Remember Saturdays before children? No? Me neither. I, too, have consciously blocked out the memories. The loss is too great. The pain, too much. And while I don’t recall specific details, I do remember the delicious, slow laziness of it all.


The buck and the three-year-old joined the local soccer club this morning. So at 8.45am on a Saturday morning, I have all three kids in the car. Nobody is happy. I was out last night (important detail required to fully understand the level of effort we are talking about here.) We’re trudging across the community centre car park in that seemingly innocuous wet mist which manages to soak you to the skin in an instant. We have armfuls of water bottles, hoodies and toys which have been brought along to bear witness to the event.  You can imagine the scene: raincoats dripping; crotchety squirming toddler; tiny footballers everywhere; parents looking forlorn and tired, wondering how it has come to this.  At 8.45 am on a Saturday morning. 8.45. Saturday. My 20-year-old self wouldn’t believe it. My 30-year-old self would even have trouble.

I had no intention of signing the three year old up for anything this year. She’s quite young and at this age she won’t afford me the peace to a) spend an uninterrupted hour on social media, b) chat properly with mom-friends or c) scarper for a coffee and a doughnut somewhere. And there’s always the possibility of having to participate awkwardly in some sort of song and dance class, so it’s altogether unappealing.


The soccer, however, was different because herself and the buck could both do their thing, at the same time AND it coincided with the local parkrun in the same location. Boom! There it was. Things falling into place. Stars aligning. This might actually work.  I’ll drop ’em off, wave and cheer for the first ten minutes, run my 5K and come back in time for the end, feeling like a rock-star who has won at both parenting and fitness before brunch. Score. Pun intended.

In this reverie, I am running 5K in 25 minutes. (I’m on the clock and I have 30, at a push.) I have run 5K a total of three times in my life. And when I say ‘run’, I mean run a bit, want to die, walk some, run some more, stop, partake in very dramatic hands-on-hips panting culminating in a doubled over position and hobble the last kilometer. I’ve never done 5K in under 30 minutes. But hey, this is my vision and who am I to get in the way of those perfectly-aligned stars?

The reverie is rudely interrupted. The usually boisterous, confident, independent three-year-old has become a cling-on; head cocked, eyes down, attached to my leg, not playing ball. Literally. I am forced to cajole her into playing by taking her hand and PARTICIPATING! Running after balls, jumping over little coloured cones, feigning delight. All before coffee.

My rise to athletic grandeur will have to wait. This is Saturday morning now. And the swim class starts in an hour.


Linking this post with…

Mummuddlingthrough          themumproject   Modern Dad Pages


    • Sinéad Reply

      Thanks, Valerie! Congratulations, you have written the first ever comment on the blog! Big moment! That means I have to buy you a pint.

  1. So true – we went through all the Saturday morning dance classes. And then tried to fit family visits or whatever else in there on Saturdays. Now that the kids are bigger, dance classes are in the evenings (not sure if that’s better or worse) and I can drop and run. It’s quite amazing actually!

    Visiting from #coolmumclub!

    • Sinéad Reply

      ‘Drop and Run.’ Those words, in that order… so perfect! My time shall come. ????Thanks for stopping by, Jessica! 🙂

  2. Oh my goodness I remember someone asking me if I was going to sign my three year old up for Saturday morning ballet and I was like HELL NO! for exactly these reasons. My sympathies to you mama! Thanks for linking up to #coolmumclub x

    • Sinéad Reply

      It’s really not worth it, is it, Talya! ???? I’m learning! Slowly. See you next time!

  3. My son did rugby tots for a while on Saturday mornings luckily nit too early but after 8 weeks he’d gone off it & I quite liked getting saturdat back! #coolmumclub lifeinthemumslane

    • Sinéad Reply

      I guess we all get our Saturdays back eventually, eh Emma? And when we do, we’ll be hankering after a time when they wanted us on the sidelines… #farawayhills

  4. I know! Nobody ever told me about all this before I had kids. Don’t you feel cheated?! My best friend has just become a mother at 38 and she said she is already bored of being at home all the time looking after a baby. I thought ‘wait until you’re having to dedicate your weekends to dance lessons, swimming lessons and birthday parties! hehe it’s a good job we love them so much. Great post 🙂 #coolmumclub

    • Sinéad Reply

      Oh dear! Maybe we shouldn’t tell her. Ignorance is bliss and all that! ????

  5. Someday when are Saturdays are empty, we may miss all the running around. At least that’s what I’m told. Not sure if I believe it. ; )

    • Sinéad Reply

      People keep telling me that too, Holly! Maybe there’s some truth in it! 😉

  6. You deserve at medal leaving the house at 8:45!! I’m dreading the days of Saturday clubs, thankfully a little way off.


    • Sinéad Reply

      And in rain too, Cathryn! Sainty, I am! I’m counting on having a professional soccer player in the family, or at least some kind of college scholarship for my woes!;) Hope you are enjoying your cosy Saturday mornings!

    • Sinéad Reply

      Thank God for TV, eh? We may want to hurt Pat and Jess at times but on a Saturday morning at 7am, all is forgiven. 🙂

  7. I know it is good for them… but OMG I am not looking forward to spending my weekends like this! Well done for joining in… no matter how much you didn’t plan to! #wineandboobs

Write A Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.