, we bought a tent and booked the ferry...

We cook a lot in our house. Of course we do – there are six of us. A Mum, a Dad, and four sons ranging from four years to thirteen. We roast chickens, boil the bones for stock and actually use said stock for soup. We knead our own pizza dough, peel our own carrots and bake fish in tin foil. But, we’re normal too. Our kids, as well as eating healthy dinners, guzzle Nutella like drunks at...

I saw the school sniper on Thursday. There I was standing at the pedestrian lights, tilting the buggy so my little son could press the button and she descended on me. It is always pleasant at first. She has such a warm manner, asking how I am, telling me she feels exactly the same, making me feel popular and liked and, ridiculous as it may sound, important. “We must arrange a playdate” she...

My husband has gone running. About a year ago one of my book club friends lent me Run Fat Bitch Run and even though I read it and found it pretty motivating, it could not tempt me to run. Nothing can, running hurts my knees. So, thinking myself very clever, I read it and used the motivation to swim more regularly, gradually building up the number of lengths I did. This all lasted about three...

The phrase school tour has a whole new meaning for me now. It no longer involves buses or pocket money or treaty lunches, now it means simply, touring a school. Yes, it is that time; I have to choose a secondary school for my eldest son. Anyone who knows my husband or I will be aware that decision making is not our strong point. So, for the past year I have been asking anyone who will listen for...

Finding kids books with nice illustrations, a story that has them leaning in to follow and wording which rolls easily off the tongue is a wonderful thing. I know they’re not the presents delivering heady excitement on Christmas morning but later in the holidays, when the house is visitor free, curling up on the couch with a new book is very special. Here are a few of my favourites. They are not...