Does My Nappy Look Big in This?

                        

For as long as their have been teenage girls there have been risqué clothes smuggled out of homes in backpacks.

My Sis was way ahead of the curve with this, taking off her school polo neck in the leithreas from under her pinafore circa 1st class because it ‘choked’ her. Nudey underneath? No problem. She was a trendsetter.

I guess it may be a universal sign of getting older when you look at younger (& younger) girls wearing less and less and think ‘Not in my day’. There is no doubt that technology is advancing exponentially, putting the uncensored online world right into their pocket, literally. That the Yoof of today are exposed to sexuality and sexual images long before they have the emotional or rational thought process to see them for what they are and how, if at all, they apply to them. Of course said Yoof don’t see it like this, no more than we did.

As a treat for the eldest lad finishing his Junior Cert we went to SummerJam in the O2 on Tuesday night. Several different acts were playing, Ke$ha, LMFAO etc. I knew from the outset that the crowd would be fairly young. I have never felt as old or as overdressed in all of my 33 years. I like to kid myself that because there’s not a huge age gap between the lads and I that I’m not easily shocked, we’re on the same level. Yeah right.

First thing that hit me was the smell of the crowds, Aaron reliably informed me ‘That’s fake tan & lipgloss’ Smelled more like cheap perfume and fear if we’re honest. Making our way to our seats we were greeted by sight after sight, short shorts, bras, actual Oompa Loompas in mini skirts. The time and effort (and money) that must have gone into making these early teen girls up is mind boggling. Ain’t no way, no how we looked like that at that age. There I said it.

While thanking my lucky stars that I had boys a younger girl caught my eye. She wore suede tasselled hot pants with a matching tasselled bra. Nipple tassels. On a 13 year old. Aghast I said ‘Sweet Mother of God, look at HER’ in 2 simple words Adam’s response worried more than he has in his 14yrs. ‘I am’ says he.

Love at First Rub - Estée Lauder Idealist Illuminator Review

My first product review! Was planning on waiting to do this but, after several more compliments today, couldn't.

I bought the Idealist Illuminator as an afterthought and in the frenzied WANT of the Estée Lauder gift (Beautiful navy patent shoulder bag stuffed with goodies). My main purchase was the EL Bronze Goddess Soleil scent, which is se-here-riously gawjus, my new summer scent & the star of an upcoming post.

Anyway, EL idealist is pricey at €56 for 30ml in Boots but me, being me, rounded it down to €100 for the two. I have to say it is, by far, the best €56 I've spent on a long while.

It claims as their first fast acting serum to dramatically reduce the look of uneven tone, dark spots, blotchiness & sun spots. And by God does it deliver. The SA recommended to use it morning and night before moisturiser for the first couple of days then once a day after that.

The product itself is a pearly lemonish iridescent gel like serum that has the scent of sweet citrus, I had taken a couple of swatch photos but on account of them looking a little, er, rude decided to leave them out.

I cannot state enough the dramatic difference this has made to my skin in a short space of time. Within a day or so I was doing a double take in the mirror, now 12 days later I am receiving compliments from several people a day. Its that good. I have noticed a big difference in my pores, which I didn't realise was a focus of this product but also the general evenness of my skin tone now is astounding. My face looks lighter, brighter and well healthier.

I have one tiny patch of pigmented skin high on my cheek, that my mother affectionately calls my 'prison mark' because she knows how much I love it (Not) and I think my real Aha moment of Grá for this product was when I noticed it has all but disappeared. In 12 days people!

EL you have surpassed yourself with this one and in one illuminating stroke become my new HG fave.

How do you Clean Yours?

                                    

Safe in the knowledge that I will eventually progress to posts about how to clean my Mercedes SLK or indeed how to clean my South of France retirement home I can pose the everyday question – How do you clean your place?

Being short on time and even shorter on inclination my cleaning/blitzing habits tend to change given anything else of interest that might be happening in my life. Under constant threat though of the NinjaNan, appearing when you least expect her I think I need a better strategy.

As with every aspect of my life I’m always on the hunt for timesaving methods. More so for getting the boring cleaning stuff out of the way, such as say having children and guilting them into doing the monotonous bits. Which, I might add, they’re fairly snazzy at (Future Daughters in Law, you’re welcome!)

