A nation coming together...

In June 1990 the Republic of Ireland competed in their very first World Cup finals in Italy.

The following three weeks or so were some of the best memories I've ever had, and even though I wasn't yet 13 years of age, I still, to this day, get shivers all over when I watch old clips from that tournament.

A draw against the old enemy England in our opening game, a draw against the highly fancied Dutch, and a penalty shoot out of Hollywood proportions against Romania which put us into an unprecedented quarter final against the hosts, Italy.

That was the end of the road but the beginning of something unexpectedly magical....

The celebrations, the feel good factor, and no small amount of alcohol during those few weeks all contributed in a mini baby boom in Ireland in the Spring of 1991.

So, as they say, any port in a storm, and we find ourselves living in Holland while the Dutch are flying high in this year's European Championships.

The place is starting to buzz and Friday night brings a big game against France, which the entire country will be glued to.

Which makes me wonder, if they progress to the later stages, and provide us with more nights of celebration, will we have a baby boom here in Holland come next March?

I'll try anything once, as they say, so I'm dusting off my clogs and cheese hat, and ironing all the orange clothing we own and heading into town on Friday to partake in the revelry and thunderously potent baby making that should follow.

As an experiment, I think everyone should try it, pick a team to support and fling yourselves around the bedroom with great gusto when they win. We could compare results in a few months.

While I am talking of all things Irish and baby-making related (when am I not?), I want to mention a success story, a real happy ending for Fiona & John B. this week. Congratulations guys.

It's definitely number four officer

I have a funny habit of getting a moment of wonderment-stroke-clarity where my head just spins when I stop, take everything in, and wonder to myself 'how in the name of a randy badger did I end up here?'

It usually happens when I find myself in a strange place with strange company, or when I'm doing a job far removed from what I'm supposed to, or just in any bizarre situation that crops up.

What insane chain of events in my life has come to pass and put me in this spot, in this situation, at this very moment in time.

I had my very first one of these moments in respect to 'trying to conceive', today.

As a result I stopped and thought, and came to the decision that I need to soak my brain in bleach for a week.

It wasn't the fact I know more acronyms, thanks to TTC, than an Olympic texter.

It wasn't the fact I have a far too vivid understanding of things like luteal phases, and progesterone levels, and morphology.

It wasn't the fact I talk to my own baby gravy or christen ET's eggs.

It wasn't even the fact that I could probably identify ET's funny bits in a police identity parade at this stage.

This moment of 'how in the name of Jehova did I get to this' came today when I handed my timesheet to my boss and informed him that this was "my timesheet for the 'cycle' of May"

I might as well request that I get my salary paid per menstrual cycle.

Coming all over Dr. Phil

Well Mr Fate was nice enough to give us the 4th of June, but we should have known that he had something up his sleeve for the 5th, the crafty git.

Not enough that I had to get my bloody braces tightened to the point that my hair hurts and eyeballs are bulging, but cycle 14 is finished, and failed.

No frustration, a little disappointment, a lot of sadness.

I'm glad it's over, it's been a particularly lousy one. A bloody hell. Literally.

So let me introduce you all to cycle 15, not the prettiest, but has a lovely personality.

Yet another of the 'No one told me that' moments is how it affects you as a couple.

People talk about how it brings you closer, and it does.
What they don't mention how hurtful you can be in the heat of the moment.

Spiteful, hurtful words, said, and taken, out of context.

People say I have a way with words, can you imagine the result when those words are fueled by anger, frustration, disappointment and sadness?

I can be be a hurtful bastard.

When I say things like "You either want it or you don't", the pillock that I am, I really wonder about how suitable I am for all this.

When I finally prized the baseball bat out of ET's fingers I started to think. Like, proper grown up thinking that adults do.

The thing is, I can't do this on my own in the way I want, and ET can't do this on her own in the way she wants.

We need to be on the same page, we need to know where we both stand, we need to know what we both think, we need to talk and listen and talk and listen and talk and listen some more, until our teeth fall out and our ears bleed.

Like a three legged race sometimes one person is a little behind and lacking in energy, or a little ahead determined to get on, but you both are both tied together and simply have to work together.

Ooooh, I've come over all 'Dr. Phil', (not 'come all over', you filthy minded beast)