Peggy the Steggy and Kilcornan Walled Garden

The sun is shining hard on the Irish Riviera (but not in our back garden until after lunch) so when Boy asked for "painting" this morning I removed the three of us onto the front driveway with paper, paint, pegs and brushes to make a couple of Peggy the Steggy stegosaur pictures, idea stolen from www.notimeforflashcards.com.

I sketched out a very rough, very non- authentic stegosaur onto yellow card then let Boy and Girl loose with the green paint. Boy immediately began lashing paint onto the ground, stones and he even made sure the whole paint pallet was an even green. Girl focused her efforts on her tights and mouth. I returned the neighbour's Avon lady's sympathetic smile with a smug grin. Check me being arty with my kids and not even having to scrub the floors afterwards. Stick that in your Avon catalogue and sell it.

Anyway Peggy the Steggy managed to catch a few splodges of paint and Boy quite enjoyed painting the clothes pegs though he got a bit frustrated trying to clip them on the dinosaur's back. Then we stuck on googly eyes and a scrap of green paper for a mouth, cut out the dino shape and boom, the dinosaurs are roaming the earth once more.

One of Boy's favourite parts of painting is washing his hands. Honestly. So that kept him busy for a while as I persuaded a rather more reluctant, very green Girl that just a light wash of hands and face wouldn't hurt.

An hour or so later we met some friends at Kilcornan walled garden in Clarinbridge with just a few green spots remaining on our clothes. Fine. And on our arms legs faces and feet. Though I've been to Kilcornan Woods, the swimming pool and surrounding green areas, for some reason I didn't even know of the existence of this really pretty and peaceful spot.

The walled garden reminded me a bit of Brigits Garden, but it is quite a bit smaller. There are paths, plenty of grass, several swinging benches dotted around as well as a lovely quiet spot by a fenced off pond and tinkling fountain complete with carved wood decorations. The highlight for Boy was a little hut which contained, of all things, a drumkit! Complete with two simple twigs for drumsticks. In fact we spent so much time between the drums, the pond and making daisy chains that we did not get to see every corner of the garden, which I feel sure holds several more secret treasures. We will definitely be coming back. Hopefully, next time I will be able to persuade Boy to wear a more manly hat.

Ailwee Cave and Birds of Prey Centre

It was another really beautiful day today - and a proper sunny Sunday in February demands nothing less than a trip to the beautiful Burren. We recently spent a fiver's worth of Tesco clubcard vouchers on a €20 token for the Ailwee caves in north Clare and today seemed like the perfect day to use them. My favourite part of any day trip to this part of the country is - no competition - the drive from Kinvara to Ballyvaughan. On a sunny day the Burren hills to the left look almost purple, Galway Bay on the right is the kind of blue found in Mediterranean travel brochures, the houses dotted around look like Lego creations and the views are just breathtaking.

The Ailwee Cave is set on a large site with enough to occupy a family or group of any age for at least several hours. We buy a combined ticket for the Bird of Prey centre and the cave, costing us an extra €14 on top of our token. By the time we arrive it is nearly midday and we head straight to the Bird of Prey Centre where we take a walk around the owls, hawks, buzzards and other birds, who eye up Girl like a particularly rare feast they might partake in if we would only turn away for a moment (we don't). Soon it is time for the flying display and we sit on wooden benches facing a truly beautiful backdrop of Ailwee Mountain. B and I have been to Disney-type bird shows before, but this is quite different. There are only three birds shown - an owl, an eagle and a falcon. Although the birds do fly for the reward of some unspecified furry looking titbits (and I'm sure I saw some toes too), they do not perform "tricks" and the atmosphere is one of education and caring for the birds. The speakers are knowledgeable and friendly. They encourage questions and there is even an opportunity for older children (fine, and me) to have a rather friendly eagle perch on a leather-gloved arm. Both babies really enjoy the show, despite its length and lack of pizzazz and Boy spends the next hour or so asking "where's the owl?" Or he might be saying "where's Elmo?". Sometimes it is hard to tell. We leave shortly before the end of the show, as both babies are reaching the end of their patience.

There is a charming but steep woodland walk up to the cave, but we decide to take the car up so as to reach the top before closing time next Friday. We don't have long to wait for the next cave tour. The tour lasts around 30 minutes, and buggies are not allowed. A guide takes us along the first part of the loop, then lets us find our way back ourselves. The cave is interesting, but not spectacular. While there are stalagmites and stalactites, waterfalls and a few bones, there are better examples of these features in other showcaves in Ireland (e.g. Crag Cave in Co Kerry). Nevertheless, Boy really enjoys the cave. He walks most of the tour himself and stays in good humour long past his nap time. Girl falls asleep in B's arms.

Once the cave tour is finished we head back into the sunshine. Boy tries to drag us up the Ailwee mountain itself. Sadly Girl is now awake and yelling and B's arms have lost all feeling so we have to cut the walk very short. This was a pity as it was such a beautiful day and there is a lovely mountain path with truly stunning views. We leave vowing to come back and climb the mountain again when the babies are a little older. We stop at the farm shop on the way out, but despite promises of homemade fudge and award winning cheese, the shop is closed, so we head home munching some award-free, mass produced apple rice cakes instead. The Ailwee Cave is best enjoyed as a fine weather day out, and while the site has a few more attractions during summer (like a kiddies' train ride), we felt it was worth coming in the off-season to avoid the huge crowds of tourists that flock here in summer. We understand why they do, though.

A Pain in the Swings

Play parks seem such a simple, cost-free, and fun way of spending time with your children. So when I saw what a sunny morning it was I wondered why I hadn't taken the kids in so long. There is a small but very adequate playpark less than five minute's walk from home, so I set off with the double buggy to give B a couple of hours' peace and quiet.

Less than half an hour later I suddenly remembered why we hadn't been to the park in so long. We head straight for the swings as usual. Boy and Girl sit side by side in the baby swings and we indulge in the usual Ready, steady, go! and Got your feet! Got your tummy! Got your nose! Both babies are in fits of giggles, grinning at each other and generally the picture of happy families. After about 10 or 15 minutes I try and persuade Boy to try playing on the slide or the roundabout for a change. He shakes his head, so I push for another five minutes. Now Girl is getting cold. Out she comes and gets wrapped up in the buggy.

I gently extract Boy and nudge him towards the slide. He climbs the ladder, with a bit of help then stands at the top whining incoherently. In the end I have to lift him down and he runs straight back to the swings. A familiar creeping sense of foreboding has suddenly come across me. After another five minutes, my hands are numb and Girl is turning slightly blue. The sun may be shining, but let's be real here: it's Galway, and it's February.

The usual snack and chugger bribery has failed. Eventually I drag Boy kicking and screaming from the park just in time to run into a friend taking her pink and smiling baby out for a morning stroll. I try to swap buggies without her noticing but she's too smart for me. Boy is headbutting the side bars of the buggy and wailing as if I have just deprived him of the only pleasure he has ever experienced. This tantrum lasts half an hour (yes, I timed it). That's longer than we spent in the park altogether. Eventually he falls asleep, nose smooshed into the front bar of the buggy, just moments before we reach home.

It may be a while before we go to the swings again. There is plenty of other fun to be had: watch this space...