Discussing this very topic my younger Sis put me on the wonders of Cillit Bang, for absolutely everything. She did warn me though that if I were to use it in the loo to be mindful to warn the lads to flush before use following an unfortunate incident when her Hubby forgot to do just that. Let’s just say when the ad comes on in her house the tagline is met with a chorus of ‘Bang & your ring is gone’.

When work was manic and study was getting on top of me I was known, occasionally, to feign illness when unexpected visitors called – with the backup story of being couch bound (Realistically, not a lie at all).

For the most part though I employ what I like to call 'Operation When a Stranger Calls', this involves looking into each room with a ‘strangers eyes’ to gauge the level of piggery, happy in the knowledge that I’m doing ok. Save perhaps the occasional tumbleweed of Diesel’s hair (Big, fat dawg) during the summer months.

So how do you keep on top of it? Are your ninnies hidden under cushions? Or do you do black bags attacks like my father used to? – if you owned it & wanted it you’d 5 minutes to get it up or it would be lost forever! Ah good times.

Ergo

Are there limits to the credit you can take for your children’s talent and personalities? I don’t think so, my youngest, Adam, disagrees.

I should rationalise this by explaining that being the only girl in our little family the majority of our familial interactions revolve around mild name calling, veiled threats and occasional ‘batings’ (roughhousing). All coming from a place of Love though, just so we’re clear.

Having been schooled in the Dojo of 2 big brothers myself, to be fair, I always have the advantage. It’s not ladylike but it works for us. Their sharp wit and ability to laugh at absolutely anything though, awes me almost every day. When friends say ‘sure they get that from you’ I can’t help but feel a little bit chuffed.

Said youngest, is hugely talented when it comes to art, crafts or anything he puts his mind to. He knows this. Partially because I praise him unashamedly and partially because he has more confidence and self assuredness by nature than any ‘awkward teenager’ has a right to have. His elder brother, Aaron, is more of a philosopher, a deep thinker with a heart of gold who would unquestioningly lie down in traffic for you should you ask him. He’s a technological genius but unless you catch him at it you’d never know. Let’s just say I know who’ll be buying my blue rinses when the time comes.

Let me demonstrate my point about credit though: I love all things quirky and like to thank people if they’ve helped me out. Recently as Thanks for study notes I’d missed I sent a good friend an email with this attached:

                          

Thinking it was cute I texted the boys with the picture, within, let’s say 15 mins; I received this picture reply from Adam:

Getting over spitting coffee onto my desk with an outburst of laughter & the fleeting thought that I may need to budget for a child psychologist I showed it to my boss and texted him back…

Me: ‘My boss says I’m hilarious’

Adam: ‘What do you mean you are?!, I made it!’

Me: ‘Yes, you made it but I made you. Ergo, I’m awesome’.

I can only imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose with a slow headshake as I got no response.

Moi

Have been racking my brain night & day (singular) to come up with a decent post to identify my USP and a reason why Blogville might want to read my ramblings. I have ranged from my Mother's assessment of me, 'You were always hard on shoes' to my youngest's admission 'If you weren't here, who'd do the shopping?' and have landed somewhere in the middle. 


Having read the hugely supportive comments on Twitter though and followed this evening's #bblogger I can safely say I'm not going to stress any longer. Future posts will be longer, deffny funnier and, hopefully, will represent the one subject I know the most & the least about. Moi!


I can't pinpoint a personal USP right now, maybe the fact that I'm finding time to indulge in a blog while working full time, volunteering and mothering teens & a big, fat dawg? But as elements come to me you'll be the first to know (With pictures). 

Oh Hai BlogLand

Here we are, my first post. This is several steps further than I've come in months. Having been inspired by the fabulous Kirstie & Aisling from Beaut.ie and subsequently wonderful Blatherers that have, literally, made my world a little more beautiful - here I am. Blogging. Me.  
Yes, I'm having flashbacks of Barney 'Have you seen my Blog' Stinson but I'm writing this and you're reading it. (Yay)
I may take a while to find my feet and direction but signposts are saying beauty, all things cultural and a little single,working mommadom to 2 teenage heartthrobs thrown in. 
So please stick with me, it will get more interesting. I swears.