It was like a scene from Casualty, not real life Yawning, I stood at the kitchen sink washing up with my hubby, Ryan, 43.
It was January 2017 and we’d just cooked a Sunday roast after a hectic day running around after our three kids, Oisin, 9, Ciara, 7, and Eoin, 2.
Suddenly, there was a howl from the other room.
‘I’ll go,’ I sighed.
Rushing into the living room, Eoin was lying on the carpet in tears.
‘What happened?’ I asked, scooping him up.
‘He fell off the arm of the sofa,’ Oisin shrugged.
‘There, there,’ I soothed, carrying Eoin to the kitchen.
I put him on my knee, gave him a cuddle, checking his head for lumps.
To my relief, there was nothing. He seemed fine.
After a…
